worldgrazer

Winning Wine Words - with a View

2012-01-02T20:40:00.005-05:00

It is wonderful to spend a day in the Winelands near Cape Town, South Africa. One of best parts of the day was the tasting and lunch at Noble Hill in Paarl. NOBLE HILL takes wine descriptions to a new level. In the gorgeous tasting room, you are handed one-pagers for each wine. What fun! The Cabernet Sauvignon 2007 has "hints of burnt marshmallow" and the Merlot 2008 is "A rebel with a cause...cavorting with Cabs". My favorite was the Chardonnay 2010: "Like a beautiful blonde with an astrophysics PhD...a pleasure to behold but isn't afraid to show its substance". Noble Hill marks each wine label with a different graphic of an old metal key. The key idea came from Noble Hill's current owners, when they bought the property and were handed a pile of old metal keys. Drawings of different old keys are incorporated into a graphic decal on the side window of the tasting room.

DELAIRE Restaurant at the GRAFF ESTATE takes the eye candy prize. As you drive the winding road up the hill and pass through the security gate, you enter into gorgeous gardens. But that's just the teaser for what's to come. The restaurant is perched at the top of a hill with views across a vast valley. Cocktails are offered on the wide patio, perched over the valley. It is a gorgeous spot and the food is as good as the scenery.

Circumcision Ceremony and the BMW

2012-01-02T20:07:00.002-05:00

Life is culturally rich and perplexingly interesting in the black townships of Cape Town. White foreign tourists (i.e. our family) can visit the townships and feel quite safe when escorted by a guide who lives there. Our guide Maxwell greeted us in our hotel lobby wearing a pressed black business suit, crisp white shirt and tie. He is a tall Zulu man with a deep voice. His real name is Shaka, which means warrior. First, he took us to stand in the large plaza in front of Cape Town's town hall, where Nelson Mandela had addressed packed crowds as apartheid fell. Maxwell was 20 years old then, and stood with the mobs in tears and cheers. Today, he has steady work as a free-lance tour guide but he, like most other blacks, lives in the unbelievably crowded and primitive conditions in the townships. No indoor plumbing, no heat, no insulation and leaky roofs. The government provides the land and tiny shacks for free. In the townships, people can legally practice rituals such as sacrificing animals, that they would not otherwise be permitted to do in Cape Town. The first township we visited was Langa, the oldest township - very close to downtown Cape Town. About ten minutes after driving away from the downtown area, we passed a large electric generation plant, presumably serving much of the industrial area of Cape Town. After the electric plant, the main road continues past a tree-filled grove, for about one-half mile or so before the road to turn left into the township. Maxwell pulled over and stopped the car to point to a half dozen or so light colored tents almost completely hidden by the trees. The landmark he used to orient our sights to find the tents was a shiny new BMW SUV parked just outside the grove. Smoke curls were streaming up from the encampment. He explained that the tents are occupied right now by boys undergoing their manhood ceremony. Just as the Zulus do out in their rural communities, they practice the same cultural rituals while living in the city. When boys are almost 19 years old, they must go into the woods, deprived of food and drink for a few days, and then undergo the circumcision ceremony without anesthesia. While recovering in their tents, they are brought food. That was why the snazzy BMW was parked nearby - for a food drop to care for the boys in the tents in the woods - between the electric plant and the overcrowded slum of urban shacks.

Rent-a-Knife in Cape Town

2012-01-02T19:57:00.003-05:00

A few sweaty guys tend open fires in a really hot, tiled room, flipping slabs of spicily marinated beef, pork, chicken and lamb. Mzoli's is a rare commodity--a restaurant--located in a Cape Town township. Situated in the midst of tiny shacks crowded by black inhabitants, Mzoli's sells barbecued meats to be consumed on the premises at picnic tables outside. You choose your raw meats from the butcher's display case and then take them to a counter to arrange for them to be barbecued. While waiting for the meat to cook, Gordon and I saved seats at a picnic table under the tented open air cover. Our Zulu guide Maxwell took Larry and Max back out into the street to get drinks. They went into a lady's shack across the street to buy beers. She offered a six pack for sale, but Max pointed out that it was actually a five-and-a-half pack. When the meat was finished cooking, it was piled onto a platter and handed over. Our guide Maxwell advised that if you prefer not to use African utensils (i.e. your hands), you need to buy plates (paper), cutlery (thin white plastic) and napkins (paper). Also, since the slabs of meat are large, you really could use a real knife. No problem. Rent a steak knife for ten rand (about $1.20) deposit, to be refunded when you return the knife. It was delicious food and perfectly cooked. We also bought the side of pap, a ground maize that looks like mashed potatoes, but whiter. After we finished eating, our guide Maxwell asked if I wanted to meet the owner of the restaurant. Sure...why not? I followed Maxwell back into the butcher shop storefront area, where the owner was busy taking payments. Maxwell suggested I pose with the owner so Maxwell could take a picture with my camera. No problem. Smiles. Click. I held out the steak knife and asked for the deposit refund. He took back the knife, smiled and suggested ten rand for the photo. Fair deal!

Red Cappucino

2012-01-02T19:49:00.003-05:00

South Africa's most common tea drink is red tea. It is really red and it is naturally decaffeinated. A coffee place called Mugg & Bean serves it like a cappuccino, with foamed milk and honey, topped with cinnamon powder. The drink is called Rooibos, pronounced "Roy Boss". It's delicious. This was at the Mugg & Bean store in Franschhoek in the Winelands.

My Two Cents About Money and Zimbabwe

2012-01-02T19:41:00.005-05:00

Zimbabwe has suffered from crippling inflation. Paper money became virtually worthless, so the government printed new bills in higher and higher denominations, in amounts that were staggeringly, and in fact, unbelievably high -- notes in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, then millions, then billions.
Eventually, the country has righted its problem. As a practical matter, the people of Zimbabwe use U.S. Dollars or South African Rand. First choice is dollars. Strangely, the smallest U.S. dollar bill available is the $2 dollar bill - in abundance. Ones are a rare.
Now that Zimbabwe has stabilized a bit by conducting transactions in dollars or rand, the people are beginning to rebuild their lives. It was tragic to hear stories of life savings, in fact means of survival being wiped out as inflation soared. Things got to the point where it became unaffordable to buy meager provisions to eat. For some time, the government issued special currency called agricultural notes which looked like regular paper money except they included both an issue date and an expiration date a few months later. For example. a 5 million dollar note would buy a loaf of bread for a brief period. Shopkeepers now offer to sell those old notes as souvenirs (if you ask). I bought a $5 billion dollar agricultural note (and paid with a US $2 Dollar bill).

Victoria Falls: The Zen of Zim

2011-12-27T17:18:00.004-05:00

Victoria Falls perpetually appears on all those short lists of the world's natural wonders. The water from the Zambezi River tumbles down a stunningly steep cliff that forms the border between Zimbabwe and Zambia. After making the decision to visit the falls, one must decide whether to stay on the Zimbabwe side or the Zambia side. Fodor's guidebook refers to this decision as "To Zim or to Zam?" We chose To Zim because the ferocious curtain of water faces the Zimbabwe shore, treating those on Zimbabwe's side to the dramatic display of mist and double rainbows on Devil's Cataract, the most spectacular section. It seems like you are walking through the rainbows as you stroll the paths of the national park lining the falls' edge.
The other option of staying in Zambia was very tempting, as most of the adventure outfitters operate on the Zambia side at the top of the falls, like swimming in Devil's Pool - a natural pond perched at the edge of the killer steep drop, or bungee jumping off the Victoria Falls Bridge. Also, Zambia offers several lovely chic lodges along the river, as well as a much more stable political climate than Zimbabwe. In fact, the country of Zimbabwe is somewhat dangerous to visit, unless you confine your visit to the tourist Town of Victoria Falls - which we did. Upon arriving at immigration, we were warned that it is illegal to photograph military people or government buildings - or, it gets worse- to wear; or even to possess camouflage clothing - punishable by imprisonment. We intended to spend less than 24 hours on our little jaunt to see this natural wonder of the world. And so, we opted to visit Zimbabwe. We stayed in the Victoria Falls Hotel, a grand old colonial dame built by the British The hotel, its expansive lawns and terraced patio are squarely situated facing the falls and majestic bridge. The entrance to the national park is less than ten minutes' walk from the hotel. When taking tea on the terrace in the afternoon, the view is surreal. The mist rising from the falls is known as "the smoke that thunders" and can be seen from 40 miles away. For a quick hop to view the majesty of Victoria Falls, our choice to visit via Zimbabwe was fantaztic. The Zen of Zim.

Tidbits from Turkey

2011-10-11T21:55:00.010-04:00

Bodrum (St. Tropez? Newport?)

Torba in the Morning

Casa Dell'Arte in Torba, near Bodrum

Bodrum Peninsula

Serene Sirince Village

Inside a 4th Century Hidden Chapel, Carved into a Rock in the Red Valley in Cappadocia

Cone-Shaped Rocks in Cappadocia

Sun-Dapples

Floating over Cappadoccia

Sunrise over Anatolia

Balloon Traffic

Fired

Sacred House Boutique Cave Hotel in Urgup

Fairy Chimneys

Girlfriends Stroll in the Pigeon Valley

Prayer at Suleymaniye Mosque, Istanbul

Pictures from Peru

2011-10-11T21:46:00.006-04:00

Fishing Nets on Lake Titicaca

View of Macchu Pichu from Sun Gate Trail

Afternoon at Macchu Pichu

Children in Willoc village in the Sacred Valley, jockeying for treats

Naha: Please Stand Clear of the Closing Doors

2010-10-31T23:44:00.004-04:00

The only train on the island of Okinawa is a monorail. It is located in the city of Naha. With population of about 300,000, Naha is Okinawa's largest city.

I loved the automated fare machine. Like buying a ticked on the Tokyo subway system, you look for your destination and its fare on the map posted on the wall above the fare machine. Simple enough. But, the coin jammed in the fare box while Gordon was trying to buy our monorail tickets. While Gordon was momentarily staring at the fare box to try to figure out how to get our change back, a man's head and arm emerged from between two fare boxes. The man reached around, jiggled the machine and delivered the tickets.

Also like the Tokyo subways, the monorail stations have uniformed attendants wearing white gloves, to "guide" passengers onto the train cars.

And my favorite part was the little stickers on the train doors inside the cars, with graphic pictures of crabs with pinched claws, to keep your hands away from the closing doors.

Talking Trash in Tokyo

2010-10-31T23:00:00.004-04:00

Taking out the trash in Tokyo is a complicated affair. The trash room in Gordon's apartment building has twelve different categories of trash. Not only is the recycling separated into multiple categories, but the rules go so far as to require that the plastic recyclable bottles must also be separated from their caps. The trash bins are numbered. Different categories of trash are collected on different days. Instructions on how to sort and dispose of trash are illustrated, color-coded, published, and posted on the trash room wall. And, the trash room is spotless.

Okinawa Peace Park has 1000 Cranes and Underground Caves

2010-10-31T22:01:00.008-04:00

The Peace Park at the southernmost tip of Okinawa island is a lovely seaside park, but a grim reminder of World War II. The memorial museum is perched on a spectacular spit of land overlooking the South China Sea. A low-walled stone monument bearing American names carved into its sides, snakes through a shaded park, evoking a very strong similarity to the Vietnam memorial in Washington, DC.

A short stroll away is a beautiful sculpture garden with different monuments, each representing a prefecture of Japan. One monument looks like a soaring torch, cradling a globe in its center. Another shelters 1,000 colorful origami paper cranes. The cranes follow an ancient Japanese legend that promises that anyone who folds 1,000 cranes will be granted a wish. Cranes are revered by Japanese as special creatures who are said to live for 1,000 years. School children folded the cranes for the memorial.

If you ask, the entrances to the underground caves will be pointed out. Although the entrances are covered with bars now, it is possible to visit some of the spots where the Okinawan natives hid and lived for months while the Japanese and then the Americans invaded their island home. The Okinawans lived in underground caves for months, fearing violent death from the soldiers who battled on their island. As portions of the island were conquered, Okinawans fled thier homes, migrated and congregated in the south, eventually retreating to live in the hills. They were led to believe that if they were discovered or captured by Japanese, or later by Americans, they would be tortured and killed. As the armies approached, many preferred to control their own destiny by running to the ocean-edge cliffs and killing themselves by jumping into the sea. Over 200,000 Okinawans died in the World War II battles on their island.

A beautiful simple room in the Peace Memorial Museum has Testimonies from survivors on display to read. Some of the transcripts are translated into English. The stories are gory, heartbreaking and riveting.

Scary Venomous Life in Okinawa

2010-10-31T19:52:00.020-04:00

A visit to Okinawa will provide cautious (as well as neurotic) travelers good reason to be nervous about nature's threats. We stayed at Moon Beach Palace, a safe-enough looking place with a lovely beach resort on the South China Sea, with soft sand, chaise lounges separated by beach umbrellas, and a waterfront fully stocked with kayaks, jet skis and big boats for skippered outings.

The swimming area is outlined by rope punctuated by blue foam floats. The scariness evolves when you approach the water's edge and read the signs. Fortunately, the signs are in both Japanese and English so that English-speaking tourists can take in the gravity of the warnings. The Notice starts predictably enough, with routine reminders like: Children Must be Accompanied by an Adult, Do Not Swim When the Flag is Red, and No Pets. Then, it was endearing to read the awkwardly translated manners-controller, "Prohibit Any Conducts That May Embarrass Others". But finally, the safety warning was simply, "Swim Only in the Authorized Areas". Upon closer inspection, what had appeared to be an ordinary roped-in area was actually a protective net. The rope on the water's surface was actually the top of an enclosure-like cage formed from soft netting, anchored around the perimeter of the safe-swim area.

The reason for the protective cage became evident when we read the next sign, "Venomous Marine Life in Okinawa". There were detailed instructions what to do when bitten or attacked by various nefarious sea creatures. The instructions were hilarious -- unless, of course, you actually needed to heed them. Photos of the offending creatures accompanied the first-aid steps. For an injury by one creature, you must use vinegar. For a different one, no matter what you do, don't use vinegar. Seek medical attention at once. Use cold water and ice. Whatever you do, don't use ice; use heat. (Right!) My takeaway was to seek medical attention for everything, disregarding all of the detailed directions, since you probably wouldn't know how to match what bit you with the pictures of what to do about it.

We decided to get away from the potential terrors of the beach. (Not really -- we had our fill of swimming and were ready to go out touring). We visited the cultural center at Ryuku Mura, where we encountered the deadly habu snake. The habu is a venomous pit viper snake unique to the Ryuku archipelago, of which Okinawa is the largest island. To visit the habu snake theater, we had to pay an upcharge beyond the general admission fee to the cultural center. As we entered the theater, we passed by photographs on the wall showed disgusting injuries from habu bites, which are often fatal. A demonstrator pulled a habu out of a box, placed it on a stick, and waved it across the front row, where I was sitting. A little too close for my comfort. But I did snap a picture. The habu show ended with a silly 3D video of a habu encountering and succumbing to its natural enemy - the mongoose, which was imported from India about 100 years ago. The video was anamatronics of the hokiest kind, where the mongoose and the snake joust and parry in jerky motion until the mongoose strikes and crushes the snake. Upon leaving the theater, we passed by a sign of apology. "Notice: Habu and Mongoose fight show has been forbade by the law of animal protecting. Now, we introduce and present the show on 3D screen with explanation in Japanese. Thank you very much for your understanding". It was OK with me not to see that gory fight in real life.

Jokan Ji - Honoring Death by Fire

2010-10-15T06:07:00.010-04:00

In the northern part of Tokyo, near Ueno (say "Way No") is a small Buddhist temple called Jokan Ji. It is hard to find, tucked on a side street. The temple's building is surrounded by scaffolding and is undergoing renovation. We took a peek into the temple office and saw a robed monk painting calligraphy with a paintbrush, surrounded by piles of papers and books in a musty cluttered room. The main attraction at the temple is the cemetery and its history. Around the time of the 1650s, Tokyo was known as Edo. The area surrounding the temple was overcrowded with brothels made of straw and paper. Buried in the cemetery are people who died in the frequent fires, one wave of which killed a reported 100,000 people. The temple cemetery also memorializes the courtesans who were tossed over the temple wall, rolled in straw mats after outliving their usefulness, whether they were dead or alive. (The "or alive" part of the story was published in Lonely Planet Guide for Tokyo, but I didn't see that part of the story mentioned in anything else I read). A black cat posed on top of one of the memorials just as I snapped a picture.

Behind the Barbed Wire at Kadena Air Force Base on Okinawa

2010-10-15T05:27:00.007-04:00

We toured the US Air Force Base at Kadena, as the guests of a gracious host who is stationed on the base. We were grateful for the opportunity to see what's behind that miles-long barbed wire covered fence that cordons off a chunk of the island of Okinawa. The base is "closed", which meant for us that civilians can enter only if signed in by someone stationed on the base. We made arrangements to meet our host at 11:00 for him to drive us around on a tour, and ending up meeting his family for lunch at the Tea House. Mistakenly, I thought he said the Tea House. He actually said the "Tee" House, which is the restaurant perched at the top of a steep hill with a magnificent view of the driving range, golf course and ocean. And, the view also takes in the landing strip where pilots were circling around repeatedly landing and taking off, to achieve the required number of landings and take-offs to maintain their proficiency.

We thought the base was huge. Apparently not by military standards; but we had little to compare it to. The houses look like a suburban subdivision that goes on for miles and miles; and could be a TV set or a dated version of The Truman Show. We drove by just one of the three full-blown elementary schools.

The base appears to be completely self sufficient to support the people who live there, with barbershops, veterinary hospital, car repair shop and so on.

The "BX" as the shopping mall is called, could outclass most shopping centers. "BX" stands for Base Exchange - the corollary of PX, or Post Exchange at an Army Post. The thing is absolutely huge, with a food court filled with Taco Bell, Burger King, Popeye's and so on. The stores look like a giant Walmart - brightly lit, wide, tidy aisles of endless types of merchandise from Yankee Candles to Coach handbags. They even sell cars and Harley Davidsons.

Okinawa's military base provides support for operations halfway around the world from much of the USA. It was an important facility for the Vietnam war. The US government took it from the Japanese at the end of World War II, when it had served as a Japanese military base. There are hangers still remaining that were built into the sides of hills, where the Kamikaze pilots took off for their missions at the end of World War II.

Local farmers are allowed onto the base to cultivate plants on some of the unused plots of land. Kind of like community gardens??

Shisa Always Come in Pairs

2010-10-15T04:59:00.019-04:00

All over Okinawa we saw statues of dogs that are kind of square looking with curly fur. They often flank the doorways of homes and businesses, and sometimes are even seen perched on rooftops. They are called Shisas and they are typical to Okinawa. Shisa come from Okinawan mythology and are a cross between a dog and a lion. They look like the Chinese guardian lions, but appear friendlier. We learned that the one on the right always has his mouth open and the one on the left has his mouth closed. There are differing explanations. The mouth-open sound is like the first letter of the Japanese alphabet which sounded to my very untrained ear like "aaahhh" and the last letter sounded to the same unsophisticated ear like "mmmm". The open-mouthed shisa takes it all in, evil spirits and all. The closed-mouth shisa shuts it out. Another explanation (which is somewhat contradictory) is that the open-mouthed shisa scares away the bad and the closed-mouth shisa keeps in the good.

The Unusual Foods and Longevity of Okinawa

2010-10-14T08:26:00.010-04:00

On the island of Okinawa, Japan, people eat big gooey purple sweet potatoes called BENI-IMO. They are made into candy and ice cream; they are sliced thin, salted and fried (think Terra Chips); and they are modeled into 4 foot high plastic replicas that stand outside shops on the streets of Naha. Beni-Imo supposedly is exceptionally nutritious, with very high beta carotene and 150% of the antioxidants of blueberries. For a relatively small island of Japan, Okinawa makes a big splash with its distinct foods.

There is a delicious little citrus fruit called SHIKUWASA, also native to Okinawa. It looks like a small lime, but its meat is orange and it is delicious - kind of like a mandarin orange. It's also sold in vending machines as a canned juice.

At Teppan Yaki restaurants (think Benihana Japanese steak house style), there are two kinds of meats unique to Okinawa. AGU is the local pig and ISHIGAKIGYU is the local beef which is very marbled (i.e. fatty) and extremely delicious.

OKINAWAN SEA GRAPES are gorgeous and tasty. They are a type of seaweed that are light green in color and glisten like little crystals. We had them served to us on the side of a sushi dish. The sea grapes are little plants in the form of balls clinging to a stem, spaced evenly along the length. When you bite into a branch, the little balls burst and squirt salty water into your mouth. I heard sea grapes described as vegetarian caviar. Perfect description.

TACO RICE is just funny. Some restaurants catering to Americans seem to make stuff up. Like most restaurants, the ones serving American dishes post photos of the dishes with name labels so you can see what you would get if you ordered a particular item. The first time I noticed taco rice on a menu, I saw a photo of a circle of white rice topped with some ground meat in the center, and some green chopped garnish. The taco rice offerings at some restaurants ballooned to the point where they warranted a whole section of the menu, vying for the same status as a food group along with meat and fish. Taco rice dishes even included "Abocado Taco Rice" - misspelling and all.

You either love or hate GOYA. It looks like an overgrown cucumber with pimples. It is a very bitter gourd with claims of great properties for health. It is claimed to have three times more vitamin C than lemons, to reduce blood sugar levels and that it lowers high blood pressure. I liked it only when it was sliced paper thin in small pieces. Otherwise, in big clumps, it's gross.

I am not the only one who wonders whether the foods on Okinawa have any relation to the fact that Okinawa has more centenarians per capita than anywhere else in the world. I googled longevity and Okinawa and found that the island of Okinawa is the best place on earth for healthy aging. The Okinawans have:

* more people over 100 years old per 100,000 population than anywhere else in the world
* the lowest death rates from cancer, heart disease and stroke (the top three killers in the US)
* the highest life expectancy for both males and females over 65
* females in Okinawa have the highest life expectancy in all age groups.

They must be eating something right.

Soap, Water and Dry all in one sink in Don Quijote

2010-10-14T05:42:00.007-04:00

There are some really cool things in Japan. For instance, take the sink in the ladies room of a department store I visited today. Instead of just having a spigot and hot and cold water handles at the back of the basin, there is a hood-like shelf that hangs over the basin. It has three simple buttons. You can choose: Soap, Water, and Dryer. How clever! You just slowly slide your dirty hands under the shelf, from left to right and your hands come out the other side clean and dry. …and I wasn’t in just any department store. It was a crazy, crowded, jammed to the ceiling with everything you could imagine kind of place. The store is called Don Quijote and it’s a six floor discount emporium in the upscale Roppongi district of Tokyo. Picture Ocean State Job Lot or one of the discount electronics stores on Times Square and intensify it by a lot. Hot pink hand printed signs hang askew from the ceiling. Music blares throughout the store, playing different tunes that clash and compete as you move about. They sell stupid little Halloween pumpkin hats for dogs to wear, as well as Baccarat crystal. In the food department, you can get Spam and Ritz crackers (both very popular in Japan), as well as real Canadian maple syrup, locally grown melons and a million kinds of dried seaweed snacks. There is a luggage and bathing suit department (yep, the bathing suits are strung on a rope above the suitcases). You can buy washing machines, bicycles, a “Human Relations Calculator” (which looked to me like a regular calculator), and bras. Alex and I spent an hour in there, drawn to the craziness. He bought a tee-shirt with a nonsensical Engrish slogan that says “Souther Extra Enjoy Motorcycle”.

Tugging War in Naha, Japan with US Marines

2010-10-14T04:07:00.010-04:00

Good thing we wore sneakers. Alex, Gordon and I pushed and tugged and got squooshed along with about 25,000 other people as we competed on Sunday, October 10, 2010 in the one of the world’s largest tugs of war in Naha, Japan. Naha is the capitol city of Okinawa, the largest island in the Ryukyu archipelago, which is in the southernmost area of the country of Japan. In fact, Okinawa is so far from Tokyo that it is closer to Taiwan.

The tug of war is an annual event. Apparently, it was the Guinness record-holding tug of war until this year, when a Chinese contest took the crown. Well, it certainly was the largest tug of war I have ever seen; and it is the only one I have ever been to on an island in the East China Sea. The city of Naha, about 300,000 in population, prepares for the tug of war by laying a large twisted cable down the center median of its main thoroughfare. As we arrived in Naha by car, driving down the main street, we couldn't help but notice the cable bisecting the road, looking much like a very large sewer pipe waiting to be laid. It stood about four feet high in diameter, with braided rope wrapped in a spiral around it. The middle section of the rope was disconnected by the width of the principal cross street, to allow traffic to pass until just before the start of the tug of war. The two ends of the rope came just up to the sides of the four-way intersection. One end of the rope was twisted into a hook and the other was twisted into an eye formation. Before the contest could start and after the traffic was cleared from the roads, the crowd of tuggers was directed by the festival officials to push the two segments together into position, which connected the rope.

Shortly before the start, the police closed off the road to busses and cars. By the time the 3:00 PM scheduled start time approached, the sidewalks and street had become swollen with people, moving toward the rope. The competition is open to anyone who wants to participate. Onlookers positioned themselves in the windows of upper floors of office buildings lining the street. We found a spot very close to the center of the rope, just beyond the four-way intersection where the two pieces would be joined together.

Right after the police cleared the streets of auto and bus traffic, the streets filled with eager people. We wriggled our way through the crowd to get close to the rope, and all three of us managed to get a grip on it. Contest official men were dressed in black pajamas with white piping and looking very serious, standing on top of the rope, spaced about every ten feet. I was standing right under one of those guys. He never smiled.

There was an air of excitement and anticipation as we waited for the contest to start. It didn’t start for about another hour because first, there was a parade. So, we stood, pressed against the rope by a large crowd of people eager to begin tugging and warring. The parade featured about twelve very tall poles. The crown of each pole was decorated differently and festively; all with long banners streaming. We were told that each pole represented a different district. I’m not sure about that – it sounded too much like the explanation got confused with Palio in Siena, Italy. Anyway, the poles were probably taller than utility poles and just as wide. Each of the poles was led down the street by a group of men, also wearing pajamas, balancing them to try to keep them upright as the parade moved forward. The image was dramatic – with the tall poles advancing through the crowd; noisy horns and drums throbbing as the pole-holders wove their way forward. Their balancing acts were made harder because the crowd kept filling in the voids in the parade, giving little leeway to the pole-balancers’ needs to step back to correct the angle of a leaning piece of lumber bigger than a traffic light pole. I will admit that I did find it scary to see a swaying telephone pole come tilting my way; with no escape from the throng of people.

Some Okinawans and Japanese were sprinkled throughout the crowd where we were located. But, the majority of people participating were American military; both men and women. Many of the guys in the crowd surrounding us were holding beers or cups that used to have beers, or bottles of alcohol as an alternative to beers. Those guys were the loudest and rowdiest. However, the longer I stood there, the more I began to take in the quieter people in the crowd. There were two military women standing near to me, who I found interesting to talk with about their tours of duty on Okinawa. One was very enthusiastic about all the festivals and all there is to do on the island. I did notice that she was wearing sandals and I wondered about her feet getting stepped on once the pushing and tugging got started. I stood next to a crew-cutted 40-something year old Marine who handles logistics. As the delayed start moved into its second hour, he said he wished he had taken advantage of the opportunity to use the bathroom before getting up to the rope, because he really had to go, but couldn't get out now. Even he saw the amusing irony of poor potty planning by a logistics guy.

A whistle sounded and the officials gave a signal ordering us to push the rope forward, so that the ropes’ two ends could be connected. The officials uncoiled nests of guide ropes which had been piled on top of the main cable, and spread those smaller lines out into the crowd, as tentacles, extending the reach. Instead of pulling back, like one does in a tug of war, we pushed forward, to get the two big ends to meet in the center of the intersection, to form a single rope. The heaving and hoe-ing was intense. I felt my ribcage getting a bit squashed and did not like that one bit. At that point, my personal strategy became one of holding my arms up at waist level, creating a bit of a cage with my elbows. I hoped that the two ropes got connected quickly, preferably before I got crushed and unable to breathe. I wanted to quickly escape from my not-so-prime-anymore spot next to the rope before the real tugging began. As soon as the crowds succeeded in moving the ropes forward into position to connect, I squirmed out of the throng and onto the sidewalk. Right on my heels were the military girl wearing sandals, and Alex. Gordon stayed on for the duration.

After the hook and eye were connected, a giant wooden pin was inserted to secure them together. Lots of pajama-wearing officials swarmed over, under and through the connection to guide the big wooden pin into place. There was a final ceremony before the contest began. Two costumed ancient warriors strode the length of the rope – each began at opposite ends and met in the middle at the intersection. They acted out a sword fight at the center of the rope.

High above the warriors’ heads, at the center of the rope, about ten stories in the air, a gold-colored ball was suspended over the intersection. It hung from a line, much like the ball that gets dropped on Times Square on New Year’s Eve in New York. The moment the warriors finished, the ball was burst open. It spewed balloons and streamers, signaling the start of the tug of war. For about eight minutes, there was a lot of heaving, ho-ing, screaming, drums, whistles and other ear-ringing noises. The competition ended in a tie.

Everybody wins. Tradition is to take home a piece of the rope for good luck. We secured a big long piece and set off in our sneaker-clad feet for the trek to the monorail station. All along the way, we walked with throngs of happy celebrators with ropes looped around their necks and waists. I was quite happy leaving with pictures taken from the sidewalk instead of blisters from rope burns.

What it Feels Like

2010-05-06T10:26:00.001-04:00

I'll end the 2010 Global Scavenger Hunt Blog with two photos. Sigiriya Mountain in Sri Lanka - before and after we climbed.

Back to Reality

2010-05-06T10:16:00.005-04:00

I am back home now, having circled the globe in 3 weeks - climbing mountains, exploring caves, eating crickets, finding obscure unmarked historical sites, comparing beer flavors before 10 AM, traveling in crowded filthy second class trains, using restrooms that make you gag before you even see them, let alone use them...and I am thrilled to have had the opportunities. I met fabulous people along the way - like Moussa the taxi driver in Amman, Cristina the university student in Bratislava who helped us find the required five places in the 45 minutes we had in her country, and Farzath the warm Sri Lankan who welcomed us into his home for dinner. My partner Christine was a great competitor and a great sport. We came into the competition sharing a love of adventure and international travel, but not knowing each other particularly well. We ended with great respect for each other and the satisfaction of accomplishing 21 straight days of hard planning, running, doing, talking our way into private clubs, government buildings, closed museums, "impossible" situations, and recording it all - and the joy of learning and discovering! Right about now, I would love to have the chance to have my feet cleaned again in the Thai Fish Spa, and to have my body stretched again by the Thai masseuse, who made me feel like I was as tall as Travis (a little delusional on my part). But, the travels are done and it's time to go back to reality.

Kunafa - a Reason to Live

2010-05-02T09:19:00.000-04:00

This sweet dessert in Jordan is a delicious hot melted cheese, with crisp caramel on top. It was the best thing I ate in the three weeks around the world.

Snakes are Not Charming

2010-05-02T09:10:00.000-04:00

Finished with Third Place Medals

2010-05-02T09:03:00.001-04:00

Finished in New York

2010-05-02T08:45:00.002-04:00

The Global Scavenger Hunt competition ended in New York City yesterday. In the final results, our team came in third place. We won first place for the legs in Jordan and in Vietnam. We worked hard and are pleased with the results. We did best where we had great guidebooks and maps - Lonely Planets were particularly good. Indeed, it is enticing to go around the world with good guidebooks, good maps, and good friends.

Clear Air in Iceland - What volcano?

2010-05-01T07:13:00.001-04:00

Our flight from Paris to New York was via Iceland to change planes Clear skies, efficient airport. You would never know that anything had gone wrong. And, from the air, the ground looked pretty regular brown to me. I did not notice black ash.

Munich, Strasbourg, Paris – All in A Day’s Time

2010-05-01T06:31:00.000-04:00

A lot of riding the rails today. We plan to cross a big chunk of Europe to get to Paris by tonight. First, a four hour train ride from Munich to Strasbourg. Although the TGV goes direct to Paris, we decided to stop off the train in Strasbourg for four hours of scavenges. I had been in Strasbourg before, but my visit was nothing like this. We had four hours to scavenge around. One of the highlights was to “visit the European Parliament – and get in”. The Parliament building is imposing, with an armed gate. We had gone by taxi and had the driver tell the guard that we just wanted to take a quick photo. As we approached the façade for a closer view, a group of students on a field trip were passing into the entrance. We joined the crowd and got led into the inner courtyard, and on into an anteroom where a host greeted the group and addressed them as they began the process of passing their bags through the electronic security gates. At that point, we turned back and left.
Our 6:00 PM train got us to Paris by 9:00 PM. There were a few evening scavenges we could and did do after we dropped off our suitcases at the hotel. We found Aux Trois Mailletz, the “jazz” club in St. Michel area, where the musicians played classical music and the vocalist sang opera. Next, we did the still-really-overpriced and still-really-disappointing Moulin Rouge. We went to the 11:00 PM show. The large nightclub’s hall was almost full. I am mystified as to how they manage to lure enough people to fill the house to see that thing three times every night. The dancing looked like a Rockette-type show, with the dancing girls dressed in elaborate costumes, some with poles holding up headdresses, wings, and curtains of swinging chains of beads. They changed costumes every scene. As the show progressed, the costumes morphed from gauzy veils and suggestive peeks at the dancers’ bodies, to bare chests and thongs. The choreography was lame. Mostly, it consisted of wiggling their hips and thrusting their chests forward. There was a loose theme of exotic Asia. Having just come from exotic Asia, the costumes and scenery looked hokey. Interspersed between the nudie scenes was a series where a man and some feathered puppets shrieked stupid jokes in three languages in a slapstick routine. This was woven throughout the show, presumably to fill the time while the dancing girls were backstage, getting progressively undressed. A third act was also woven through the show in several scenes. It was a magician who was actually outstanding. He pulled multiple doves and finally, a duck, out of scarves and even out of thin air. He was great. Time for bed.

Probing into Paris
We scoured Paris over the course of our sixteen-hour day. Our hotel is in Montparnasse, which is on the southwest edge of Paris. One of the scavenges was to find three graves in the Montparnasse cemetery. Two were easy because they are in the guidebooks and on the cemetery’s maps: Jean Paul Sartre and Serge Gainsbourg. The harder one was to find Susan Sontag’s grave. The cemetery custodian had to look up her location for us and then try to explain where it was located in the crowded and not well labeled cemetery. We found her grave – a simple one.
We then headed out to Versailles. Fortunately, Paris’s museums now offer a combination pass for 30 Euros for the day. We were able to buy the pass at Versailles. Otherwise, it would have been a sickening waste of money to zip in and out of museums for a quick look at a specific thing, and then on to the next. Next was the Louvre. We had to find four things. One of them was kind of tricky – not sure we got it right. The task was to find what famous lady resides in Apollo Gallery. The exhibits in the Apollo Gallery are glass cases containing royal jewels and tableware. The palace walls and ceilings are choked with decorative insets and paintings. Almost all of the subjects are men – except for a painting in the ceiling, of Diana on her doe-led chariot. I am curious whether that was right.
After the Louvre, we visited the stained glass windows in Sainte Chappelle. By then, we were very ready for the mandatory food scavenge of getting ice cream at the upscale Bertillon on Ile St. Louis. We had to try either the Peche de Vigne (red peach – which we did – and it was deliciously refreshing) or the Caramel Beurre Sale (which we had later that night, and it was a fab combination of caramel and salt – kind of like chocolate covered pretzels). There were a bunch more little scavenges to do. We took the elevator to the top of the Georges Pompidou Center and photographed the “Rites of Spring” Fountain from the top, which we had to figure out was really the Stravinsky fountain. He was the composer of the Rites of Spring. We found the “sister” statue of the statue of Liberty at the Place de la Republique. She is holding a torch, like the one in New York. We located the oldest covered market in Paris off Rue Charlot, buried in a neighborhood where people in the neighborhood seem not to know about it. We took an elevator to the 59th floor of the highest skyscraper in Paris (around the corner from our hotel).
We visited a fabulous new museum called Musee du Quai Branley, to locate some artifacts from Laos and Vietnam. The museum celebrates handcrafts of native people all over the world. There are scores of handmade textiles, masks, sculptures, etc. What is wonderful about it is that the core theme is ethnic people and the beauty of their creations and their lives. The building is quite exciting architecturally. The Eiffel Tower’s top is viewed around most corners. But the museum is chunky modules of browns and earthy colors in a park of reeds and tall grasses, with a jungle feel. One enters down a winding path, where the location of the front door is not at all obvious as you enter from the street. Like many times on this scavenger hunt, I regretted having to race out to get on to the next thing.
We found the Zouave de Pont d’Alma (an Arabic Warrior statue at the bottom of the bridge), and strolled a bit on Avenue Montaigne to see the designer clothing stores and elegant Parisians and elegant (not us!) visitors. We found the works we needed to find in Musee D’Orsay (except that Whistler’s mother is visiting San Francisco right now, so she wasn’t hanging on the wall at her usual home). We boarded the Vogueo boat at Gare d’Austerlitz. It is a commuter ferry that travels east of Paris. We were supposed to take it to the end, which we did. Since the day was winding down and the boat ride was so pleasant, we rode a round trip and enjoyed nearly one hour on the river with our feet up. On the way back to pick up more commuters in Paris, the boat was almost empty. We took the opportunity to chat with Aimad, the boat guy (the one who does everything except drive the boat). Friendly guy – and he was willing to make the silly video with me of teaching me a dance step. After the boat, we found the place called Batofar, a boat-restaurant tied up alongside the Seine. It’s a bar, restaurant and music club. We had a refreshing drink and refreshing bathroom (there were neither on the commuter boat). Next was the challenge to find the Arenes de Lutece, a very well hidden Roman vestige in Paris. It is a Roman forum/theater in the middle of a park in the middle of a residential neighborhood. After twirling around the area a few times, we finally found the entrance gate, just as a guard approached with a set of keys to lock it for the night. We slipped in for a quick look and photo. There is a dirt ring in the center and seats ringing the perimeter. It is in the midst of a small urban park, hidden inside the trees. Great neighborhood place.
Next was Montmartre. We did the silly tourist task of having an artist paint a portrait or cut out a silhouette of our team. We chose the silhouette. Actually, it was amazing. In less than ten minutes, the artist cut out paper in the shapes of our profiles. Great souvenir. The café life around Place du Tertre on Montmarte is like a caricature of Paris. Men really do stand around and play Jacques Brel-type tunes on the accordion. The last thing before leaving Place du Tertre was to find “one of the oddest sculptures you could ever hope to find”. We found it. Emerging out of a stone wall are pieces of part of a man. His head, hand and leg are sticking through the stone as though he is walking through the stone wall. Pretty cool.
We were just about done for the night. We went down the hill from Montmartre and found a wonderful restaurant in the St. Michel area to have some escargots. The white asparagus are in season and were served in a delicious vinaigrette. AND, the restaurant served the Caramel Beurre Sale ice cream. Yum Yum Yum. After a chat with some international students (a scavenge), we retreated to the hotel for bed. And that was the end of Europe.
Next stop: New York.

Musicians in Vienna; Beautiful Bratislava; Lots of Architecture and Beer in Munich

2010-05-01T06:29:00.000-04:00

We have 4 days to do up to 100 scavenges, and to get ourselves from Vienna to Paris, while scavenging along the way. There are scavenges possible in cities across Germany, France, Switzerland and into Eastern Europe. It was daunting, and headache/stomach ache producing to look at the huge array of possibilities, to figure out how best to get to Paris given the possibilities. Our first instinct was to disregard any options that were east of Vienna, as if anybody would go east when we need to be going west. We ended up heading east – but more on that in a moment.
Europe’s leg started on Monday evening around 5:00 PM. First stop was the English bookstore to buy the Lonely Planet for Western Europe. We chose it because it has some good overviews of most of the possible cities. A few drawbacks, though. It is about 7 inches thick and feels like it weighs 17 pounds. I can’t wait to ditch it.
For the first evening in Vienna, we started out just as everything that has a closing time – was closing. Of the few things that were not closed for the night, we were able to do the mandatory food scavenges (of course). We had coffees at Café Hawleka and we bought Manner Schnitzen (a wafer cookie that is sold in a very upscale store. We got to the House of Music before it closed, just in time to see Johann Strauss’s exhibit, which we needed as one of two commemorations we had to find. Since the museum was closing shortly and the ticket seller was really nice, she let us in for free, to run upstairs and look at the Johann Strauss exhibit. Johann also is commemorated by a sculpture in the park across the street from our hotel.
We sought something to eat at a restaurant called Huth, around the corner from the hotel. While there, we did a wine taste test, took pictures of knockoff products (a Breitling watch and a Mont Blanc pen), and we sat next to a couple from Rhode Island. Woonsocket and Cranston. They asked us to snap a photo of them at their table, which led to a “Where are you from?” conversation. Small world for a small state.
After dinner, we tried to make a plan, at least for the next morning. But we were too tired. I woke up in the middle of the night, with my mind racing around possible solutions. To not disturb Christine by turning on a light, I went into the bathroom , sat on the floor, spread out the books, maps, clues, and papers on the floor, and worked for a few hours to figure out a timeline. I am fully aware that most people do not think of this as their idea of a fun vacation. By the time I had roughed out a plan, it was time to wake up.
My plan was to get out of Vienna as soon as we could, not staying to do the little 25 point scavenges of a museum here or there. Rather, it seemed to make sense to go west, stopping in several cities linked together along the way. That seemed efficient and logical. But, it also was what we were supposed to think. Christine looked at the plan and suggested we do something different, and go east instead. That’s what we did. And was it ever a great move. Brilliant. We went to Bratislava, Slovakia. It was an impulsive decision. Our guidebook (Western Europe) had absolutely no information about it. We set off blind, taking all of our luggage with us. Although now burdened with all our stuff, we decided to take a boat from Vienna to Bratislava, and then a train to the next place. The boat ride was an hour and 15 minutes up the Danube. Beautiful ride!! The trees along river’s banks were fully green, and sprinkled with fishermen’s cottages. It was bucolic. On the boat, we met a 21 year old young woman named Christina, who is studying English. She was eager to talk to us in English and we were eager to talk with her about the weird questions we needed to get answered. Like: what do local Slovaks think Hrad Castle looks like? (ask three). The answer is: an upside down table with its legs in the air. We got two boat crew guys to tell us their views, and got the same answer. Fortunately, the boat had some tourist maps and even more fortunately, we met Christina and another woman who lives in Bratislava and could help us map out a very efficient plan to do a loop around the city to find the things we needed to find. One of the spots was a place formerly known as Stalinove Namestie and to say what happened there on December 13, 1992. The answer is that it is now known as the place of the Slovak National Uprising, when the people declared independence from Czechoslovakia. The cathedral, St. Martin’s, has hosted coronations of dozens of royals. Having known virtually nothing about Bratislava, in about one hour, we got a cram course and a whirlwind view. We got back on the boat and returned to Vienna to finish up a scavenge we had not completed the night before, and then off to “the” train station. At that point, we were considering three alternative routes. To decide, we needed accurate information about train schedules. We decided to go to the station in the south of the city because it is the departure point for Graz, where we thought we were most likely to go next. However, it turned out that the schedule was much too infrequent and would cause us to waste several hours to get the next train out. Oh! If we could only use the internet. This game lacks reality. Instead of juicing up the iPhone to check the train schedules, I am embarrassed to say that we spent over 15 Euros taking taxis (because we are lugging our suitcases now) from the boat to a train station and then to a second train station - to get the schedules so we could make our next move. A big factor in our move across Europe is to minimize the luggage hauling. We have to lock up our bags in train station lockers while we run around a city; retrieve the bags, and move on to the next city. We decided to go to Salzburg for three hours, on our way to Munich, where we would spend the night. As we dragged our bags toward the train station exit, Christine spied a hotel across the street that looked like it was decent. And…it was across the street.
We looked at the room, checked in, and zoomed off to do some scavenges in the old city. A lot of the things we saw were architectural – three old gates to the city, three different types of clock towers, and four different types of architecture. Last task of the evening was to go to what was once the World’s Biggest Bar – the Hofbrauhaus, where we experienced gemutlichkeit (having a good time), and did the bonus of singing along in a German drinking song, and then getting some fellow revelers to sing our national anthem. Choosing the right table to sit down at was key. We sat with two guys who did not know each other, and who we could draw in to create a happy little table. There was Willy, who was well on his way to merriment; and Joseph who was red-faced, smiley, and wearing lederhosen and a straw hat. They were ready to party. The oompah band was oomping away and the mood in the Hofbrauhaus was high-energy happy. Moments before we walked in, Munich’s soccer team just won a game that got them to the playoffs. We also aimed to do the taste test challenge of tasting three different kinds of beer (Pils, Helles, and Weizen) and making a video to comment on them. The thing was – no order smaller than a liter of beer. We passed on the idea of ordering three liters of beer at 6.90 Euros each. As it was, the one liter I ordered went unfinished, and Willy happily polished it off as we left – close to midnight.
The next morning, we did a really cool scavenge before our train left. We had to go to the Deutsches Museum, which focuses on industry and technology. We had to find out who created the World’s First Globe. The globle was in a case with a whole bunch of other globes – not singled out in any way. The little information card next to it states that it was indeed the world’s first globe. The creator was Martin Behaim. The thing is – he created it in 1492 the year of, but before he knew that Columbus discovered America. Bad timing! That was a really fun discovery.
In the train station before boarding our 10:08 train, we bought three beers and did the taste test which we passed over the night before. The verdict? All three taste really bad before 10:00.

Money: There is Always Something New to Learn

2010-04-29T18:05:00.001-04:00

Some Random Encounters Regarding Money:
1. An ATM machine for the Bank of Ceylon dispensed currency without requesting my PIN number. That is the first time I ever got money without being asked for a PIN. That is a rather disturbing situation if someone takes your ATM card.
2. I am pretty sure that the ATM in Kandy shortchanged me. Instead of 10 bills, I received 9. Same thing happened to another traveler.
3. On leaving Sri Lanka, at a currency exchange counter in the airport, the clerk refused to buy back my currency because I was unable to produce a receipt showing that I had purchased it.
4. In Laos, buy only the smallest amount of currency that you might need. Except for a very limited amount, you cannot sell it back. Anywhere.

A “Full Day” in Jordan Begins at 4:30 AM

2010-04-26T09:30:00.000-04:00

The rule was that we were not allowed to leave the hotel before 4:30 AM. Of course, that means that if we have any hope of accomplishing what we needed to do for the day, we should be out the door at 4:30 AM. We had until 10:00 PM to scavenge for the “day”. First stop: Petra.
We really liked our taxi driver from the day before, so we arranged for him to be our man to drive us all the way to the south of the country to do the scavenges farthest away, figuring that less was at risk with other taxi drivers closer to Amman. The Petra scavenge required that we must take the King’s Highway either to or from Petra. Strategically, it made more sense to get to Petra quickly on the alternate Desert Highway, which would allow us to arrive at Petra when it opened. As the day wore on, we could move over to the slower King’s Highway. Christine had already been to Petra twice. I had never been. It was as much of a thrill as I had hoped it would be. It helped that we were there before the crowds and in the pleasant morning air, before the sun was fully above. Our taxi driver had coached us extremely well as to what to do when we got into the gate. The scavenge required riding a horse or a horse-drawn buggy through the Siq down to the Treasury. He advised that we hire the buggy to take us all the way to the end and to wait for us to finish our sightseeing so that he could return us to the front gate. Riding in our silly surrey, jostled on the rocky road, we passed the people on foot who were experiencing this ancient site in a more serene (and sane) way. The Siq is a narrow canyon of red rocks, reminding me of Bryce Canyon’s Wall Street. After gentle twists and turns, the Treasury dramatically appeared before us. It is breathtaking. The sun played on the reddish yellow rocks and it was gorgeous. The surrey trundled down to the end of the Street of Facades where the wide road ended. At that point, again well-advised by our taxi driver, we hired donkeys to carry us up a very steep hill with slippery rock steps, to the Monastery. The round-trip deal we cut with the driver, we later learned, was key. Some of our fellow travelers were abandoned by their donkey guides, left to descend the tricky canyon by themselves. The ride up was one of the more magnificent experiences I have had. We had the canyon to ourselves and our Bedouin donkey guide. As the donkeys plodded up the worn stones and wound us up into the mountains, alongside deep chasms, we marveled at the beauty and serenity of the place. Later that evening, we confessed to each other the dark thoughts that crossed our minds. Mine was that if I fell off the side, I hoped I would be conscious enough so that I could instruct Christine how to use my cell phone and where my MedJet Assist card is so that she could get me helicoptered out of the canyon. It didn’t help that each of our donkeys stumbled a few times. And, later we learned that the donkey that one of our fellow travelers was riding fell down and she fell off. Fortunately, the fall was at the end of the ride, and on a flat spot near the bottom. Good to know after we were finished. The ride down required mind control into an altered state. But, enough of that. The monastery is kind of like the façade of the Treasury below (the Temple of Doom from Indiana Jones). The difference is that it is way, way, way up on the mountain. After returning to the bottom of donkey-ride challenge, we rejoined the main road where we met up with the buggy driver who had waited for our one hour donkey adventure. A footnote about the meeting place. There are ruins of a structure perched on the hill at the junction of these two paths. Flying above the tallest pillar of the structure is a pennant for Brown University. What?!? I had to rub my eyes to see if they were tricking me. The Bruin’s flag is flying in the middle of nowhere in Jordan? I must remember to find out if there is an archeological project underway in Petra.
Next was Wadi Rum, a beautiful and exotic nature preserve. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom is a rock formation rising abruptly out of the ground, which we approached by walking into the desert part way to it. We did not pay one of the 50 or so 4x4 drivers lined up waiting for a customer, of which there were none.
After we finished some additional silly scavenges in the Wadi Rum park, we headed north to Amman, picking up the King’s Highway. Our plan was to get back to Amman and do more scavenges until the 10:00 PM deadline. We did eleven more when we got back into Amman. The highlight of them all was being at the Temple to Hercules at sunset. The Temple ruins are large pillars atop the Citadel Hill, which is an expansive field of ruins peppered with grassy spots. Amman city rings around the hill. As the sun set, Amman seemed to spread out before us in all directions. The buildings appear as tight white boxes pressed together. Lights started to twinkle as the sky became inkier and the sun’s golden glow compressed down to the earth. All at once, the muezzins’ nasal, singsong calls to prayer filled the sky from all directions. What a beautiful, spiritual end to a very full day.
Next stop: Vienna

Jamming Jordan into One Day and a Half: The Half Day Goes First

2010-04-26T09:28:00.000-04:00

The first order of business is to get a decent guidebook in English. We went right out of the hotel and paused before getting into just any old taxi. We wanted to make sure that the driver spoke English well. That moment of caution paid off enormously. We passed over a cabbie who smiled a lot but couldn’t converse with us. The next cabbie was a charm. Moussa spoke excellent English and took us to an English bookstore. We bought a Lonely Planet guide to the Middle East. Of the $45 investment in the book, only 65 pages were relevant to Jordan. Precious pages, though, because we are crippled if we don’t have a good guidebook to help figure out what the scavenges mean, and then to map them out to make a plan.
As we sat in Moussa’s cab and strategized, Moussa whisked us right to Jerash, to see the Roman ruins. We had three things to do (walk the Oval Plaza and the Triumphant Arch, and pay respects at the Temple of Artemis). Unfortunately, in our haste to get going, we failed to realize that one of the scavenges was supposed to be done at Jerash – to play out a scene at the Roman Amphitheater by making a video. Oh well. Haste makes waste. No time to go back.
Next was Madaba, a town south of Amman, to see a 19th century world map made of mosaics on the floor of a Greek Orthodox church. We had a mandatory snack at the coffee shop Ayola across the street from the church. It was a delicious chicken sandwich – but then again, things are more delicious when you are starving. To finish the last piece of that scavenge, we had to go to Mount Nebo and take in the view at the top. Our taxi driver raced us up to the gate just in time before they closed for the evening.
We rode down to the Dead Sea to float while reading a newspaper. After a detour to the hotel to get bathing suits, we arrived just as the sun was setting. Not surprisingly, the experience was much like it is on the Israeli side. You take a newspaper and pose for a picture while floating in the salty water. We paid to enter a beach club. We chose an inexpensive one used by locals, rather than trying to navigate the more expensive hotels loaded with amenities we were not going to use. All we needed was a changing area, access to the sea, and a fresh water shower. It was just about dusk. The air was a balmy high 70s – a perfect soft breeze wafted as the sun set and a peaceful feeling settled. We changed into our bathing suits and walked down the soft sand to the shoreline. Along the way, we passed small groups of people sitting in plastic beach chairs, some picnicking, one or two gathered around a small fire. Almost all of the women were fully dressed, with heads covered. A few teenagers wore western bathing suits. As the sky darkened, we could see the lights begin twinkling on the Israeli side of the Dead Sea. For the newspaper prop required for the float, we removed from our travelling “evidence” book the Hong Kong Sunday paper we had collected during the first leg of our trip.
We did two more things – both mandatory food scavenges -- before returning to the hotel for the 10:30 curfew. We found and ate mansaf, a meat dish in a delicious soupy yogurt sauce, with rice. The absolute highlight was kunafa – a sweet dessert served hot. It is a base of melted cheese with a hard caramel topping. Our taxi driver took us to Habibah, which he said is the best place to eat kunafa. It was 9:30 at night and the store was packed with male customers, buying up kunafa. It is served out of round pans that look like pizza pans. The store is a beautiful chandeliered upscale place, with abundances of decorative pastries stacked in intricate designs. But, the main event is the kunafa. All the attention and bustle focused on the kunafa counter. It was like an elegant pizza-by-the-slice emporium. We took our servings outside and became instant kunafa lovers.

Warm and Fuzzies in Jordan

2010-04-25T23:45:00.003-04:00

To enter the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Amman, Jordan, we had to pass our luggage and handbags through the x-ray screening, walk through a metal detector and then submit to a body search by female security guard holding a wand. Every time we come into the hotel, we undergo these procedures. Even if you have to run back in for a sec because you forgot something. These are vestiges of a terrorist's vicious bombing a Jordanian wedding party a few years ago that killed many and seriously damaged the hotel. While driving on the roads, our taxi drivers are frequently stopped by police to have their credentials checked. As one of our scavenges, we had to approach but not try to cross the Allenby/King Hussein Bridge from Jordan to the West Bank. Taking a photo was out of the question. The access was patrolled. We asked a taxi driver if he had ever been to Israel. He said "No. I would love to go, but I refuse to sign a paper where I ask the Israeli government for permission to visit as a tourist, when it is my own country".
But overall, the politics and the strife in the Middle East were a mere footnote to our wonderful experience visiting Jordan.
The country is beautiful and everyone I encountered was friendly, smiley, and helpful. It is a definite virtual hug when someone asks where you are from, you reply "USA" and they respond with a warm grin an emphatic thumbs-up. We even got this response many times from the highway police who stopped our taxis and leaned into the driver's window to see who is in the back seat.
I like this country.

Long Haul to Galle – Tsunami Territory

2010-04-24T15:32:00.000-04:00

For the last day in Sri Lanka, we have until 4 PM, when this leg ends. Having done most of the little scavenges around the city of Colombo, we did not have enough remaining to do to fill the time if we stayed in Colombo.
The sticky thing is – the other scavenges are far out of town, many hours away. There is a hard stop at 4 PM and we cannot be late. The train schedules are iffy and the roads are crowded. We decided to go to Galle, a roughly 3 and a half hour trip away. Galle is pronounced like “gawl”. Since we are required to take a train one way and since the trains are less reliable than the roads, we decided to train down and get a taxi back. The earliest train we could take is 6:50 AM. We left the hotel at 6:10 and walked to the station. Unlike our previous train rides, this train does not offer first class, which means that you cannot buy tickets in advance. Gauging from the crush of humanity at the train station at 6AM two days ago, we were concerned about being able to push through in time to buy a ticket and get on the train. Mysteriously, the station was all but empty and we breezed through with plenty of time to spare.
We got seats, travelling with the Camels from Dubai again, and the four of us were able to get four seats together. Even though it was second class, it was just fine – padded comfortable seats and not too crowded. We had asked the hotel to pack us breakfast boxes, which we ate on the train in comfort.
The previous day, our second class train ride into Kandy was crowded, standing room only. I stood next to two young women dressed fully in black, with only slits for eyes. One of them even wore black gloves. It was about 95 degrees in the train. They both had beautiful eyes that were made up with cosmetics. The glove-wearer spent much of the train ride chatting on her hot pink cell phone. The other one took an interest in me, and at one point, I got the opportunity to sit down and we chatted. Her English is excellent. She wanted to know where we were going, and offered advice on how much further our trip would be. She tried to be helpful and informative, but was 100% dead wrong. She had her directions and timing mixed up, but we were confident of our navigation, so I just enjoyed the cultural exchange.
The train ride to Galle was interesting and very different than all the other rides we had taken up in the Hill Country. Today was ocean day.
Sri Lanka’s capital city of Colombo is on the Indian Ocean, on the west coast of the country. To travel to Galle, we rode the rails in a southerly direction down the coastline to the bottom of the country. Virtually the whole trip was ocean view. Although we hoped to, we did not get to see the stick fishermen. (Those are the men who hold fishing poles, while standing on stick stilts in the ocean). It was raining; and also we understood that generally, the stick fishermen are further south of Galle.
As we travelled south from Colombo, we got into Tsunami territory. A few times along the way, we saw blue signs posted on the tracks saying “Tsunami Zone. Go to higher ground or inland”. We saw much rubble and suggestions of remaining walls from brick and cement structures that had been demolished by the Tsunami. There was much “rebuilding” of little shacks dotting the coastline. We understood that the Tsunami hit and wiped an entire train off the tracks from the rail line we were riding on. Apparently, it was the worst rail disaster in history. Galle’s new town was severely hit by the Tsunami and many people were killed around the bus station area. But the old fort’s solid walls kept damage to a minimum.
Many people live on the narrow stretch of land between the train tracks and the ocean – often as slender as a football field in length. In other words, many people live steps from the beach. Many of the homes are wooden shacks with roofs made of leaves or corrugated metal. Much of life seems to take place out back of the house, i.e. on the train tracks. We often saw people sitting on the tracks, using them as a bench.
When we arrived in Galle it was teeming, pouring, buckets, big dumps, giant shower of messy, chaotic rain. Not the best of conditions to stroll around the fort area, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The fort was first built in the 1500s by the Portuguese as a military base against the kingdom of Kandy, and was later expanded in the 1600s by the Dutch for shipping, and was the main port in Sri Lanka for more than 200 years, as an important stop for ships travelling between Europe and Asia. Because of our crazy schedule, we had only 55 minutes to visit Galle, before we had to start back on our return trip to Colombo to meet the 4 PM deadline. We found the mandatory sites, photographed them, had a taxi take us back into Colombo and got back with 45 minutes to spare.
Just enough time to squeeze in the scavenge of finding snake charmers. I got a picture of me holding a snake, flanked by snake charmers. The snake started to turn its head back up toward my hand just as the picture was being snapped. I was NOT smiling at that moment.
Next stop: Amman, Jordan.

Ambling Around the Ancient Cities

2010-04-23T06:17:00.005-04:00

We bought a multi-site pass called the Cultural Triangle Pass. We burned a hole in it (got our money's worth big time). In one day, we visited Anuradhapura, Minhitale, Polonnaruwa, and arrived in Sigiriya by nightfall.
But first -- the train. For many of the sites, we had to travel at least one leg by train. The trains run infrequenly. Logical challenges. We travelled with the Camels team again - Sami and Brian. Great couple and it was very helpful to have four of us on the lookout for things. Great teamwork. Besides, it's fun.
We covered a lot of territory and did an awful lot of walking around. Did I mention it's very hot and sticky and we are in the jungle?
Anuradhapura became a capital city in 380 BC. For me, the highlight was the sacred bodhi tree which is the oldest historically authenticated tree in the world. It has been tended by guardians for over 2000 years.
Polonnaruwa is a large, sprawling complex. When it feels like the temperature is over one hundred degrees, it is pretty hard to get excited about getting baked among temple ruins. Nevertheless, we carried on. We saw a former home of the sacred tooth. (More on that later - We saw the current home of the sacred tooth the following day). A top sight in Polonnaruwa was the gal pota, an inscribed stone tablet like an early book. It is the largest stone inscription ever discovered.
Parts of the ciry's ancient irrigation system are still in use to draw water from the lake and irrigate the rice paddies.
We pressed onward to Sigariya and checked in to a hotel with a perfect view of the giant rock we planned to climb in the morning.

Elephant Dung Notepaper

2010-04-23T06:17:00.003-04:00

We visited the government-run Pinnewala Elephant Orphange near Kandy in the Hill Country in the center of the country. We were very pressed for time to catch a train so we only had about 20 minutes to visit. We would have loved to have stayed longer. From the entrance, we climbed a dusty brown rounded hill into the property. Just over the crest, dozens of elephants came into view. They were standing around in small groups, looking like they were at a cocktail party. A mahout, or trainer, motioned us to approach and let us pet and pose with the elephants. The orphanage rescues elephants. Some have been mutilated by having their tusks removed. One elephant is seventy years old and blind. About 90 elephants live there. Since the orphanage was founded, about 49 baby elephants have been born there. We later read in the Lonely Planet guidebook that some people criticize the orphanage for allowing too much human contact and for breeding them.
The orphanage produces paper out of elephant dung, which they fashion into notepaper and stationery for sale in the gift shop. As one might imagine, the paper is thick and fibrous. All those reedy plants in the elephant's diet make for a pulpy paper. We did our bit for Earth Day by buying some luxury dung products.

Super Sri Lankan Morning

2010-04-23T06:17:00.001-04:00

At about 7 AM, we were at the entrance to the giant rock in Sigiriya. The rock is an icon of Sri Lanka. Really good move to be there when the gate opened. The day was hardly cool at that point and it only got hotter. It took about one and a half hours to do the round trip to visit the top. Christine was missing a sneaker so she had to do it in flip flops. They were stolen from her when she was required to take them off to use the bathroom at the temple just below the top. After some nail-biting minutes, she recovered her sandals in time to face the trip down. On the climb we saw ancient frescoes painted just below an overhang of rock. We entered through the giant paws of a lion (made of stone) to approach the top of the rock.
It was exhilarating to stand on top of the rock and take in the view for miles.
We were at the bottom in one and a half hours and took a tuk tuk to the hotel. We grabbed up the parcels of things we had brought for the school children and set off for an elementary school.
Our tuk tuk driver drove for about ten minutes further into the jungle. He brought us to a tiny school with two teachers and two rooms. The teachers welcomed us in and as we gave our gifts to the school, the teachers gathered all the children to line up for us and say hello in English. They were all in uniform. Crisp white. These are children who live in homes with no floor, no running water, rare electricity, and barely a roof over their head. They were all bright eyes, beautiful, polite, and well behaved. They sang a sweet little song about the instruments in the orchestra, going through the hand motions and sounds of each one. I wonder how many of those children will ever get to hear a real violin.
That was an amazing and touching experience.
It was only 9:30 and we had already climbed a mountain and (we hope) made a little difference in the lives of some school children.

Shoes

2010-04-22T13:27:00.005-04:00

Shoes are important. Yesterday, we bolted out of our hotel at 5 AM to catch a 5:45 AM train to Anuradhapura. We had both brought sneakers and flip-flops -- or so we thought. The three day journey involves climbing a lot of stairs and a giant rock; as well as visiting many archeological sites with temples where you need to remove your shoes to visit.
Although we needed those two pairs, at one point yesterday, Christine was down to only one shoe. Somehow she either lost or had never packed one of her sneakers.
She was managing just fine with her sandals until she had to use the ladies room at a temple. They make you remove your shoes. While she was in the ladies room, her sandals were stolen.
Fortunately, the person who took them was blatant enough to have put them on and was walking in them A man who learned of our predicament noticed the shoes on that woman's feet and got them back for Christine.

Complicated Calculations in Colombo (Sri Lanka)

2010-04-22T13:27:00.003-04:00

This leg of the trip is four nights in Sri Lanka. Although we have hotel rooms in the Hilton for four nights, to do this leg we must get out of Colombo and into the countryside. Sri Lanka is about the size of Britain and is longer than it is wide. There are several choices in each direction. We are traveling with the Camels from Dubai. It took more than a half day to come up with a workable plan. Silly-sounding, but it is hard to plan. First, it took about one hour to get a guidebook in English. Then, we had to figure how to fit the destinations together when they are in different directions and several of them may be reached only by train in one direction. We headed off to the train station to get the schedules. Ha. India redux. There is no published or posted timetable that we could find that pulled all the schedules together - even for a single destination. The Intercity ticket office (which we liked a lot because it is air conditioned) sells tickets for trains from Colombo to Anuradhapura.
However, there is at least one more train a day that is accessible via ticket purchased from a different office in the same station. And, there is much, shall we say, flexibility, about the arrival time. The man selling us tickets didn't provide a specific target arrival time. For the destination of our first leg, he said four or four and a half hours. And, we read later in the guidebook that train delays are expressed in terms of "quarter day late", "half day late", etc.
We have a hard stop that we must report back to the Colombo Hilton by 4PM on Friday. We cannot be on the road between 10PM and 5AM. So, to link the destinations together into a plan, we have a fuzzy idea of where we can spend the first night. It's kind of like the old cowboy movies where the posse leader aims to try to make it to a certain destination by nightfall.

Guess Who is Coming to Dinner?

2010-04-22T13:27:00.001-04:00

One of the scavenges is to get yourself invited into a family's home for dinner. We did it! In the late afternoon just before sunset, we stalked our prey of who to go after to invite ourselves to dinner.
We were on the old city section called Pettah, where the busy market bazaars were closing down. We were in thr area, buying school supplies and soccer balls to give to a school. Having gotten the notebooks and pens, we searched for a place to find the soccer balls. We found what we needed in a store, rather than a stall. A nice young man named Farzath waited on us in English and negotiated with us for a discount for a bunch of balls. On our way out, we told him about the Scavenger Hunt and asked if he could also help us by letting us go home with him for dinner. Absolutely! Love to!
It was around 6:30 and we were invited for 9/9:30. We dashed out to have a cocktail at the members only Colombo Cricket Club. This involved not only talking our way in (fast talk about memberships in other clubs, reciprocal, blather, blather, etc.). We got past the door. We entered the bar looking fairly disgusting. We were sweaty, stinky, and carrying a large plastic bag filled with 6 soccer balls, and a heavy tote bag filled with school supplies. Next trick was to actually get served a drink. When the waiter told us sorry, he couldn't serve us, we sidled up to a member at the bar to ask if he would host us (explaining the Scavenger Hunt of course, and paying our own way of course). The club walls are dark paneled, covered with photos of cricket and rugby teams. The names and pictures of the players morphed over time from very white and English in the past to very dark and Sri Lankan in the present. The bar area overlooks the playing field. Players were on the field, practicing under the lights.
We made a quick stop at the hotel to clean up and buy a gift and candy for our hosts. Farzath lives in a third floor apartment on top of a police station in the crowded old area of Pettah. His family is lovely! He and his wife have two little boys, about 4 years old and 6 months. They live with Farzath's parents and his brother and sister. They are Muslim and Christian. While we were visiting, a parade of friends and neighbors carried in their babies to show us. We looked at Farzath and his wife's wedding photo album and at baby pictures.
Dinner was String Hopper Koffu, a dish that resembles fried rice, chicken, lamb and delicious fresh roti made by Farzath's mother.
After dinner, Farzath's 17 year old sister hennaed Christine's finger. She wanted to do more, and to do mine, but it was getting late and we had an early morning the next day. The young girl is an accomplished henna artist. Her work was featured in photographs in the current issue of the in flight magazine for Sri Lankan Air. Both Christine and I had seen the beautiful photos. What a coincidence to meet the henna artist at her home for dinner!
She and Christine sat on the sofa for the henna painting. We were amused by her unusual technique. When a blob of henna was a bit too big, she wiped it off with her finger (fair enough). But, to clean the paint off her finger, instad of using a rag or a tissue, she variously used the sofa cushion, the wall behind the sofa, the curtain over the sofa, and her otherwise clean and attractive skirt. But, her work is beautiful. And the henna dries in a half hour, so the smears disappear into the living room furnishings pretty quickly.
The evening was a wonderful, warm experience.

Chiang Mai Street Snack

2010-04-19T22:48:00.002-04:00

Mekong River Net Fishing at Ban Suan

2010-04-19T22:46:00.001-04:00

Really Big Gong

2010-04-19T22:42:00.006-04:00

Elephant Regrets

2010-04-19T22:03:00.001-04:00

I am putting it out there. I am jealous of the people who went to the elephant conservation center. They had a fantastic experience watching the elephants paint. Heidi bought the elephant's still life of flowers. It is better than I could do. Rainey bought a painting of an elephant's rear end and a tree. It was a picture of life from an elephant's point of view. Totally amazing. Oh well. We didn't know what it was when we made our choices. And, you can't do everything.

Duty Free Refigerators, Washing Machines and Cars

2010-04-19T22:02:00.001-04:00

We just landed in Colombo, Sri Lanka. Walking through the duty free shop in the airport, I was surprised to see large appliances like refrigerators, stoves, washing machines - and cars as the first items one encounters for sale in the duty free shop. Hmm.... Don't know much about this place yet. We are staying for five days.

Fish Ate My Feet

2010-04-19T04:39:00.002-04:00

After lunch, I had a Thai massage, followed by a foot cleaning at a fish spa. The Thai massage lasted one hour. The spa was a lovely wooden pavilion with private rooms behind sliding panels. My masseuse led me in and handed me a pair of soft cotton pajamas, like hospital scrubs. She left the room for a few minutes so I could change. When she returned, she told me to lie down on the mat on the floor. She climbed onto the mat with me and spent the next hour pulling and stretching my limbs. She used all kinds of crazy leverage to tug on me. She twisted her arms around mine, stuck her elbow in my back and pulled. When she wasn't pulling, she was pushing. Instead of a kneading massage like I am accustomed to, she pushed - or rather - poked. Everything felt stretched out and longer. I came out of there feeling as tall as Travis, our ex-NBA fellow traveler.
From the Thai massage, we went right to the fish spa. It was one of the weirder ten minutes I ever spent in my life. First, the attendant washes your feet with soap in a stone tub and rinses them with water. Then, you climb up onto a banquette and drop your feet into a fish tank at the base of the seat. The fish tank below the banquette looks like an aquarium filled with little fish of about 1 inch in length, swimming about in clear water. As soon as you put your feet into the water, they swarm around and start feeding on the dead skin on your feet. They look like sharks moving in for the kill. It feels like little bites; not painful at all -- just very strange. And, it's even stranger to sit there, looking down at your feet knowing that creatures are gorging themselves on the dead skin hanging on your stinky feet.

Traveling Around the World Obliviously (but not really)

2010-04-19T00:39:00.002-04:00

As we travel around playing our game, dramatic things are happening around us. We are in Thailand now, where people are thronging Bangkok in political protest. From our vantage in Chiang Mai, the only awareness we have of the protests and the unrest is from newspapers and CNN on TV. Last night in the night market, I heard a snippet on the radio in English, where a young man was shouting about terrorism. Sounding much like the antiwar rallies in the '60s and '70s, the guy was reading the United Nations' definition of terrorism and the killing of innocent people, and applied the definiton to the government.
The Icelandic volcanic ash that has shut down air travel across northern Europe is, of course, extraordinary. Undoubtedly it will affect and impair us, but we don't know how just yet. Reading the English newspaper reports about the projected eventual shortages of foods into Europe isn't sounding great.
Off to our noon meeting to hand in our results for Chiang Mai and to hear what's next.
This morning, we did two scavenges - a funicular ride to the mountain top, and a drive to the town of Lanphoun to do four scavenges involving finding wats and cherries.

A Minute in Myanmar

2010-04-18T10:22:00.001-04:00

We decided to go for the long haul bonuses in the morning. We went all the way to the north of Thailand on two different scavenges. First, we travelled three hours to Chiang Rai. We had to find the wat where the emerald Buddah, now located in Bangkok, is located. We researched the guide book and found it was Wat Phra Keo. A very long drive to look at a second rate has-been. But, if we continued on for another hour to the Myanmar border to get our passports stamped for bragging rights, we would accomplish another bonus. In order to do it correctly by the 2-scavenge-per-taxi rule, we had to pay our taxi to wait for two and a half hours, so we could have a fresh set of wheels to take us to the Myanmar border rather than risk not finding one back to Chiang Mai.
We left shotly after 6AM, taking food from the buffet with us in take out boxes.
The long drive wound through countryside dotted with police checkpoints. The Fodor's guide we were able to buy in the English section of a book store said that this region is rife with opium warlords who the police try to control. Great. We noticed that halfway into the drive. But then again, the guide book was five years old.
Stopping at a hotel in Mae Sai, the town at the northern border of Thailand, we got into a different taxi to do the one hour round trip to the Myanmar border. While explaining our intention to go across the border, the barely speaker of English said, "Oh, passport stamp". Apparently, we were not making an unusual request.
The border crossing involves walking into the emigration office in Mae Sai and then into the next room to buy a visa for Myanmar. In the Myanmar immigration office, you have your photo taken for a visa they produce at a desktop printer. Since the immigration office has a few tourists milling about, everyone's headshot photo has other people in the background. The visa is stamped "Walk" because the means of arrival is tobwalk across a bridge. Next comes the scary part. To pass border control into Myanmar, they give you the visa they just created and then they KEEP your passport while you visit Myanmar, with a promise that you will get it back when you leave the country. For me, that was not the formula for a lovely stay in Myanmar. We stayed long enough to improve their economy buy buying bottles of cold water and some nuts. Oh, and Brian bought a beer.
When we got to the office to emigrate, only Brian and Sami's passports were in the little plastic tray of passports to be returned. Christine and I had to wait. But, like watching your fellow travelers' luggage appear on the arrivals carousel, I had a good feeling that we would see our passports. We did. A few minutes later, ours were delivered. Phew.
We returned to Chiang Mai and did several more scavenges involving three markets and a wat, eating safe street food (grilled bananas), and talking our way into a restaurant kitchen to help cook something.

Chiang Mai at Night - from Tapirs to Girly Men

2010-04-18T10:21:00.001-04:00

We arrived at our hotel in Chiang Mai and began scavenging at 6 PM. We were required to stop at 10 PM. We started in the old part of Chiang Mai, visiting three wats, and had to find out information specific to each - what the statues are made of in Wat Chang Man, and had a monk explain the four noble truths. At Wat Pra Songh, we had to figure out what was important about it. And, at Wat Chedi Luong, we talked to a resident monk about his beliefs.
We met up with Brian and Sami from Dubai and spent almost the whole evening with them. We went to the night safari which is a game park. There is lake in the center and a teak footbridge and path around the perimeter. We snaked around exhibits of mostly nocturnal creatures. It was a fabulous experience being in a game park at night. And, the paths were not lit to US standards, which made the challenge even more challenging. From there we went to catch the 9:30 show of the Simon Cabaret, which is now called something else and is a little tricky to find. It is a Broadway musical style cabaret, except that it is all "lady men". Even knowing that the performers were men, we found it hard to believe. They were so feminine and pretty. The dancing and lipsynching were really fine. As a special find, we got to eat their buffet dinner which was thrown in with the price of the ticket for free. That freed us from having to hunt around for a quick biite, and the buffet served one of the mandatory food scavenges. Khau neow mamuang is sticky rice with mango. Delicious.
We then parted ways with Brian and Sami. They are great travelers and fun. We made plans to travel tomorrow. Since you are limited to doing five scavenges with another team, we had to split up just before our last scavenge of the night. We were almost scavenged out anyway!
Christine and I went on to the Night Bazaar and located an eatery specializing in insects. We chose what looked like cricket and locust and "ate" them while posing for the camera shot for evidence, but gave the remainder to our tuk tuk driver who happily gobbled them down.
We planned a 6 AM meeting with Brian and Sami.

Hanoi - Mopeds and Ho

2010-04-17T03:54:00.003-04:00

We are allowed to take a taxi or other public means of transport and have it wait but we may keep it for only two scavenges. We started our day full of scavenges by visiting the ancient gate to the city up at the northern border. The taxi waited while we snapped a photo of ourselves in front of it. We got back in the taxi to go do a scavenge in the market, but as we drove along, we realized we had failed to walk throught the gate; and posing in front was not enough. We hadWe started our day full of scavenges at the ancient gate to the city. the driver turn around to take us back so we could do it right. Dumb waste of time. (Ten minutes, maybe). In the market, we had to find something from the war. We took a picture of camoflage pants. From the market, we headed to Ho Chi Minh's masoleum.
But first, a word about taxis and dong. The legitimate ones are quite reasonably priced. The airport trip of a half hour or so in a large taxi was $12. But In Hanoi, rogue fake taxis charge ten times that. We were warned but fell for it more than once. Part of the reason is that the currency conversion is hard to manipulate. There are about 19,000 Vietnamese dong to the dollar. Just remember to lop off four zeroes and divide by two. Easy? Let's just say that we paid $20 for what should have been about a $2 taxi ride.
To add a little salt to the wound, the creep didn't even drop us off in the right place for access to the mausoleum. The grounds must be one thousand acres (not really, but it felt like it) and we had to walk around a good bit of the walled off area to get in.
Then we were faced with security that takes your camera away from you, inserts it in a little tote bag in exchange for a numbered token and the promise that you will get your camera back at the exit to the mausoleum. No choice but to trust.
Ho lies in state in a glass case. The room is regally somber. Nine soldiers in crisp white uniforms stand guard like the Buckingham Palace guards, erect and unblinking. No one in the long snaking line of tourists whispered a word as we respectfully filed by. Not even the girl wiggling on her stillettos in front of me.
We visited some other sites on the palace grounds including Ho's stilt house which is a modest structure in the style of peasants, which he chose to live in, rather than the palace. The sparse wooden house is strkingly meager and simple.
Next was to answer the question: it was shot down during the Christmas bombing raids on December 19, 1972. What was it? Where is it? Armed with a guide book and a map, we confidently headed to the Museum of Military History. The grounds next to the museum are a bit jarring to an American. The tangled bodies of US military aircraft shot out of the sky are on display, arranged like a sculpture garden. Each airplane has a sign next to it with details about date and location it was downed. Probably not a coincidence that the Vietnamese flag waves atop a tower high above. We got to work, reading each of the signs. We could not find an aircraft with the right date. We went into the museum and scoured the exhibits. There was a small map on a wall showing Xs of locations where two B52s were shot down a period surrounding the specific December date we sought. Having spent 45 minutes reading every scrap of English, we left. Turns out we sid not get it. That plane lies crashed in a lake in the southern part of the city.
We visited the prison museum at the Hanoi Hilton. Very sad. Before it was used on Americans, they tortured and guillotined others there.
We did some other scavenges and had lunch at Cha Ca La Vong. The restaurant has been there for 100 years. They serve one dish only. They put a heated pot in front of you with some pieces of sauteed fish and less broth than a Mongolian hot pot, and you heat up fresh greens. Peanuts and dill are sprinkled on top. It was fantastic.
Next was to take a bus from Long Bien bridge area to Bat Throng. The bus terminal in that area was crowded. We looked around for the right place to stand for our destination. We "asked" a policeman by mispronouncing the name of our destination and playing charades to find out the fare and whether we needed exact change to board To ask the fare, Christine pulled out a 100,000 dong bill (worth about $50) to show him. He gasped, curled his hand around hers to hide the money and looked around motioning to be careful of pickpocketers. The farr is 3000 dong and we needed to use a much smaller denomination When the bus came and we prepared to board, I felt a tug on my purse. I foiled the pickpocketer.
The trip to the town of Bat Trang was about 20 minutes through some rural areas. The town makes pottery and there is a dizzying amount for sale. The scavenge was to try your hand at making something. In an area of all retail vendors, we spied a guy on a second floor balcony, working a potter's wheel. We convinced him and his friendly friends to let us try working with them for a moment and a photo.
When we finished, we returned to Hanoi we had originally planned to do the return trip to Hanoi by taxi, thinking that thw bus would be nerve wracking. Actually it was quite pleasant and we scrapped the plan and took the bus. Some darling high school children boarded and a 17 year old girl approached me, eager to converse in English. Great experience.
As the bus pulled back into the depot, we braced for the moped chaos and continued on scavenging until about 8 PM. The next morning, we had a few more hours to get in the last few scavenges. We did as many as we could until the noon deadline.
All the fellow travellers met in the Hotel Metropole lobby, handed in our results and learned what's next. Luang Prabang, Laos. Yay!!! I hoped we would go to Laos.
Before leaving for the airport, a few of us had lunch and massages in the hotel spa. Soothes away the pickpockets, moped-dodging and mud.

Luong Prabang, Laos

2010-04-17T03:54:00.001-04:00

If I have any hope of finishing this blog in a reasonable time, I am going to refer to this place as LP. I could just call it deliciously special. LP is in northern Laos. Laos is bordered by China to the north, Vietnam to the east, Cambodia to the south and Thailand and Myanmar to the west.
LP is a beautiful place. The whole town is a UNESCO World Heritage site. It is surrounded by gentle mountains and slopes down to the Mekong River. There are dozens of wats (temples), many of which are decorated ornately in gold. The town has a languid feel - birds chirping, cyclists holding umbrellas to shield from the sun, saffron-robed monks gliding about....
We started our 6 AM to 10 PM day by participating in the tak bak ceremony at dawn. The monks in their beautiful flowing robes snake in a line down the street. Alongside the buildings, people line up with offerings to the monks. The vendors of the offerings are also on the street, selling the appropriate items to offer. We joined the group of people making offerings. We offered sticky rice in clumps, pink taffy candies, and something wrapped in little packets of banana leaves. The monks file by, holding baskets and they choose items from our offerings, to place in their baskets. Although the ceremony is spiritual and people are quiet and respectful, I couldn't help but see a similarity to Halloween, with the dressed-up monks holding baskets, taking candy and food from those offering it to them. Apologies for my irreverent thoughts. We noticed that between every five monks or so, there was someone carrying a basket that was being used as a slop bucket. Many monks were removing the sticky rice balls from their baskets and dropping them into the slop bucket. We later learned that the ritual relates to the new year celebration - giving back the spirit - or something I obviously did not catch correctly.
New Years in LP - a HUGE event! It is four days of festivities. Our day in LP is the last day of Pimai, the New Year's celebration. The ceremonies include buddah washings, Miss New Year crowing, and construction of little sand stuppas as requests for prosperity. The highlight is that people throw buckets of water on each other. People stand by the side of the road and douse every vehicle that goes by. It is great fun for the Laotians and visitors.
We chose to take a boat across the Mekong River to visit Wat Long Khoun. The boatman we found on the shore had a rickety longboat but we took it anyway. Being out on that quiet river was very special. We drifted by very few people or boats. We saw a few fishermen net-fishing and some children along the shoreline. We visited the wat, reachable by climbing a high hill. Our boatman also took us to another village scavenge in Ban Suan, and we found children playing petanque (a bocci ball game), and we had to join the game, which we did. We gathered that these villages are reachable only by boat. We did not see or hear any vehicles. We felt privileged to have the chance to discover and explore those remote places without a guide- two women alone - figuring it out.
Arriving back into LP by boat, we quicly visited the National Palace Museum and then set off out of town for the elephant ride in a teak grove. What fun! I have ridden elephants before but this was special. It was just Christine and I and the elephant and our driver in the forest. The driver was 20-ish guy. At one point his cell phone rang and he kept driving the elephant while talking on the cell. He carried a large saw balanced on the elephant's neck. We hoped it wasn't intended to saw off the heads of tourists once we got far enough into the woods. (just kidding-the place is an elephant conservation site, so we had some confidence it was legit). As we rounded a bend, we came across a large tree that had fallen across the path. The driver jumped down off the elephant with the saw and started to saw the tree that was about four feet in diameter. Are you kidding? One guy with a little saw? We motioned that we preferred to turn back. By the time we returned to the van, we had ridden for about an hour. That was plenty!
We drove to Phonesay, a small village with weavers. After the car could go no further, we walked, including passing over two rickety bamboo bridges. We found weavers with looms around the sides of their houses.
Next scavenge was to go to the Phousy Market and buy toothpaste, shampoo and cookies for children in an orphanage and deliver the items. We were surprised at how well the dormatories are maintained from the outside. Inside, the walls are lined with one long bed, the length of the room, with children sleeping side by side sharing the giant bed. A few teenage boys were napping when we looked in. Upon giving our bundles of 20 toothpastes and a dozen shampoo bottles, we learned that 500 children live there. We did not even make a dent in their needs.
Next was heading out to swim in the waterfalls. The area was crowded with people picnicing and celebrating the new year. Lots of joy of familes and friends enjoying each others' company.
We headed back into LP to do some final scavenges. The skies opened up into an intense thunderstorm. Ironically, this was the last evening of the new year's celebration, which also marks the beginning of the rainy season.
Next stop: Chiang Mai, Thailand

Hurrying around Hanoi

2010-04-14T17:48:00.004-04:00

We landed in Hanoi in the afternoon. The one hour ride from the airport took us across beautiful stretches of lush green fields, just as I had imagined and hoped I would see. The fields were spotted with farmers, bent over working the fields, topped by their pointy bamboo hats, with work animals scattered around. As the bus brought us into a less rural area, the roadside was lined loosely with little shops and homes. People seem to live their social lives along the side of the road. They congregate, seated together outside, often around little tables. Many sit on stools that look like kindergarten chairs. They are eating, drinking, playing cards, seeming enjoying each others' company. I saw two me chatting, sitting together next to each other in the opened trunk of a car. The weather is very warm, humid, overcast, and on-and-off misty rain. My impression of Vietnam as a serene pastoral setting was trashed as we entered Hanoi. The chaos in the center of the city is nearly constant. The streets are choked with mopeds, noisily zipping around with no regard for traffic lights or one-way signs. Every time we cross the street, we must focus intently. Looking both ways to find a clear spot and play chicken with the drivers is not enough. You still have to watch that somebody doesn't fly at you, through a red light coming the wrong way on a one way street. I will not miss that when we leave.
We checked into the Hotel Metropole. Gorgeous old hotel with lots of history dating back to French colonial days, fell into disrepair and now has been restored exquisitely. Our rooms are in the old part, with grand varnished wood shutters over the windows which overlook the pool courtyard. We had an hour or so to settle in before the scavenging began. I sat by the pool and did my Hong Kong blog. After I finished, I accidentally pushed "back" instead of "send" and erased it. That's my apology for less than I would have written (and did write).
The Vietnam leg runs from April 13 in the evening until noon April 15. There are 38 scavenges plus five bonuses which take many hours but reward more points.
We set off with almost the whole group, to find an English bookstore to buy guidebooks, and then to get dinner together. There are seven scavenger hunt teams. They are: Zoe and Rainey (last year's champions who came in second the previous year and plan to do this every year for the next ten years), Heidi and Lily, Kit and Joanne, April and Travis, Brian and Sammy, and Carol and Rebecca. Having purchased our guidebooks, we set off to do the first of the the three mandatory food scavenges together. We could only find one of the restaurants in all of the different guidebooks we had purchased, and it was too far away. So, we decided to "find and eat a Vietnamese dish known as ca kho". As we stood outside the bookshop figuring out our dinner, Heidi glanced at the menu posted outside of the restaurant next door. Ca kho was on the menu. It is a fish stew served in a clay pot. It was delicious. After dinner, some people went back to the hotel, but Christine and I wanted to stroll a bit, so we went with Kit and Joanne to see if we could knock off a scavenge or two. We tried to find the cinema. We had the address but walked all around the block and into a dark alley that somebody told us to go into. After wasting much time, we dropped that effort and went instead to the Old Quarter to locate five streets. The old quarter is crowded with dozens of little streets that spew off in all directions with little logic. Many of the streets have two word names with the first word "Hang", which means market. We had to find Hang Ca, Bac, Hom, Quat and Trong. Each of the names refers to what was sold by merchants on that street. Even though we had a very detailed map, it was hard to find the streets. The smallest one, Ca, was not on our map but we found someone to show us. At 11 PM, we returned to the hotel. We bumped into Lily and Heidi who said they were thinking about going to the 2 AM wholesale market to try some hot pink dragon fruit. We went in a taxi together to the bustling market near the Long Bien Bridge. It was amazing. Actually, before we got to the market, the taxi driver had misunderstood and took us to a different market just up the street a bit, but all of the vendors were unloading bunches of beautiful flowers from their mopeds and bicycles. We had stumbled into completing a different scavenge - visit the Quang Ba flower market early for some serious eye candy. Well, 1:45 was early, but the market was bustling, with people setting up their stalls with profusions of brilliant color. When we realized the error, we snapped our photos and went on in search of dragon fruit up the road. Seeing the wholesale food market in action was extraordinary. There was the usual market chaos of having to watch your feet and your life to make sure that you don't get run over by a truck backing up or by an aggressive hand-cart pusher. Here, there were people weaving through the aisles balancing long sticks on their shoulders, with baskets hanging in front and in back of them, filled with produce. Bicycles and mopeds laden with goods were weaving in and out of all of this. We didn't spy any dragon fruit at the outset. We walked deeper and deeper into the chaos, we noticed a guy following us at our every turn. Clutching our bags, we felt the urgency to get the fruit and get out of there. Christine spied a stand with dragon fruit and we were able to accomplish the scavenge and leave.
By the time we got back, it was 3 AM. We were debating whether to go for the big point bonus by visiting Halong Bay, which meant an entire day doing a trip which really should be no less than two days. And, we gathered, even when we got there, we would not be able to do much of what you go there do. Plus, we would be forfeiting the time to visit many of the sights in Hanoi. That seemed such a pity. So, we decided to stay in Hanoi, which meant that we really had to figure out the clues and make the most of our time here, with all the little local activities. To do that kind of planning means sitting with the scavenge list, a guidebook and a map, and plotting each of the items to develop a list of what to do in what order. I spent one hour until 4 AM, working on the plan. Then, it was hard to fall asleep before our planned wake up time at 6 AM. Not a relaxing vacation.

Window on Vietnam

2010-04-13T13:23:00.003-04:00

On our way to Hanoi. The Vietnam Airlines Magazine has a section called "Window on Vietnam".
The History section offers a one sentence summary of what we Americans call the Vietnam War. It says: "American War: Vietnam fought America from 1954 to Ho Chi Minh's victory on April 30, 1975".
The Price Guide says, "In Vietnam,be prepared to bargain. To give you an idea of where to start, we suggest the following prices". They offer prices for some transport and food items. The thing that caught my eye was the selection of Grooming. The four choices are: shoeshine, hairwash, street haircut and street-side laundry.
I am also reading today's Viet Nam News. There is a section about children called "Owners of the Future". I found one of the two lead stories to be quite sad. More than 81% of pre-school and primary school pupils suffer from tooth decay. Wow.

Macao and the Passport Pickles

2010-04-13T13:23:00.001-04:00

We set off for a day in Macao via ferry. As we were purchasing our tickets at the ferry station, the ticket seller said to make sure we have our passports. Christine realized she had locked hers
safely away in the hotel room safe. We did a hotel round tripper and returned to the ferry station. We were set back by one hour. (Not bad, considering we could have arrived in Macao before we discovered the need for a passport). The ferry ride was a comfortable one hour fifteen, with assigned seats like an airplane.
When we arrived in Macao, there was a very long line for immigration. The man, wife and teenager in front of us held Myanmar passports. The immigration official inspected their documents and then called over a colleage who led them off to a separate area.
Christine approached and showed her Barbadian passport. The official started to motion to send her over to the guy-who-hauls-people-away, but Christine had a trick up her sleeve. She travels with two passports. She offered up her EU passport instead. That worked better. She was whisked right on through to the other side, into Macao. I was next. My USA passport got me through quickly without a hitch. Phew. We left the noisy crowded immigration hall and set off to scavenge.
We had to do four of six things. Heading by taxi to the northern border of Macau, we visited the Portas de Cerco, the gates that the Portugese constructed as the gateway into mainland China when Macao was a Portuguese colony. We did a quick drive-by visit of the Sao Paolo church which is now only the front wall, having been destroyed by fire, but seems to be an ornate sculptural frame.
The next scavenge took us to the casino district - just as glitzy as Las Vegas. We had to get a casino chip at either the Wynn or the Casino Lisboa. We chose Wynn. The casino looked just like one would expect in Las Vegas except that the staff and gamblers are almost all Asian (and skinny).
We went to A Ma Temple which honors seafarers. We had to take a rickshaw. Ugh. The poor guy was hauling us in the heat with buses and taxis passing by.
Taking the turbo ferry back to Hong Kong, we scavenged the afternoon and evening. One of the more interesting scavenges was to talk ou way in to the Foreign Correspondents' Club (members only) and look at the photo of the last helicopter leaving the US embassy in Saigon. The framed photo is on the wall in a lowly lit wood paneled room. About ten journalists were seated at tables working, either alone or in pairs, speaking in hushed tones. That was a cool experience.
We had several markets to choose from and had to visit two. The choices were: bird, flower, goldfish, jade, ladies, and Bowrington Road. We chose ladies and goldfish because theybwere near each other and near the Mong Kok train station. The ladies market is like a consumer goods knock off fleas market on steroids. The stalls seem two stories high and are packed together. Many are in front of street level stores and srve as a sort of foyer to the stores. The goldfish market is further down the same street. As the ladies' stalls peter out, the stores start developing a theme of pets, pet food, aquariums, and then fish - and then nothing but goldfish. There are large tanks on the street and in store windows, packed with blazing varieties of goldfish. One vendor on an alley adjacent to the main street had pinned rows of dozens of plastic bags of water, each with a sole fish in it. They looked like clear balls with fish floating inside. Big fish, little fish, red fish, gold fish.
Our choice for mandatory dinner was Nobu at the Intercontinental Hotel overlooking the harbor so we could also watch the light show. No suffering here and it was fabulous. The hitch was our attire. No time to change clothes. We were pretty sweaty and gross, wearing sneakers and chunky day packs. And, to make it worse, the restaurant staff has that weird custom of applauding when a new group enters. As we looked around, we noticed other diners wearing similar couture.
The last scavenge of the evening was karaoke. Instead of embarrasing yourself in a public bar, you rent a private studio for an hour at a time, where you could host friends. All we did was sing one song (Imagine by John Lennon) and leave.

She Wong Yee - hard place to find

2010-04-13T13:22:00.001-04:00

Every day, we must do mandatory food scavenges - usually two. If you do not do the food scavenges, your points for the day do not count. The trip organizer, Bill Chalmers created the rule because some previous competitors who were very competitive did not stop to eat. Not healthy. There is always a choice of about 5 places. But usually, some are out af the way it is very hard to figure out others. When I say hard to figure out, I mean after asking many many people and witnessing much head scratching. Mid-day on the first day, we were in Central Hong Kong. We had just finished riding the world's longest escalator. It is outdoors, although covered with a roof, replaces a street of steps and ascends a steep hill through congested neighborhoods. It was a facinating ride by shops, restaurants, apartments. The restaurant we chose was simply referred to as "She Wong Yee in Causeway Bay". We got to the Causeway Bay area by choosing another scavenge - to ride the British Double Decker tram. Having stopped many people on the street to inquire about the restaurant, we finally found a darling English-speaking girl who knew it and gave us directions. Barely helpful, though. This is consistent with our experience that few people seem to know or use street names in Hong Kong. Compound that by our intended destination being named in Chinese (no transliteration). But fortunately, the street was only two blocks long. Process of elimination led us to focus on the eateries, then zero in on the ones with no English letters. Walking into the first one that met those criteria, I spied an envelope on the cashier's desk, addressed to the restaurant we sought. Bingo.
Although the wall-posted menus were in Chinese, the waiter gave us a list that offered choices something like: beef, pork, rice, vegetables, chicken. We ordered the vegys, which were perfectly steamed Chinese broccoli with a sweet thick soy sauce. Delicious. As we prepared to leave, a young couple who were locals approached us and asked if we were vegatarian, because if we were not, we should try the BBQ pork, as the restaurant is known for it. We sat back down and had the pork. It was fantastic.

Pandas!

2010-04-13T02:34:00.001-04:00

So cute! Much effort for four minutes of visual joy. The scavenge required taking a bus to Ocean Park, the full blown amusement park where the Pandas are located. The park was thronged with Sunday visitors and outdoor performances. Nice if you want to stroll about. Not nice for us, as our mission was to find the pandas, photo and split. Unfortunately, in arriving by bus, we disembarked at the first entrance to Ocean Park, not realizing that the pandas were on the opposite side of the park. We had to wait a half hour for the shuttle bus. Annoying and hot, but we sat in the shade and took in the people watching - of which there are throngs to choose from! When we finally got to the panda section, I used my height advantage to reach and hover my camera over the 4-deep crowd which was pressed against the glass enclosure. On our dash out of the pavilion, we got a few minutes to view the adorable creatures through a break in the wall of people.

In a Fountain Under a Waterfall in Hong Kong

2010-04-12T10:54:00.003-04:00

Hong Kong Park is a refreshing beautiful little oasis in Central Hong Kong. We did two scavenges there. One was to visit the former headquarters of the comander of the British Forces in Hong Kong from 1846. The house is now a tea museum. The other scavenge was to take a photo in a fountain under a waterfall. Hong Kong's steep hilly terrain allows for a dramatic waterfall dropping into the rather small urban park. Although there is a walkway under the waterfall, there is no fountain on the walkway. However, from a vantage point while posing at the bottom of the hilly park, with the waterfall in the background, it could seem that one is "under" the waterfall. We gladly took off our sweaty shoes and stood in a fountain, asking a passing tourist to take our photo in the fountain. We spent a lot of time wandering around the park to get that one, but the reward was a cool foot bath.

The Hong Kong Sunday Ladies

2010-04-12T10:54:00.001-04:00

The first morning of the first day in the first country. We begin. We are in Hong Kong, staying in Kowloon (which I, as a Hong Kong newbie, did not know much about). Hong Kong is an island off of mainland China (which I did know); and it is very congested (knew that too). The large hotels are in Kowloon, which is on mainland China, reachable by ferry, train, or taxi. Our first scavenge was to take the Star Ferry from Kowloon to Central Hong Kong and to engage some of the ladies picnicing in the Central area near the Star ferry terminal. That was really interesting. There are thousands of young women seated in groups on the ground, lining the sides of buildings, clustered on grassy spots, and choking the arteries of the underground subway walkways in the area around the station. The ladies are young domestic household help who gather to socialze on their Sunday day off. Most are sitting in groups of five to ten and are eating take out food from styrofoam containers. Many have umbrellas opened around theim, forming a sort of colorful ringed fence around their circle. They sit for hours, talking, eating, playing cards. Many are from Indonesia and the Phillipines. They gather in throngs to enjoy the company of friends on their day off. It was a beautiful sunny Sunday of 75 degrees or so. I think it is a lovely custom. The one thing I thought was a little weird was the ones who chose to spend their sunny Sunday sitting underground on the floor of a dank undergound pedestrian walkway.

The Hunt Begins in Hong Kong

2010-04-10T21:59:00.001-04:00

For a photo of the group and the official blog from the road, check out the official website. www.globalscavengerhunt.com. Look at the photo and guess who used to play for the Los Angeles Lakers.
The fun begins in one hour. We checked into the hotel in Kowloon after a 13 hour flight from San Francisco. We have time to check in, eat, wash up, and get ready for 11 hours of scavenging. More than half of the group has been here before. My partner Christine is one of them. Good thing because I did not even know that by being in Kowloon, we are not in Hong Kong. We are not allowed to read any guidebooks or maps until the cintest begins. I hope to be a lot smarter twelve hours from now.

Barbara and the Barbadian

2010-04-10T03:28:00.001-04:00

Having decided that our team name was lame, we start anew with a new name. We are Barbara and the Barbadian. (My son Gordon came up with the name). There are 7 teams. Besides Barbados and Rhode Island, the travelers come from Texas, Florida, Indiana, Victoria, and Dubai.
My partner Christine and I are on our way to the San Francisco airport. First stop: Hong Kong! We leave at 1:20 PM.

"The Fairly Travelled Ladies"

2010-04-07T22:08:00.001-04:00

... are off tomorrow to begin our trip around the world. My partner is Christine from Barbados. We will meet up tomorrow night in San Francisco. Between now and then there are zillions of little loose ends to attend to.
We DID choose our team name - " Fairly Travelled Ladies". Max thought it sounded classy. Sally said "huh"? I think it sounds sort of like Bare Naked Ladies. But, I am tired now, so the name might seem really dumb tomorrow.

Trying to Tame the Travel Passion Beast

2010-03-27T22:53:00.003-04:00

There must be a hole in the bucket I keep my bucket list in. It seems that I cannot reduce the number of places I want to visit and things I want to do. Every time I cross something off the list, I find new adventures I want to take on.
I will be going on the Global Scavenger Hunt again. My partner this time is Christine, from Barbados. She competed in the Scavenger Hunt last year. I am thrilled to have the chance again to go on this unusual adventure.
(My hidden agenda in writing this is to see if I can figure out how to use a blog post app on my iPhone).

Tantalizing Press Release: 2010 Competition

2010-03-17T23:12:00.003-04:00

The press release says it all...

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Travelwriters.com -- Press Release Distribution 11/19/2009
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--- [ FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE ] ---

Wanted: The World's Greatest Travelers(TM) To Compete in Around-the-World Travel Adventure Competition

SANTA MONICA, CA - 19 November 2009 - So who are The World's Greatest Travelers? Travel writers, tour guides, travel agents, travel bloggers, former reality TV contestants?

Ever sit on the couch watching The Amazing Race, and say: "I could do that!". Well, now anyone can participate in what Outside magazine calls, "...one of the most amazing trips in the world!"

But could you win this real life around the world travel adventure competition?

Many travel pros, and regular Indiana Jones-types too, have participated in the international travel adventure challenge known as The Global Scavenger
Hunt(TM) over the years, but so far, the winners of the annual competition have just been wonderfully resourceful and instinctive travelers--not travel professionals!

The 6th annual three-week international travel adventure competition that will visit at least 10 nations while circumnavigating the globe will begin April 9th, 2010, and the field of 25 two-person teams is filling up fast with several international Teams from the US, Canada, Britain, Dubai, and the Caribbean, already signed up.

"We had some good chuckles at the World Travel Market in London last week,"
says Event Director William D. Chalmers, "The challenge has been made that's for sure. Travel agents always claim that they are the best travelers, but someone in London observed that they were more a kin to high school guidance counselors-that they are good at telling you where to go, but have never personally been there themselves! We've had some wonderful travel writers compete in previous events thinking they were the great travelers--but this is no fam trip, no press junket-The Global Scavenger Hunt is a serious competition, and they all seemed to wilt under the marathon-like pressure of actually having to do competition scavenges themselves."

"And then there are the professional tour operators," Chalmers continues, "Who think they are the best travelers because of their 'experience'. Well, their narrow 'experience' doesn't seem to prepare them for this worldwide event," laughs, Chalmers, a previous winner of an around the world race on public transportation, philanthropist and travel book author.

And so, The Global Scavenger Hunt (www.GlobalScavengerHunt.com) is now looking to fill the final few open slots with highly-motivated globetrotting adventurers who think they have what it takes to go on A Blind Date With The
World(TM) and compete against other travel savvy competitors trying to overcome the event's numerous challenges and ultimately win the title of The World's Greatest Travelers(TM).

Travelers will go from Los Angeles to New York-the long way!

One former participant said the travel competition was, "...like Survivor, The Amazing Race and the Eco-Challenge all rolled into one except with MUCH more cultural interaction!"

Another said, "It's like Christmas and looking forward to opening another present each day and not knowing what it will be.each location unwrapped is a new surprise..."

One previous winner said of the event, "Sheer genius. People often say that a trip was life changing--but The Global Scavenger Hunt really is. You will never see the world again the same way...an amazing itinerary."

And one of the world's most famous and well traveled travelers said, "Nothing needs improving upon.the hardest competition I have ever partaken.thank you for opening the world to me in a manner somewhat different than normal for me."

The Global Scavenger Hunt, created in 2000 long before the hugely popular reality show Amazing Race aired, is all about allowing real travelers to compete in a real travel adventure competition, for all the right reasons-the love of travel, trusting strangers in strange lands and giving something back to the planet. Continues William Chalmers, "Some have called our annual event the Olympics of Travel, some refer to it as A Blind Date with the World because our travelers won't have any foreknowledge as to what countries they're going to until they're onboard a 747 bound for parts unknown, and some have even called it a Magical Mystery Tour. I like that one!"

A cultural immersion at its best, the travel competition event is designed to reignite the magic of travel and be more of a rally, rather than a flat out race. The object is to test each Team's ability to combat the challenges of travel in the 21st Century; not only the inevitable jetlag, language difficulties, cultural differences, strange foods, logistical snafus, along with Team dynamics in the atmosphere of a well-organized competition.

Truly the 'Olympics of Travel,' couch potatoes and armchair travelers need not apply. This real world travel adventure competition is only for the hardiest and most curious travel savvy Type-A globetrotters. The 6th annual Global Scavenger Hunt is for those who crave authentic adventure, genuine exotic travel, real competition, and world-class fun, all the while being a roaming travel ambassador.

But there is much more to this event than riding elephants, swimming with sharks, visiting ancient bazaars, and witnessing Sahara sunrises and Himalayan sunsets--there are lives to change! The event is at its heart a global travel-a-thon that has participants traveling a million kilometers for the $1 million goal to raise money for life-changing organizations. Last year's event helped scores of families with micro-loans and helped construct and fund the building of co-ed elementary schools in places like: Niger, Sri Lanka, Ecuador, Kenya and Sierra Leone, in conjunction with great international humanitarian organizations like: Kiva, The Nomad Foundation, and Free the Children. Funds have also been raised for the likes of: Doctors without Borders, Partners in Health and CARE, among others.

"Would you do it again?"

2009-05-15T13:31:00.002-04:00

Everyone I have talked to about the Global Scavenger Hunt asks, "Would you do it again?" Every time I'm asked the question, I stumble with the answer.

I have hardly unpacked and barely caught up on my sleep; so it's difficult to consider the possibility of revving up to do it again. (Some ask because they wonder if they might want to sign up themselves).

But, here's how I look at the experience - and what would go into trying to answer that question.

1. Of the countries we visited, I had never been to seven of them. You only get to have a first impression once - and I was fortunate to have had lots of them. That was fantastic. Would another "Blind Date with the World" provide as many totally new experiences? I don't know.

2. Bill Chalmers has designed the trip with variety, intelligence, challenge, and fun. Each day was an incredibly exciting adventure (even when it was exhausting and we spent too much time on things we feared might be dead ends).

3. The itinerary was designed beautifully to flip-flop from easy (Taiwan) to harder (Cambodia) to easier (Thailand) to hard (India), etc.

4. The group of travelers Bill chose was fantastic. I really enjoyed meeting everyone on the trip and made new friends who share a love of travel and discovery.

5. It was HARD! Every new place required a strategy and a plan of attack. We had to make decisions and get going with very little information. We had long days, not enough sleep and drove ourselves. But it was very, very rewarding. The more we did, the more we saw and the better it was.

6. I am confident in my ability to approach strangers and get information. But this is different. You have to INVEST in what they tell you - whether it's setting off believing you are going in the right direction, or estimating the time it takes to get somewhere...we had to really rely on people. And they rarely let us down (except some taxi drivers and tuk-tuk drivers who we had to learn to distrust).

7. I was amazed by how consistently generous people from all over the world are with their time. When we asked people on the street for information, with rare exception, they would stop and give us an answer.

8. Although this is irrelevant to any question asked: I learned that I love the Cambodian people. They are extraordinarily kind, open, down-to earth and warm. It was a stand-out discovery.

9. I loved traveling with my son Alex. We made a fantastic team. Got along perfectly and complimented each others' strengths (and yes, weaknesses).

10. I have a great sense of accomplishment...We found our way in strange places and cultures far outside of our comfort zones. And, we traveled the world.

Would I do this trip again? Still don't know.

The most exhausting thing about it was being off-balance by being plunked into a place without context or a map; without the ability to figure out in advance what we want to see and where we want to go.

But, by the time we left each place, we had hit the hot lists and had always done quirky off-the-beaten path things like trying some unusual food or figuring out a piece the public transportation system. Very, very gratifying.

Photos from Iceland

2009-05-14T10:47:00.000-04:00

Gullfoss Waterfall; Geysir (Icelandic word) in Geysir, erupting; Alex and me at the Blue Lagoon (Blaa lonio in Icelandic); View of some people bathing in the Blue Lagoon

Photos from Copenhagen

2009-05-14T10:37:00.000-04:00

FINALLY found Soren Kierkegaard's grave (after 45 minutes of looking in the rain); Alex's Danish host parents from his Junior Year abroad; Alex's host brother; Attending a session of Folketing (Danish Congress) at Christianborg Palace

Photos from Tunisia

2009-05-14T10:28:00.000-04:00

Beautiful town of Sidi Bou Said - outside of Tunis; Tophet - site where over 20,000 child sacrifices were made in ancient times in Carthage; Roman Coliseum in El Jem - completely intact and accessible

Photos from Istanbul

2009-05-14T09:24:00.002-04:00

Photos from Istanbul, Turkey: Spice Market (Misir Carsisi); Mosaic Museum in the Blue Mosque of Sultan Ahmet I; AFTER the Turkish Bath at Cagaloglu Hamam

Descriptions of Photos

2009-05-14T09:05:00.003-04:00

I just posted some photos and here is a little context:

Summing up Taiwan ("We are Taiwanese, Not Chinese")
Meat Pills and Eating Tianbula in Shilin Night Market in Taipei
Tiger and Dragon Pagoda in Kaohsiung, Taiwan
Alex Eating a Fried Tarantula on Road 6 from Phnom Penh, Cambodia
Dead Fish Cafe in Siem Reap, Cambodia
Angkor Wat at Sunrise
Travelling to Angkor Thom Temple by Elephant
Near the Temple of the Emerald Buddah in Bangkok
Buddah in a Tree in Ayutthaya, Thailand (you must keep your head below his)
Birthday Pizza During Thai Cooking Lesson
Contrasts in Jaipur, India: Cow Grazing in a Street, Sari Shopping and Dinner at the Oberoi Rajvilas Palace Hotel
Taj Mahal at 114 Degrees Fahrenheit
Taj Mahal from Bed in Air Conditioned Room at Oberoi Amarvilas Hotel, Agra, India
Eating Turkish Delight in Istanbul
Riding a Rickshaw in Chandi Chowk, Old Delhi, India

Photos from India and Turkey

2009-05-14T08:48:00.001-04:00

Photos from India

2009-05-14T08:47:00.001-04:00

Photos from Thailand

2009-05-14T08:46:00.001-04:00

Photos from Cambodia

2009-05-14T08:45:00.001-04:00

Photos from Taiwan

2009-05-14T08:11:00.010-04:00

Finished in Boston

2009-05-10T05:16:00.003-04:00

About the last thing we felt like doing after landing at Logan Airport was scavenging on a hunt through Boston.
But, it felt absolutely wonderful, cozy and safe to return to US soil.
We arrived at the Copley Plaza Hotel around 7:30 PM. Nothing was strucutured for the evening, but one of the travelers made a reservation for all of us at the Palm across the street. Alex was a good sport and checked in for us so I could run into the Copley Plaza mall and buy a pair of ballet slippers to expand my options beyond filthy sneakers, flipflops and clunky comfortable walking shoes.
After dinner, we went right to bed, as we had an 8 AM meeting.
Alex and I both awoke before the alarm, got dressed and found Starbucks.
At the meeting, we were given the Boston scavenges. For those who had never been to Boston, it was yet another exciting day of scavenging. For those of us (there were several) who had lived in Boston or nearby, it was anticlimactic. But, a group of us rallied and planned to take the Duck Tour and do a few other scavenges.
At this point, the competition results appeared to be locked in. The point levels between teams were far enough apart that points earned in Boston were not going to make a difference.
The Duck Tour was great! The driver was smart and very informed about history, sports, pop culture, etc. We peppered her with weird questions. When passing the Parker House, we asked "Who was radicalized in the kitchen?" (Answer: Malcolm X) "What did JFK do here? (Answer: Proposed to Jackie). She said "What? Are you people on a Scavenger Hunt?" Yep-and it's almost over.
We came in fourth (we think). Only the top three teams were crowned as winners with medals. Anyway, at last count, we were fourth.
At the final dinner at the Rustic Kitchen, the teams reported on our collections of various types that we were supposed to be doing along the way.
For global price index (choose an item and find its price in every country we visited), people tracked the price of things like beer, massage,and bottled water. We followed the price of a newspaper. Interestingly, it tracked very closely with the bottled water prices. Our most expensive newspaper was in Tunisia where the guy in the newstand shortchanged me and charged quadruple the price. Here were the prices we recorded:
Taiwan 100 New Taiwan Dollars
Cambodia 12 Riel
Thailand 30 Baht
India 3 Rupees
Turkey 1.5 Turkish Lire
Tunisia 2.000 Dinars (but he shortchanged us and we paid 8.000)
Germany 1.5 Euros
Denmark 20 Kroner
Iceland 65 Kr.
USA 1.50 Dollars

We also recorded the types of transportation we took. Here is what we collected:
Airplane
Taxi
Bus
Car
Elephant
Boat
Tuk-tuk with moped
Tuk-tuk with inboard motor
Train
High Speed Train
Skytrain
Foot
Subway
Golf cart
Ferry
Bicycle
Swimming
Duck Boat
Rickshaw
Funicular
Streetcar
Elevator
Rotating restaurant

And, our team, Operation Show and Tell, won the prize for the tackiest souvenir, over the leading contender of the Chiang Kai-Shek bobblehead. Our souvenir, which we picked up at Quincy Market in Boston, was a pair of black boxer shorts that had two yellow highway warning signs on the back side, which said "Toxic Fumes". That's how we are all feeling about our clothes and our luggage. It's time to go home.

Ending on a High Note in the Blue Lagoon

2009-05-08T18:44:00.001-04:00

Keflavik, the airport that serves Reykjavik's international flights is almost one hour out of town. Surrounding the Keflavik Airport for vast miles beyond where the eye can see - is - absolutely nothing. The terrain is brown, treeless, almost flat, barren, and rocky. The view from the sole road looks like the moon.
If you don't happen to be blinking at the moment and don't miss it, you can see a small white road sign with red letters that says "Blaa lonio" and points off to the right. Fortunately, as Alex was driving, I had been madly rifling through the tourist brochures and knew from ONE tiny reference that "Blaa lonio" is the Icelandic name for what is advertised as the Blue Lagoon. It is a really cool place and we were looking forward to finding it!
To call it a hot water spring is lame. It is a spa and an edgy, upscale geothermal pool of sorts. Again, these descriptions fall far short.
When we turned off the airport highway and onto the access road to the Blue Lagoon, we saw plumes of white steam pulsing through the air. Those columns of steam emanate from a commercial plant (harnessing the geothermal energy from the hot undergroung water?). The road winds past that plant and around into a parking lot marked by four flagpoles. The gently rolling rocky piles obscured the view into the entrance. Even after we parked the car and walked up the path, the mystery persisted. Suddenly, we arrived at an architectually exciting, boxy, horizontally slatted building in front of us. And, to the left was a small lake of sorts, except that the shores were sharp brown rock and the water was the color of milk, slightly tinted with antifreeze, and almost flourescent.
We rushed into the building to escape from the biting cold wind. At the entrance desk we paid a fee for access, towel rental and plastic bracelet with electronic chip for the storage locker. Alex and I agreed to meet in the lagoon after passing through our respective changing rooms.
In the women's locker room, I had to take off my street shoes right away. Attendants make sure everyone follows the routine. I put my clothes and purse in an empty locker, hovering the chip-enhanced bracelet over a sensor to program the bracelet for that particular locker. (Later, I discovered I didn't hover long enough, was locked out of my locker and the attendant had to get the master chip to let me in).
Even though I had put my bathing suit on, I was told that I had to take a soap shower - no bathing suit allowed.
Finally, I stepped out into the cold air and onto the patio to the lagoon. Stone stairs lined with railings lead into the lagoon. I quickly stepped in. A layer of steam floats on the surface, obscuring the view into the lagoon. The sun was shing brightly, so it wasn't eerie. The water felt kind of like the Dead Sea - slimy, salty, minerally. I met Alex in the water, along with the "family" in our group who we kept bumping into at just about every stop in Iceland.
Alex and I swam across to the other side, to get to the pots of white silica, which are provided to smear on your face for a ten minute masque while you float around in the hot bath. We paddled all the way around the perimeter, to see all the nooks and crannies of the lagoon. One area was roped off for massages. The attendants stand in the water and work on the client who is floating on a raft. Wow. That looked cool! There wasn't enough time for a massage but it's a definite come-back-to!
The Blue Lagoon was our last scavenge of the trip; and from there, we drove to the airport.
In Iceland, the rules were different in that we were allowed to rent a car.
We had arrived at Hotel Borg at 4:30 in the afternoon yesterday and had one hour until our meeting. Alex and I walked out to get money at an ATM, get something to eat at Cafe Paris across the street, and find out where the tourist office was located.
At the meeting, we were told that we had until 4:00 PM Friday, when we were to meet at the gate at the airport for our 5:00 flight to Boston. That left 22 hours in Iceland, if we didn't sleep or eat.
The second the meeting ended, everyone bolted. Almost everyone ran upstairs (to their rooms, to call for rental cars, which were apparently delivered to the hotel). We made a beeline the two blocks to the tourist office, which was going to close in 15 minutes. We asked about rental cars. The lady at the desk advised that we take a taxi (waiting outside the door) to Budget's office at the bus station, but they close at 6:00. We got there in time to rent a small Hyundai Getz and to get directions for the Golden Circle. In the few minute cab ride to Budget's office, we skimmed the scavenge list and gleaned that we needed to get out of Reykjavik and focus on the geological formations. The guy in the Budget office gave us a map to the Golden Circle - the leading attractions. All three spots were on our scavenge list, but we hadn't figured that out yet. Budget Man said it would take about four hours to do the three things quickly:
1. Pingvellir (our scavenge was "world's first parliament building"; and it is the North Atlantic ridge, where the continents of Europe and America drift apart),
2. Geysir (thermal water jets - and where the word comes from), and
3. Gullfoss (a huge waterfall).
Clearly, we would have to start early in the morning. But first, how to use the remaining time in the evening?
Noting the bonus challenge of attending the symphony, we drove to the ticket office. But, bleah, we just didn't feel like it. We had just attended the Royal Danish Ballet the night before - top rate.
The lady in the symphony' ticket office, when asked, confirmed that over 200 seats were empty and the performance was in about one hour. So, instead of buying tickets from her, we peppered her with scavenge questions. Well, hey! It wasn't like anyone was banging down the box office door.
She was quite helpful in answering some questions and for telling us the locations of the restaurants and in deciphering the mandatory food challenges we hadn't figured out.
Svid is head of sheep (yuk).
Reykur lax is smoked salmon (OK)
Bloomor is like Scottish haggis (no thanks)
Hrutspungar is sheep testicles (no way).
We decided to substitute a public swimming pool for the symphony. Similar genre to the Blue Lagoon, but not nearly as swanky. We chose Laugardalslaug, one of the bigger ones, with a lot of amenities. At the pool, we bumped into the "family" - two teams travelling together - grandma, daughter, grandson and boyfriend. Very nice people; and they invited us to join them for dinner at Perlan, in a large rounded observatory that is the tallest building in Reykjavik. But first, we zipped over to the Reykjavic Art Museum to catch the walls of black curtain installation
Perlan was almost full.
We had a lovely dinner at Perlan, the revolving restaurant on top.
At about 10:45 we left the restaurant, stopped by to snap a pic of the Sun Voyager sculpture along the shoreline, and went to bed by midnight.

Even though we had set our alarms for 6:00 AM, we were both up by 5:30. We checked out and were in the car by 6:00. We looked for Sandholt Bakery (not open yet; didn't wnt to wait) and settled on a 24 hour store nearby. We were able to buy breakfast and some water and snacks for our lunar landscape trip. We did two scavenges in the 24 store - Skyr (delicious, thick yogurt) and Appolo brand licorice. We would have gotten both anyway, even if they weren't scavenges.
We got on the road and headed out inland to the Golden Circle. Throughout the day, we kept bumpimg into various teams. Mostly everyone was huddled, shivering, racing to get back in the car, out of the wind.
I wore 5 things on my top: t-shirt, silk sweater, ski underwear shirt, hoodie fleece sweatshirt, and windbreaker/raincoat (plus gloves and a neckie!) Iceland is cold today.
...But am anticipating a WARM arrival in Boston!

Iceland is the Icing on the Cake

2009-05-07T11:33:00.000-04:00

Scavenging in Copenhagen ends at 11 AM Thursday. There were a few things in town that we didn't get to, so we set out to finish what we could.
We had to visit and photograph two addresses in Copenhagen where Hans Christian Anderson had lived. Most Danes we asked associate him with his birthplace and the museum in Odense, a town hours away from Copenhagen. Some offered the Copenhagen address on Nyhavn (the harbor), but our persistent challenge was to find the second, not-well-known location in Copenhagen. It was too early for the tourist office to be open, so we hung around the train station and attacked people on their way to work. Without exception, everyone stopped to listen to the question and tried to help. I seriously doubt I would be that nice if I were rushing to work and some tourist stopped me to ask a really stupid question. Finally, we got the answer from a cashier in a newsstand shop in the train station. She circled the street block on Alex's map but warned that there may not be a marker on the building. We went to the street block and loitered, asking everyone we could nab. Finally, a woman said she thought she knew, and pointed to a manhole cover on the sidewalk, decorated with Anderson's silhouette. We snapped the pic and moved on. That was a tough one! We had some fun with it because the Danes refer to him as H. C. Anderson. And the letter "H" is pronounced "ho" in Danish and the letter "C" is pronounced "say". Putting it together, the Danes pronounce the author's name so that it sounds like "Jose" - like we are looking for a Mexican guy.

We had time to do one more thing before the 11 AM deadline. Either we could tour the Carlsburg beer brewery (35 points and a free beer right after breakfast), or try again to get into a session of the Folketing (Congress) at the Christianborg Palace for 50 points. The brewery was a sure bet to get accomplished, but was probably a 30 minute trip each way and could be risky time-wise. We opted to gamble that Congress was in session, having missed it yesterday. Score! The session started at 10 AM. We passed through security screening and the cloakroom. We had to surrender everything - pocketbook and all, but NOT the camera. So, I gave up my purse to the coat check girl, who hung it on a peg with my rain jacket (rain the whole time we have been here). The guard showed us to the stairway and told us the number of steps (150, maybe?). You had to want it. Big climb up the palace stairs to the peanut gallery. At the top of the stairs was a guard desk. The guard had his eyes glued to a television monitor. Although one might assume he was watching closed circuit security cameras, he wasn't. The guard was riveted to an old rerun of an American TV show that looked like it might have been Hogan's Heroes.
We were seated in the Visitors' Gallery by 9:40 and just watched the chamber fill up with legislators, chilling out until the session started. We watched a few votes get posted on the electronic board - red or green dot, associated with the legislator's seat. We witnessed the proceedings for a little while, I snapped a few pictures, and we left with plenty of time for a leisurely stroll and an on-time arrival at our meeting.
Next stop: Iceland!

Copenhagen in Gulps

2009-05-07T11:23:00.000-04:00

Sixteen hour day. This pace could start to get tiring. We "slept in" i.e. did not set an alarm. After a quick breakfast buffet at our ultra-modern cool-looking hotel on the water in Copenhagen, we took the train one stop to the main train station (Kobenhavn H), got tickets to Malmo, Sweden and were on the train moments before 8 AM. Alex knows so much about navigating Copenhagen, having lived here as a student. The only way he had gotten around was by walking and public transportation. Being on Alex's team is the BEST!
As bad as last evening's luck was with getting things accomplished, today's luck (and Alex's skill) ROCKED.
The big picture/bottom line of the day is that we completed 22 scavenges. Not in chronological order, but by type of activity, we:
1. Visited 2 museums (Glyptotek art museum - saw Van Gogh's Landscape from St Remy, a headless Apollo and Rodin's Burghers of Calais; and the Nationalmuseet - saw Sun Chariot and Royal Collection of Coins and Medals; but passed on the Erotica Museum because it is out of business).
2. Toured 1 castle (Rosenborg Slot, after strolling through the King's Gardens).
3. Visited 1 library (referred to as the Black Diamond, it is the Royal Library and is a striking angular black building situated on the waterfront -- an addition to the original grand library).
4. Climbed 1 tower (Rundetaarn, built in 1642 as an observatory and still used as one today), up its stone spiral ramp.
5. Saw 1 world clock (inside the Rathaus, and noticed that its time was off by one hour due to daylight saving time).
6. Visited the world's largest hostel (well, maybe...the desk clerk said it's the largest in Europe and Europe is in the world).
7. Went to 1 beach (Amager - to see what we could see - Germany across the water but it was too rainy to see Sweden and we held up our bathing suits to pose for the pictures).
8. Had beers in 2 bars (the "Library Bar" overlooking the waterfront at the Black Diamond and Bankerat, a funky bar decorated with weird composite sculptures of animal head skeletons and stuffed animals).
9. Ate 1 Danish hot dog (Rod Polse from a Polsevogn - mobile hot dog wagon; where we ordered Fransk style - in a bun with a mayo mix the Danish refer to as French Hot Dog Dressing). 10. Shopped in 1 toy store for Legos and found out what the name Lego means ("play well").
11. Searched in 1 cemetary for the grave of Soren Kierkegaard, in the rain, on bicycle, for one hour.
12. Rented 2 bicycles to do scavenges (bikes are scattered around the city and are free for use with an automated coin deposit mechanism so that you get your deposit back when you return the bike - SO BRILLIANT!)
13. Rode on 1 one-hour cruise of the canals
14. Produced 2 "public service announcement" videos (one for "No Diet Day" with Alex stuffing his face with candy, and the other offering a theory on why sculptures frequently involve men and horses). 15. Took 2 trains that ride over the Oresund bridge that links Sweden and Denmark (round trip to Malmo, Sweden, where we spent less than 1 hour and took the required 4 photos of typical Swedes - we snapped people biking, shopping, working and driving a Volvo with a NY Yankees hat; 3 commercial boats and 2 plazas).
16. Took 1 stroll on Nyhavns (pronounced "new houn" and is Copenhagen's signature completely charming, picturesque harbor), where we had dinner with Alex's Danish host family who he lived with almost five years ago and who are warm, comfortable, funny, and fabulously good-looking
17. Attended 1 performance of the Royal Danish Ballet, at the new performance hall on the waterfront. Our evening was the highlight of the day. The program was "Director's Choice" and included classical tu-tu-type work, mime, loud techno, edgy, funny,
provocative, and a bit of Hava Nagila thrown in.
A day well spent!

Copenhagen: Third and Final City Today

2009-05-06T11:39:00.000-04:00

Our train arrived in Copenhagen around 6:30 PM. Because Alex lived here for his spring semester of junior year in college, this one is fun for us!
The challenge is in the strategy of what to choose and how to spend our time. We have flip-flopped on this. Our first decision was to shoot right up to Copenhagen from Frankfurt. We had entertained the possibilities of detours along the way, versus getting started right away with the multiple things to do in and around Copenhagen. We had eliminated Norway (far away and boring), Berlin (only points are for Checkpoint Charlie and we have both been there), Luxembourg to get your passport stamped (very long detour), Poland (to take a bike ride on Usedom Island - no thanks), or Heidelberg (half day detour, didn't seem worth it).
We roughed out a plan that put us in Copenhagen (CPH) to scavenge the first evening, go to Sweden the next day, return around dinnertime to CPH and finish up with CPH activities Thursday morning.
It sounded like a good plan but it wasn't. After we checked in to the hotel and dropped off our luggage, we set out scavenging. Everything we tried to do was closed. It was a useless endeavor. We tried to get tickets to the Royal Ballet which started in a half hour (sold out -- but we did get them for the next night). Walked to the King's Gardens (open), but the mission was to stroll through the gardens to visit the Rosenborg Castle (closed). We went to the place which we thought was the cemetary with Soren Kierkegaard's grave. It turned out to be a botanical garden and besides, it was closed. We earned our first points by taking a lovely stroll down the walking street Strøget (pronounced like a throat clearing), on to the Rathaus Plaza (no, it wasn't a Rat House - it is a magnificently decorative public building, where our scavenge was to see the World Clock inside. Literally, the door slammed in our faces. Closed. We managed to snap a pic of the sculptural column with a horn blower on top of it. Hah!
Throwing in the towel for the day, we gave ourselves a well-deserved treat of a stroll and dinner in Tivoli Gardens. The sun was setting, the twinkling lights had just been turned on and were a welcoming beacon. Said to be Walt Disney's inspiration for Disneyland, Tivoli is a delightful landscaped park with lakes, restaurants, music shells, theater, amusement park rides, bursting with flowers - and plunked right in the middle of the city. It is magical. The music drew us in down a curvy pathway. The scavenge was to find the Pantomime Theater. It was one of the first things we encountered and a show was in progress. We stood and chuckled at a few acts and then went to choose a restaurant.
It started out great. Nice menu, delicious appetizers, and while we waited for our entrees to come, we made a silly video challenge of a blind taste test comparing Tuborg and Carslburg beers. We thought we were pretty funny.
But then, a waitress delivered our dinners to the table next to us and they started eating OUR FOOD while complaining to the waitress that this was not what they ordered. It took over two hours in the restaurant. But we had a nice stroll afterwards and collapsed into bed at 11 PM.

Hurrying Through Hamburg

2009-05-05T10:42:00.000-04:00

The most efficient train route to Copenhagen took us via Hamburg. In order to do a lot of the very do-able scavenges in Copenhagen and Sweden, we had very little time to spend in Hamburg, although about 24 scavenges could be done there. We worked out a schedule that had us arriving in Hamburg at about 10:30 and leaving at 1:28. Less than 3 hours to check our luggage at the train station, run around like crazy doing scavenges, and eat a Hamburger. We prioritized our order of doing things according to their location and point value. First was the 150-pointer, "Take a balloon ride over Hamburg". Due to the light rain as we stepped out of the station, we wondered if the balloon would be operating. We waited a few minutes in line at the bahnhof (train station) tourist information booth to ask if the balloon flies in the rain. Line too long. Plan B: Armed with a Lonely Planet Guide of Germany, this time in English, we set off to take the U-Bahn (trolley or subway - never did find out). We deciphered the direction, the stop, the fare, and then discovered that the entrance gate was closed off. Feeling pressed for time, we jumped in a taxi and asked for the balloon. The driver did not speak great English, but we think we made ourselves understood. The driver communicated that we did not need a taxi because the balloon was just on the other side of the train station and he hand-motioned the route. We started walking in the direction he pointed. Then, we second guessed ourselves, not confident that he understood. Consulting our map, we believed the balloon was in the opposite direction. About face; and off we marched. We saw a toursit loop bus idling in front of the train station, which we are now passiong for the second time. We stopped to ask the driver which way the balloon is. He pointed the way the taxi driver had pointed - the opposite of the direction in which we were now headed. About, about face! Now heading out a third time, and in the same direction in which we started, we finally spotted the balloon. It was firmly anchored and had the appearance that it was not taking off any time soon. Indeed, we entered the ticket seller's pavilion and he confirmed that it does not operate in the rain. Forty five minutes wasted.
Next, we set off to the prison, for a chamber of horrors show. With misgivings that it sounded touristy and expensive, we went anyway - mostly because it was 75 points. We bought two tickets for nearly $50 and the ticket seller told us to wait for the show to begin. We were greeted by a guy dressed in black tattered clothes with his face painted white, and fake blood dripping from scattered wounds. We had a brief chat with him. He asked where we were from; we said USA; he said we couldn't come in "HA HA HA HA HA". Not in the mood for that, it occurred to me to ask if we could just walk through the museum ourselves. Nope. It's a 90 minute show...AND it's in German. The English show is at a different time. We returned the tickets and got a full credit on the credit card. One hour wasted. Nothing to show for it except two taxi rides, brochures for things we did not do, and receipts for a round trip of transactions on my credit card.
OK. Reload. Another taxi. This time to try for the last two things we chose that were not clustered in walking distance. First was the Star Club. This one was a research find. The scavenge was to visit one of the three places the Beatles played in Hamburg. The Star Club is closed but you can go to the spot where it was. It is in the center of the sex district. The street has a banner over it saying something about table dancing. The Funky Pussy was across the street. We had the driver wait while we snapped a pic in front of the Star Club sign. Next, we had him drop us at the Rathaus (city hall). We went inside and took photos of the beautifully ornate interior.
Next was to video locals while asking them how many bridges there are in Hamburg. To our surprise, both people we asked said yes on the first try AND agreed to be videoed. Both had the same answer.
Question: How many bridges are there in Hamburg?
Answer: More than 100 and more than Venice. Both guys gave the same answer.
Next video, still in the rain, and amazing that people stop to talk with us. This one was to ask a few tourists where they are from (Belgium, Germany, Germany) and tell them about our trip.
We had a little over one hour to get to the train station, retrieve our bags, do a few scavenges and get on the train.
We found a soccer jersey for the home team, Pauli. We ate a hamburger and snapped a pic in front of the Hamburg sign. Hokey.
The train from Hamburg, Germany to Copenhagen includes a ferry crossing. The train drives right on to the ferry boat. The passengers must get off the train and go up into the lounges on the ferryboat for the 40 minute ride across the water. The boat is lovely, with duty free shops, restaurants, duty free shops, open air decks, and duty free shops. The loudspeaker announces countdown every ten minutes of the amount of time until the duty free closes.
Overall, the ferry ride was way cool!! And relaxing....

Fleeing Frankfurt

2009-05-05T04:14:00.000-04:00

Less than one hour after checking into the Frankfurt Intercontinental hotel, we had to assemble in the lobby to go to dinner as a group. This was the first meal all together since our send-off banquet in Seattle. The dinner also marked the addition of Pamela, Bill's wife, to the group. For the first week, Bill was accompanied by Petra, his 13 year old, smart charming daughter. The second week, he was solo. Yesterday, at the Frankfurt airport, Pamela appeared, to join us for the rest of the way. It was great to see her happy face as we exited the immigration hall. Pamela was at the send-off in Seattle but stayed back. She is the operations and execution queen.
Before leaving for our dinner, we had a brief meeting so that Bill could outline the next leg: Nordic Europe.
We have from the moment we finish our banquet on Tuesday evening, May 4 until 11 AM Thursday, May 7 to meet in Copenhagen, with 99 possible scavenges along the way. They range in point value from 20 (have a cold drink from Ole Skram in Copenhagen) to 500 (take the ferry from Oslo to the Viking Museum and you must take the train to Oslo or back to Copenhagen - no planes). Bill collected the books so we could enjoy dinner. He has assembled a great group of travelers and we have fun together. Although we are competing, we are cooperating and we enjoy each others' company.
Dinner was at Paul Allner (sp?) We ordered beers (Bart and Trevor had two REALLY big beers and the other Alex had TWO of the REALLY big ones.
The food was sausages, sauerkraut, weiner schnitzel - typical German food and quite tasty when accompanied by beer.
Before leaving for dinner, Alex had posted his status on Facebook, saying he was going to Copenhagen. Moments later, he heard from his host mother of the family that lives in the Copenhagen suburb where he stayed junior year in college. It seems that our schedule may work out so we can meet the family in Nyhavn (the colorful harbor area) for a drink later tomorrow night (also, conveniently, a 25 point scavenge).
After dinner, Alex and I (who are VERY excited about these next few days) jumped into a taxi and went right to the train station. Our quick perusal of the scavenges and point values suggested to us that we should leave Frankfurt ASAP, head to Hamburg, Copenhagen, Sweden and back to Copenhagen. We mapped out the start of our schedule and decided we would take the 6:58 AM train from Frankfurt to Hamburg. But first, we needed to do the mandatories in Frankfurt. There were six choices for the mandatory food challenges and we chose "Enjoy a Frankurt cliche, eat a Frankfurter in Frankfurt". Even though we had just finished dinner, Alex was up to the task of eating just a bit more. Easy to find in the train station. Check. Done. The other mandatory in Frankfurt required locating and visiting the Fountain of Justice. We planned to take a taxi, have him wait while we snapped a photo and then contine on to our hotel.
At that point, we didn't have any information on Frankfurt, so we asked the train schedule guy where the Fountain of Justice is located. He wrote out the name of the place where she is located. Armed with the paper saying "Romerberg", we showed the taxi driver and made our intentended stop known. He got it. (Unfortunately, no German-speakers on this Germanically-named team). When he pulled up to the statue, we did a double-take. The mandatory Fountain of Justice scavenge is right in front of the restaurant where we had dinner less than one hour earlier!! Very clever, Bill! The taxi returned us to our hotel. We settled the account so that we could bolt in the morning without checking out; and I asked for a map.Bill appeared at our side, asking if we were checking out of the hotel already. He stood with us as I had asked the desk clerk to confirm the walking directions to the train station, which Alex already knew, but I confirm as a habit. Bill informed us "That's cheating". What a downer after all we had just accomplished it's all in his hands.

Is Frankfurt a Fakeout?

2009-05-04T11:30:00.001-04:00

I slept until a luxurious (?) 7 AM on our day off. After our breakfast and visiting with some fellow travelers, Alex and I decided to go into the medina and visit the souks (markets), which we had only seen at night after they closed. The morning air was fresh and made for a lovely walk. The entrance at Bab el Bahr, one of the main arteries into the old medina, was less than a five minute walk from the hotel. As we entered the old district down its main road, the first souk we encountered was clearly contemplating tourists. We saw rows of items bearing the word "Tunisia". But, as we penetrated further, we could see that the souks are clustered by types of goods. Clearly, vestiges of the old souks remain. There was an obvious section for freshly butchered meats, another for fabrics, etc. But, the global marketplace for goods has updated the souks. We wandered into a lane with vendor after vendor of brightly colored, cheaply made plastic goods manufactured in China, wrapped in clear and sold in bulk. Another area was devoted to "designer" jeans, t-shirts and underwear. One section I just had to get a photo of was a string of shops with a profusion of bunches of dried herbs, alternating with athletic shoes - Nike, Adidas, etc. One shop had both hanging on its walls: Herb and Shoe (Urban Shoe?).
When we got souked out, we headed back to the hotel to blog and chill for an hour before the 11 AM meeting.
In the lobby, Bill told us that we need to leave for the airport in 30 minutes for a flight to Frankfurt.
We are all thinking that is just a stopover. Lots of speculation about what's next. We will know very soon. I am writing this as we fly over tidy green European farms. Feels like home, compared to where we came from.

Taking in Tunisia

2009-05-04T05:47:00.002-04:00

Out the door at 6:15 AM. Quick breakfast - well...quick coffee and then grabbed some breads and cheeses to wrap in napkins and stuff into my backpack for later.
We took a taxi to the train station in downtown Tunis that services southerly travel - Barcelona station. We forgot to make sure that the driver turned the meter on and when we pointed it out,..."Kaput", he said...which meant negotiating a fare. The day begins with taxi driver shenanigans.
Our 7 AM train was to Sousse. There, the challenge was to climb the walls of the ribat - the fortress. It was built in the 9th century in a chain of fortresses stretching across the Mediterranean coastline to defend North Africa from European invaders Above the main gate, a room has four slits in the floor through which boiling olive oil was poured on enemies. From the tower, there was a beautiful view toward the Mediterranean, across the rooftops. We had over three hours before the next train, so we made a list of the scavenges that did not have to be done right in Tunis at specific locations. We went to the morning fish market and made a video of our choices. We visited the hamman - the bath. It was quite hard to find in the twisting streets of the old city. We kept asking directions at every turn, to try to reconfirm, but often were advised to retrace our steps. A kind man with a lovely baritone voice approached and said he had overheard us asking for directions. He offered to lead us there. We weren't far, as the bath house was at the base of the mosque, but we never would have found it - Bain Maure Sidi Bouraoui. Alex had his trusty travel towel with him for the photo op since the scavenge required: "take a towel".
We took a taxi to the Sousse Sunday Market, which our guidebook said said sprawls endlessly along the Sousse/Sfax road and that you can buy anything from a car to a camel. The scavenge was to buy something. We tried haggling for a decent price for a face/neck scarf for Sherry and one for me, decorated with gold-colored coins, but the vendor wouldn't budge from his inflated price and he bothered Alex by tugging on his shirt. We bought cold drinks to go instead. OK, unimaginative, but effective. Next was the hunt for the Casino to collect a chip. After asking about 8 people and getting mixed answers, we found that the Casino had closed, but we snapped a pic in front. Next we tried to find live flamingoes to take a picture with. There is a zoo in Sousse but we found out that the birds are in a separate location. We went to the bird exhibit, which is a tired, ill-maintained park across the street from the beach. The boulevard alinging the beach is reminiscent of the one in Nice, France (which I think is called Boulevard des Anglais). There were only two birds! One was a slender, beautiful crested something or other that I remember seeing on safari in Tanzania. The other looked like a turkey. No flamingo. Next, we tried to "take a camel for a walk in the desert". By asking people all day, we learned that none of the places we were going were in the desert, so we improvised. We bought a toy stuffed camel, walked across the boulevard to the beach, placed him in the sand and "walked" him. Funny pix! And, better than nothing.
Back to the train station for train to El Jem. The 11:48 ran about 15 minuted late and as it approached, a crush of people and suitcases pushed into us and scrambled, grabbed, shoved, yanked to push up the stairs onto the train. We had assigned seats. Ha ha ha. The four of us elbowed and wriggled to secure a seat, none of which were together. But, Alex said he had seen some fellow travellers already seated (presumably having boarded in Tunis), in the first car which seemed to be first class. Indeed! We moved into first class, and although our designated seats were taken, there were four seats open and nobody standing in the aisle, pushing into me. Plus, we got to visit with the three teams who were travelling together - Bev and Buz, Steve and Bart, and Jackie and Sylvia. So nice to see friends and compare travel experiences and information! They slept in a bit and got a later train.
We got off the train at El Jem (also spelled El Djem) to "film a team scene from Gladiator where they filmed the movie at El Jem Roman Coliseum". When we got off the train in the quiet town. There was very little around, and no taxis. We all started walking in search of a taxi. After about one minute, turning the first corner, at the end of a short sleepy lane lined with little local stores looms a HUGE, intact Roman coliseum. It is untouched! No lousy attempts at restoration, no barricades, no tour buses. You just walk up to the thing, buy a ticket from the lone, modest ticket stall and you walk in. The coliseum is only slightly smaller than the one in Rome. We had full run of the place. We wandered down the corridors, climbed the stairs to the top, and went on the center floor. There, we shared the video stage with six of the other teams who arrived all around the same time. It was pretty funny - a bunch of crazy Americans making goofy 15 second Gladiator videos.
Actually, Americans are pretty rare here. One taxi driver told us he has only met two groups. People frequently guess that we are Canadian.
We wanted to press on to Kaiouran but needed a taxi for the ride, which was over one hour drive. The trains only go north/south along the coast. No rail service in the westerly direction we needed. The bus was a possibility but we couldn't afford the time to wait for it. We asked a waiter in a restaurant facing the coliseum to call a taxi and learned we need a special tourist taxi for the long trip. Something about yellow taxis can't go on the long roads. He pointed to a nice, clean, mechanically sound-looking white AC SUV, with a dome on top that said "Tourist Taxi". It looked comfy, for what we understood from Bev and Buz was a bad road. Three of those taxis were parked alongside the outdoor cafe where we lunched. We had watched small groups of Germans and other tourists hop out to visit the coliseum. We tried unsuccessfully to hire one, but they were taken for the day. My French is hardly fluent, but it is a big asset in that it allows access to more people to ask questions of than just those who speak English. While we waited the half hour for the taxi to drive to El Jem, we ate at the restaurant and banges out the last two mandatory food challenges: Berber lamb and Berber pizza. Berber refers to the nomads in the area. We ordered lamb kebabs which were grilled on a barbecue just like we do at home. It was served with french fries (pommes frites - deference to the French). To get the pizza in, I wandered across the lane to the pizza restaurant, also facing the coliseum like the one restaurant we were seated at. I ordered a pizza and when it was ready, I walked back over for "take out" across the street. The four of us posed with the pizza for the food evidence pics, and then ate it, along with the kebabs.
Our taxi driver appeared just as the restaurant bill came. Having asked around of other restaurant patrons and the waiter, we were armed with some data points to negotiate the rate. As usual, he started at double where we thought it should end. Settling on 75 dinars which was higher than we hoped, we followed him to his car. Surprise!! Not only wasn't it a comfy safe-looking tourist taxi or even a yellow taxi, it was a small private car Peugeot. We were over a barrel time-wise, so resigned, the four of us squeezed in. First stop: gas station and the driver wants us to pay for the gas, plus payment in full of the fee. Ken in the front seat: "No. You get half now and you can pay for gas with what we gave you". OK OK.
He warmed up to us and gave us all Arabic names. Mine was Shaquira. We named the driver Obama.
As we had been warned, Tunisian drivers drive too fast, are aggressive about passing on two lane roads, and ignore you when you ask them to slow down. We lived to tell about it. Part of our not-particularly-well-negotiated pricing package with our driver was that when we arrived in Kaiouran (pronounced "Care Wan"), he would drive us to see the three elements of the scavenge and then get us a driver who could return us to Tunis (he couldn't take us all that way). We did not want to be stranded, so we made his payment conditioned on his securing us a ride back.
The main attraction in Kaiouran is the Great Mosque of Sidi Uqba, the fourth most important in Islam, after Mecca, Medina and Jerusalem. Non-Muslims are not allowed to "visit" it. So basically, we paid a lot of money and time to look at the outside wall of a fourth-rate mosque. Besides "looking" at the mosque, the scavenge required visiting the medina ("old city" - where we already were because that's where the mosque is) and make a short video of "your favorite vendor giving you his pitch". Our taxi parked alongside a souvenir shop across the street from the Grand Mosque. As we squeezed out of our cramped car to take a pic of the mosque's exterior wall and stretch our legs, a vendor from the shop dashed out and made a beeline to us, rattling his pitch in English. Pushing the video button on the camera, I recorded while he was talking and got the pitch scavenge without even trying. His gig is that the rooftop of his shop allows for a great view to spy and take pictures over the mosque wall, into its courtyard. No thank you; but thanks for the fervent pitch. Final element was to find the street that doubled as Cairo in Raiders of the Lost Ark. An English-speaking, purported university student (maybe/maybe not), was in earshot of our discussions about the spurned offer for a view and lining up a driver to take us to Tunis (that rolls off the tongue nicely..."Take us to Tunis"). He heard our inquiry to see the "Cairo" street and he offered to walk us there, saying it was difficult to find through the winding lanes of the medina. As we walked and walked and twisted and turned, our doubts loomed. Chatting with him, trying to trust him, as the streets got emptier and narrower and darker, I spoke up and we bailed. We told him we were in a rush and our driver was waiting (true and true) and we turned back, madly snapping pictures along th way, of hard-to-believe winding North African streets, hoping that one of them was right. Better to risk the wrong movie set pic than to get jumped in the bowels of the medina by the "university student" and his friends. Neurotic? Maybe. But, so what?
We got into the car and settled in for the ride that ended up being about two and a half hours. Prior to leaving Kaiouran, he had told us that he could not take us all the way in to Tunis but would find a taxi for us before he left us on the side of the road. Again, the deal was half pay up front so he could get gas; balance upon arrival. The road surface was fine - probably new since Bev and Buz had done the trip on an unpaved road a few years ago.
As we approached Tunis, the driver pulled over about 2km outside of the city and said we had to get out and get into a taxi. He flagged a yellow taxi for us. We paid him and swapped cars for a quick few scavenges before 10 PM deadline. We headed right for the Zitouna mosque which we tried to "visit", but got yelled at in Arabic by a disembodied voice as we tried to advance past the doorway. I stuck my arm in, crooked it around, snapped a pic and retreated quickly. Sleazy, but we got the points. Besides, the camera allowed us to see what we could not have seen with our own eyes.
We walked through the medina, hoping to see the souks, or markets and do a bunch of scavenges. But, it was too late. The last call to prayer had already occurred and the shops were locking down for the night. All that work plotting out the souk route was for naught. We had hoped to visit the fabrics and lamps, have a chichi (hookah) and more. Crossing off much of our remaining checklist as impossible, we did the few remaining ones that time allowed: snap a photo at Bab el Bahr, the old french gate to the city, go to the central market, take a team photo at Bab el Khadra (a double old gate into the old walled city), and buy something to eat at Halfaouine (after much struggle, learned that it is pronounced "half a ween") - we bought a sorry-looking shriveled orange from one of the remaining street vendors. Done whether we were done or not. It was 8 PM and we had two hours until meeting.
We showered (much needed) and walked outside to get a light dinner near the hotel.
We stayed at Hotel l'Afrique, which is on the avenue that looks like a mini Champs Elysee. The evening breeze felt heavenly on my very-appreciated-clean skin. The avenue is lined with Parisian style cafes. We chose one a few doors down from the hotel and ordered familiar, safe and delicious comfort food after a 14 hour day. Alex had a 4-cheese pizza and I had quiche and salad. A little adjustment in this Muslim country is that instead of "jambon" (ham), they use "jambon de dinde fume" (smoked turkey faux ham). My nod to northern African cuisine at dinner was to order the tea, which was quite delicious. It was very sweet, served in a small glass cup the size of a small juice glass, and had a layer of pine nuts floating across the top. It was delicious.
At the meeting, we learned that we had the "day" off tomorrow, in that we will meet again at 11 AM to learn where we go next, and there will be no scavenges all day.
Wahoo! Sleep in! No going to bed with my mind racing about the next day's plans!

Two Days in Tunis

2009-05-03T08:00:00.001-04:00

It was a two and a half hour flight from Istanbul, Turkey to Tunis, Tunisia. All I knew about Tunisia is that French people like to vacation here. It is the northernmost country in Africa and the north coast is on the Mediterranean. Libya is to the east and Algeria is to the west. The southern part of the country is in the Sahara Desert. The country is about the size of Florida. It's a Muslim country and the 2 percent who aren't Muslim are Christian and Jewish. Arabic is the language but many people speak French, and some speak English in the capital city but rarely elsewhere. The weather is in the 70s, sunny - kinda perfect.
After checking in, we had one hour before getting the scavenges. Two thirds into the trip, we have the routine down. Find an ATM. Find a bookstore with English guidebooks and scope out what we want to buy so that when the clock starts, we can come right back, buy the info and hit the ground running. Get something to eat or drink if we need to. Day pack stays packed. (Every night, I replenish water, granola bars, wipes, recharge blackberry and camera).
The Tunis challenges are a bunch of small local run-all-over-the-place like we chose for Istanbul; or big long trips out of town. For Tunis, teaming is allowed for the whole stay - partly in deference to the teams of women. We are teamed with Sherry and Ken. We decided to plan our big outings for the second day and stay pretty local the first afternoon, since we were starting out after 2 PM.
We took a taxi right out to the National Museum of Bardo, a beautiful former palace, and located Eros and Apollo, then to the train for two destinations. First was the absolutely charming town of Sidi Bou Said, a little village of cafes, resaturants and shops. All the buildings are white and trimmed in brilliant blue (think Santorini) with orange trees punctuating the white and blue. Eye candy!!
Back on the train (more like a trolley, but through long stretches of open area). For our second destination, we went to Carthage, where we had two scavenges: locate Byrsa Hill and the Roman Ampitheater; and Tophet site and explain on video what happened. We found a taxi driver who knew absolutely nothing about Carthage (we later realized that he was from Tunis). Although Carthage is the best known of Tunisian archeological sites, the ruins are scattered throughout a residential area. In fact, we had to go in between people's driveways to get to the Tophet Sanctuary. We are not 100 percent sure that we found the right ampitheater on Bursa Hill, but we asked the Carthage museum staff, and people along the way. It was quite suprising that people in Carthage don't know their own ruins. We have an AA Essential Series guidebook and a Lonely Planet in French (they didn't have it in English). Both showed the ruins we sought, with street locations pinpointed; but it was really hard for the taxi driver to find anyone to point them out - including three policemen! When we finally located Tophet, we made a short video explaining it. In what looks like somebody' back yard, wedged between two suburban private homes, the Tophet Sanctuary is a grassy lawn scattered with upright stone cylinders. There are more than 20,000 urns containing the ashes of boys aged between 2 and 12, sacrificed by the Carthiginians in the 8th century BC. The remains were cremated as an offering to the sun god Baal Hammon and Tanit, the moon goddess.
We took a taxi back to Tunis, snapped a quck picture of the exterior of the art nouveau-style National Theater, and went back to the hotel. Fifteen minutes to freshen up and we went right out for dinner to one of the mandatory food scavenges - Dar Bel Hadj in the old city. To get there, you take a taxi to the edge of the medina (walled city) and the restaurant has a golf cart waiting to take you in through the winding streets. It was dark and the market stalls were closed. The driver flew very fast through the narrow winding streets and stopped at a big wooden studded door, which was opened by a beautful woman draped in silk. We were beckoned inside. From the outside, all you see is a big whitewashed wall in the market. You would never know there is a reataurant behind it. It's a beautiful palace and the dining room is in a 4 story atrium with only about 30 seats. We were so excited to walk into this lovely place, be served wine and a lovely plate of appetizers. But, we were full after the apps, didn't want dinner, and when it arrived, nobody liked theirs anyway. We were so tired. We needed to go to bed, so we rushed the check, took the golf cart to the cab, and then to the train station to plan tomorrow. Then, finally! To bed around 10:30 with a 6:10 wake up call requested from the hotel (supplemented by both our blackberries).

I Recommend the Three Massage Package

2009-05-02T15:07:00.000-04:00

The Instanbul scavenge of "Enjoy a traditional public Hammam - not at a hotel" was best at the end of the day, right after jostling through the Covered Bazaar.
Armed with walking directions from the Blue Mosque, on the recommendation of our waiter from lunch, we walked the brief distance to Cagaloglu Hammam. Thinking we were off the beaten path, we were surprised to see displayed a reprint of the cover of Patricia Schultz's book, "1,000 Places to See Before You Die". And it was! Cagaloglu is over 300 years old. Prior patrons purportedly include Franz Liszt, Florence Nightingale and Cameron Diaz.
Alex and I agreed to meet in one hour and fifteen minutes at the fish restaurant around the corner. I said goodbye and went into the Ladies' entrance. I passed through a curtain of beads into a square chamber. A woman at a wooden desk on the right greeted me with a warm smile and good English. She produced a price list of about 4 different pricing options. I chose the Oriental something-or-other because it would take about one hour and included bath and massage as well as use of the changing room and towel rental. It cost 110 Turkish Lire or 55 Euros - neither of which I had enough of. I asked for the closest ATM, got the money and returned in a few moments. I paid for my chosen package and then she asked if I would like to buy my own scrub cloth for them to use for the exfoliating scrub. I interpreted that to mean, "Would you like the used cloth that has somebody else's dead skin, bacteria and other diseases in it, or would you like a new one?". I bought the new one. Ten more lire. She showed me to my "cabin" and handed me a key on a heavy brass pendant. The room was ringed with closet-like rooms, or cabins. Each cabin has hooks to hang clothes, a mirror, small counter below the mirror, a cot/bed, and a hairdryer affixed to the wall. They are trimmed in wood, fitted with frosted glass in the doors below neck level and clear glass above neck level. (Note on neck level: Not for me. The frosty glass ended just above my waist. No privacy for me. And I dried my hair at the end by glancing into the mirror at my elbows moving around). As instructed, I took everything off, hung it in my cabin, tucked my pocketbook (with my credit cards, ATM card, money, blackberry, entire life if it got stolen...) Behind the door and wrapped myself in the tablecoth-looking blue plaid fabric (not a towel), put on the pink plastic clogs and followed her to the intermediate room. The walls and floor were covered with white marble veined in grey. That led to the "hararet", the hot room, which is a quite warm, a bit steamy, and is filled withthe sound of running water. It is a grand, circular room with a high-domed ceiling. All marble, it has a large octagonal raised slab platform in the center where eight women are massaged at a time. The floors are slick with water and soap bubbles. My escort took my hand and led me all the way across the floor to the far side, where the walls were lined with cisterns. Lukewarm water was running constantly, spilling over onto the floor and into the channels which drain it away. She took away my tablecloth and cabin key and motioned to me to sit on the floor. She used a metal pan to scoop water and splash it over me repeatedly. She motioned to me to do that and signaled 5 miutes for her (break time?). I sat and watched. About 25 of us women, all white and naked were scattered about the room, in various stages of the process. The ones who were being bathed and massaged were lying on the outer edge of the slab in the room's center. The masseuses/attendants sit or kneel to do their work. When it was my turn she called to me "Lady", she smiled, and offered me a hand so I don't slip on the floor. She led me to the slab, laid me down with a small flat leather (plastic?) pillow under my head. First she washed me with water from neck down, all over and she had me turn over and do it again. Round two was the exfoliation scrub with my own personal scrubber. She grimaced and showed me the dirt rolls that peeled off of me. I sheepishly said "India" (when we compared notes later, Alex said he had the same thing happen to hin, too). Then she massaged again. Third treatment was the string mop. Well, it looked like a mop head with strings about 2 feet long, except they were made of something spongy. She used a deep bucket of very sudsy water, sloshed it over me and swung the mop around like a car wash. Massage the third and final time. The massages were more like a little shoulder rub and quick foot rub. The main event was the bathing. When it was all finished, she took my hand and placed me at the cistern again. She sat me down and shampooed my hair. Then, she motioned for me to rinse my body and that I am finished. I could have sat and relaxed some more in the steamy room, but I knew Alex would be waiting. I was given a gift - fresh underpants! I dried my hair, put on my gift and dressed to meet Alex around the corner for a beer and comparing stories at the fish restaurant.

May Day in Istanbul

2009-05-02T14:52:00.002-04:00

It is international workers' day and our hotel is steps away from Taksim Square, where there were deadly riots in 1977 on May Day. Workers and unions were planning an event so the authorities were taking precautionary measures and closed the entire area around the square. May Day is particularly sensitive this year because the severe economic downturn has cost many people their jobs. At our breakfast meeting to hand out the scavenges Bill revised the plan by excising two areas that police cordoned off - Taksim Square and two of the boat launch areas. Of course, we had to figure out and plot the scavenges before we would know whether to cross them off.
Actually, Alex and I had seen some serious equipment assembled yesterday in Taksim squre but didn't understand why it was there. A heavy metal temporary fence cordoned off an area packed with shiny black police motorcycles with high windshield guards. Big black ominous machines that looked like earth movers, with cow catchers on the front, and heavily grated windows, with the word "Polisi" (sp?) painted in white. Also, the hotel left a little note on the pillow, notifying us that some road closures were planned (perhaps a delicate euphemism?). Taksim is a major trolley hub, so today's plans were going to require some serious maneuvering. Bill walked us through the diligence he had done on the anticipated demonstration and was comfortable that if we avoided the hot areas we should be fine. I write at the end of the day and we had no inkling of trouble, other than seeing lots of police (some leaning against walls and yawning) and roadblocks. However, at the meeting tonight, we learned that riot police did use tear gas and water guns on demonstrators.
We spent about one hour figuring out the scavenges and plotting out their locations.
We started at the Galata Tower, from which there is a great view of the city and the rivers. (The clue was the Asian tower where the Birdman made his alleged 17th century flight. Legend has it that some guy donned wings, jumped off the tower and flew across the Bosphorus Strait). We walked across the Galata bridge and took the team photo, which we do by either stopping someone and asking them to take it, or by having Alex reach his left arm out and snap us together. Many of our photos, especially the food evidence photos, are taken like this. We show the food going into our mouths, the right side of my face and the left side of Alex's face. This is not a photo safari.
We checked out the boat schedules to Sariyer - wouldn't work for us. We didn't look into the schedules for the bonus point trips to the Prince Islands and other river-access scavenge destinations because they would probably take 4 or 5 hours and we wanted to do some of the scavenges in the city. Later, we heard that the 5 teams who went together to Princes' Islands had a fabulous time and likened it to Capri. Oh well, you can't do everything.
Ditching the boat ride idea, we went into the Spice Bazaar and bought a trinket as required (eyeball keychain for Max). Then, because it was noon and a designated food scavenge, Rumeli Cafe was nearby, we stopped for lunch. The waiter was a willing subject for a 15 second video on International workers' day. He addressed the questions we posed regarding employment benefits (paid medical coverage and 2 weeks unpaid vacation which he will take in Italy, letting his inlaws come visit at a different time while he is working, rather than use his vacation time to travel to quiet Eastern Turkey) and his view on the May Day demonstration (that unions and government workers have it very good but push for more). We also asked him if he had a particular hammam (Turkish bath) to recommend. We wanted to do the bath scavenge and had already gotten a name from one of Alex's friends. Facebook has been amazing for Alex. Because he is posting his trip updates on Facebook, he has met friends in Seattle, Bangkok and Delhi. The waiter looked at the name and said it was very tourisitic, and that he recommended a different bath which he goes to and was near the restaurant. We decided to use the waiter's recommendation and tucked away the directions for later.
We visited Hagia Sofia, which was built as a church in 537 and was used as a church for over 900 years, until it was converted for use as a mosque. The mosaics are beautiful, but very few remain. I am struck that the exact opposite thing happened in Spain, where the mosques were taken over by Christians and converted to churches. Next was to find the Little Hagia Sofia, a quite small mosque tucked in a residential neighborhood. We had been asking people all day what and where it was. We got conflicting answers but a consistent unanimity on the general area where it was. Fortunately, we bumped into fellow travelers Bev and Buz, and Sylvia and Jackie who had just come from there. We swapped information on where Rumeli Cafe, the food scavenge was that we had just finished. We made plans to all meet for dinner at 7:30 to see a whirling dervish to try to satisfy the scavenge of visiting the temple where the Whirling Dervishes perform and catch a performance. We located the temple (near Galata Tower), but it was closed. We were told it probably would not be happening today. Since the Dervish wasn't doing his thing today, we figured we'd try this substitute with the group - besides, it's fun to get together. They also informed us that they had just come from trying to do the scavenges in the Covered Bazaar, but the crowds were so thick you couldn't get in. They were advised by a few shopkeepers to come back around 4 PM when it would be less crowded. Armed with that helpful information, we deferred our plans to visit the Covered Bazaar
and grabbed a cab to do a drive-by photo of a particular aqueduct, and then to Eyup's mosque and tomb. Beautiful spot outside of central Istanbul, with a pedestrian plaza area surrounding the mosque. According to our lame guidebook, the types of people who frequently go to Eyup's tomb to pray are: "the boys to be circumcised' the hopeless patients in search for a remedy, and the sports teams to play national games". There are intensely decorated blue and green tiles marking the entrance to Eyup's tomb, and which were easy to find because a crowd was gathered at the spot. We took off our shoes with the crowd and shuffled into the small (20 x 20 foot?) mosque. Everyone in the brightly colored (but darkened) tile room was standing in the same position: serious-expressioned, facing forward, with arms bent at the elbows like they were holding cafeteria trays except that their hands were cupped open as though about to receive liquid to be poured into them. I felt uncomfortable, like an uninvited voyeur, and even though my body was completely clothed with no skin showing and my head wrapped in a long shawl, I know I stood out as not belonging, by virtue of my height and microfibre quik dry pants. I gently jostled through those praying and slid out the exit. Alex (who doesn't look like much of a reverant Muslim Turk either), was steps behind me.
We went out to the main square to look for a taxi. First, we made a quick stop at the ATM. The ATMs in Istanbul are frequently clustered together in a freestanding kiosk, where three banks' machines are lined up side by side, with an awning to help protect from rain and sun glare. HSBC, Bank Garanti and the other one. All seem to be on Plus, Cirris, Visa, Mastercard. This city is EASY!!
We took a taxi back to the Covered Market. By the way, our taxi rip off rate is about 50 percent. We have succeeded in controlling the fare, it's just that we sometimes end up on longer, indirect routes at higher cost. However, we mostly get around by walking and the city is glorious to walk in.
Kapali Carsi (the Covered Bazaar) is a market on steroids. There are 18 gates into it, 3500 shops, 15,000 tradesmen and 80 streets and roads inside of it. Historically,
It was a shopping and trade center and slave market. At the beginning of the 19th century, people running away from the Russian revolution brought antiques with them. We had 6 scavenges to do inside, plus a mandatory food challenge just outside one of the gates, to find the freestanding counter at Gulluoglu's and try some su borek (a delicious cheese pastry in phyllo that tastes kinda sorta like a savory cheese kugel). The scavenges inside the Covered Bazaar seemed to be designed to get us in the guts of it and engaged in talking with vendors and getting answers. Find the Old Book Market. Have a beverage at Sark Kahvesi. Name three people who have purchased carpets from Sisko Osman (answer: Queen Beatrix of Holland, Harvey Keitel and Christy Turlington - all of whose photos while in the store were on the wall - and maybe Linda Fain too, but I didn't notice her picture). Buy an Iznik blue something of your choice (signed piece from a region of Turkey - we got a small pretty bowl). Find some matrioshka (nesting) dolls from Russia.
Q: Over the entrance is a quote. Who wrote it and what does it say?
A: "God Loves Tradesmen", from Abdulhamid II.
We did all those things including sitting down for having the drink (Turkish coffee for Alex, cold Coke for me), in one hour. Off to the baths!!! I will do a separate blog on that.
After the bath, we went to Cafe Mesale, next to the Blue Mosque, for dinner and dervish. Because it was raining by now, we weren't surprised that nobody else showed up as planned. We wanted to stay anyway. The food was wonderful. Our kind of food. Delicious meze plates of roasted eggplant in olive oil, garlic yogurt, grilled lamb, chicken, vegetables and rice. Yum! The dervish joined the live musicians around 8:30 and we got to see him spin around. The Dervish is a handsome slender man, dressed in a white jacket, a long full white skirt, and a fez. He spins around in place like a top while the music whips into a frenzy. One would think he would stagger over sideways or throw up or fall down - or at least switch direction. I write this in complete ignorance, as we didn't ask the waiter or anyone else, for an explanation and the almost useless guidebook was silent on the subject of whirling dervishes. I suppose that unless I remember to google it when I get home, even though I have seen one and took four pictures of him, I may need to continue using the expression "Whirling Dervish" in ignorance of what it really means.
Back to the hotel by cab via a ridiculous route that plumped up the fare even though we called the driver on it. We got back with time to spare before the meeting.
To Tunis, Tunisia Tomorrow! Ta Ta.

Thrilled in Turkey

2009-05-01T00:33:00.002-04:00

Istanbul is beautiful! The weather is spectcular! The streets are clean! We feel safe! It is such a contrast to India!
But, even if we had not come to Istanbul from Delhi, we would have loved it anyway.
We arrived to the hotel at 11 AM, after a 7 hour night flight from Delhi. The meeting was scheduled for 12:30, giving us an hour and a half to wash up, do "personal management" like laundry, unpack (never), etc. We dumped our stuff and went outside to change money and get some food. The weather is a glorious 60 or so. Some locals walk around in ski jackets but we were wearing t shirts and were comfortable.
The ATM offered three options: Turkish Lire, Euros or US Dollars. We chose Turkish - and not surprisingly, some places accept only lire.
We found a place that serves doner kebaps, a sandwich that Alex got excited about - basically like schwarma that is served in Israel. It's made from beef shaved from a big hunk on a spit. It turned out to be a mandatory food challenge so we had to eat another one later but that was ok.
I made a quick purchase of a light shawl for visiting mosques and for wrapping around my neck in some attempt to look fashionable (a bit of a non sequitor since I am wearing comfortable walking shoes and quick-dry clothes). We finished all that and got to the meeting a few minutes early.
We learned that we will actually stay in the same hotel for two nights. The scavenges in Istanbul will be two separate sets of one day each. Today we went from about 1 PM until the deadline at 10 PM. Alex and I did at least part of all of them except one. We did not get to the Kariye Museum to see the fresco of Jesus yanking Adam and Eve from their coffins.
First stop was to get a map from the hotel. Theirs was particularly awful, with little detail, and no guidebook or magazine to offer. We tried to find a place nearby that sold a guide book or a map but simply could not. We are staying in the Taksim area of the city. We went to two bookstores and there were no guidebooks or English books at all. Absolutely loving walking on a beautiful walking street in the warm but not too warm sun, it took us a while to get our act together. We sat in a cafe for coffee and tried to plot a route using crummy cartoony tourist maps and little information. Few people speak English.
Finally, at 2:15, we logged the first scavenge: walk through the Passage of Flowers. Without spending a lot of time studying all of the scavenges, we decided to head right for the area where Topkapi Palace is located. We took the tunel, the world's shortest and the third oldest subway. It is a 2 minute ride. Very cute. We took a taxi the rest of the way. Having been warned that Istanbul taxi drivers are notoriously conniving, we agreed on a rate in advance and made sure we had the right change. Apparently they almost always pretend they have no change and keep all the money. And worse, if you give them a big bill, they pretend to drop it, pretend to retrieve it, and then show you a smaller bill, insisting that you have made only partial payment. Folks who have been here before all had similar stories and Bill told us that you can expect to pay too much for a taxi in Istanbul, whether by scam or by contract. We chose the contract option - negotiated a probably very high price ($7.50) but we had to get on with it.
Topkapi Palace was the government seat of Istanbul (formerly known as Constantinople) for over 400 years. It is in a fabulously beautiful spot at the convergence of three rivers, and a park-like setting landscaped with trees and flowers. The scavenges led us through the highlights of this beautiful palace: the treasury and the 86 carat Spoonmaker Diamond and the Throne of Ahmed (gorgeous inlaid mother of pearl boxy bench), Mohammed's swords, Moses' staff and the harem. Before entering, we bought an Istanbul city guide in the gift shop (wahoo!) and found it to be terribly organized, poorly indexed(NO index, actually), and, when we finally got to read the damn thing at night, discovered information that we would have loved to have known was in there, but the awful table of contents didn't hint at. From Topkapi, we went the wrong way but corrected ourselves, to the Archeological Museum and found something of
Alexander the Great's - his facial expression - because the original statues of him were destroyed and these were replicas. We couldn't find the world's first peace treaty, even after asking 5 people who work at the museum. No maps or brochures in the museum. Oh well -- move on.
We found the two obelisks - one Egyptian and one "Constantine".
We visited the Blue Mosque, a huge and intricately decorated mosque, and the Mosaic Museum which was down a lane of fantastic stores selling handmade goods. No time to look, though. A compelling reason to return! (Not to mention that we are racing through things we would want to savor).
The underground cistern, built during tje Byzantine period is way cool. It stored water safely and feels eerie and mysterious - and wet and cool. Its 336 columns are bathed in a low golden light. Scenes from James Bond's "To Russia with Love" were filmed here.
We had trouble getting to Suleymaniye Mosque, but "hopped on" a tram - after walking around in a few circles, and figuring out how to buy the token. We probably got off one stop too early, too. Visited the mosque, and our lame guidebook helped us find the name of the wife that is buried there.
Then, to a more obscure mosque - Rustem Pasa Camii, which was built over shops. Across the street, we ate the required rahat lokum, the Turkish Delight candy. Then, to Istanbul University, which was probably the wrong school because we found Istanbul University of Commerce, which is a very small campus. Then to one of two mandatory food challenges - the restaurant Daruzziyafe's and ten extra points for getting into the kitchen. (When we paid the bill, we said we loved the lamb so much that we wanted to see the kitchen. All true anyway). Then, the scavenge of tea and hookah-smoking, and asking a local about their attitude of keyif (which, apparently is "joy", and who could oppose joy?). Off to the final food challenge. Kinda dumb planning, but the challenge was to eat a doner kebap, but we had one just before the scavenge hunt began, so that didn't count. We ate another one. Donered out for the day. We got in a taxi and drove by to snap a picture of the hotel which once used to house passengers embarking on the Orient Hotel. (The answer is the Pera Palace Hotel, and it's under renovation, so we found it and snapped a pic). We were back in the hotel by 9 PM. Handed our sheets in and went to the bar to hang out with some fellow travellers (fun group!). Bill borrowed our camera chip and may be uploading a few of our pictures onto the website for the Global Scavenger Hunt.

Indian Bureaucracy and Swine Flu

2009-04-30T02:35:00.000-04:00

Departing from the Delhi aiport, we went through the usual rigamarole of security - put your electronics and jacket in a bucket and your bag through the x-ray machine. But, at the end of the x-ray, the guard told me I didn't have a hand luggage tag. I showed him my name tag. Nope. Not right. Puzzled, I looked over Alex who was steps ahead of me and he led me to the information booth to pick up a flimsy paper nametag which also had a spot to write the flight number on. The information booth guy was on the phone, head down. Finally he looked up and we asked for the tag (why can't they just put the tags on the counter?), which he pulled out of a drawer and gave to me. I filled it out and hung it on my bag strap. What I didn't realize is that it also had to be hand stamped in purple by someone in security's x-ray area. I got to discover that omission when I was prevented by a security officer from boarding the plane due to lack of a purple stamp on the hand bag that could only have arrived in this area via the x-ray screening area.
A Turkish Airlines hostess told me to come with her and she ran with me, grabbed my bag, returned to the x-ray area and presented my bag to the screener. Alex came with us -- you never know what could happen. The bag was run through x-ray again and then the guard began the longest, most detailed hand check ever. Every little zipper compartment, toiletry bag, cosmetic bag, my lipstick, wallet. He was having a spiteful, slow-moving bureaucratic power play blast. The airline rep, Alex and I stood there calmly like we wanted to do nothing more than watch him rifle through every single one of my belongings. (He only touched the handle, not the bristles of my toothbrush). Finally, I earned the purple stamp (sounds like a scavenge) and she ran back with us to the gate where the plane was already boarded.

I settled into my seat and picked up the newspaper. Front page story on swine flu in the Hindustan Times has a sidebar story on the 24 hour swine flu helpline set up by the Indian government on Monday. The reporter called the swine flu helpline 3 times and printed the transcripts of the calls.
1. Monday 6:30 PM
Q: What is swine flu?
A: Someone told me it is a disease in Mexico. Call tomorrow morning. There's no one here now.
2. Tuesday 2:20 PM
Q: Tell me about swine flu.
A: I want your name and number.
After giving name and number:
Q: Do I need to worry about getting infected?
A: No need to panic. We have no swine flu cases in India.
Q: Then why did the government issue an advisory yesterday?
A: To ask people to quarantine travelers with flu symptoms and call us so we can test them.
Q: Do people have to do the quaranting at home?
A: Of course, I just said that.
Q: What about hospitals?
A: There are no designated hospitals.
Q: Won't you miss cases, if you rely on voluntary reporting?
A: That can't be helped. We can't go searching for patients. They have to call us.

3. Tuesday 6:20 PM
The reporter called the 24 hour swine flu helpline and got a fax tone.

Re-Delhi

2009-04-30T02:32:00.001-04:00

After speaking to Bill the trip organizer at 7 AM, who let us off the hook of having to take the train, we followed his suggestion that if we were going to take a car for the 5 hour drive, we should get going early (and we could do scavenges along the way in the car). The hotel had a car and driver waiting for us (along with a food package we requested) in 30 minutes. I am eternally grateful to the Oberoi Hotel. Their service and effectiveness is the best! Our driver was a lovely Hindu man. We discussed lots of things, including his arranged marriage and his plans for his daughter. One of his two sons is a software engineer.
First stop was in Sikandra, to visit Akhbar's tomb. Akhbar was a Muslim ruler in the mid 1500s who came to power at the age of 13. He expanded his empire to cover most of northern India but was a just ruler. He is best known for his tolerance of other religions. He. eliminated an oppressive tax on Hindus and his many wives included Muslims as well as Hindus and Christians.
Next scavenge was to visit Maryiam's tomb -Chrisitian wife of Akbar.
As we drove, our driver pointed out interesting things along the way, like tidy little huts assembled out of dried dung patty cakes, scattered around the fields. Some of the huts were decorated - in chevron patterns and the like. He showed us wedding cars - where the bride and groom's names are on a paper (taped to the window) and flowers stuck on the cars.
As we got into Delhi, we saw some of our scavenges. It was good to be able to do this because we lost a day. Also, by approaching the hotel in Delhi by car, we got to see New Delhi which is a different planet from the Old Delhi we had seen a few days ago. It is wide, tree lined boulevards, imposing government buildings that evince the feel of Washington DC. One of the scavenges was to identify and photograph the buiding on the 50 rupee note. It was Parliament. Done. Check. Also along the way, we also saw the Bahai Lotus Temple, India Gate (war memorial for the 90,000 Indians who died in WWI (wow!) and other wars. We didn't have time to get to the National Museum, Ghandi's Tomb, or the place he was assinated, and many more, but oh well. Gotta come back. Final stop before having our driver drop us at the hotel, we finished the final mandatory food challenge by choosing the one that said to treat yourself at Bukhara (an Afghan restaurant at a hotel in the Starwood Luxury Collection). Not feeling 100 percent, we treated ourselves to bread (naan) and water. But, we got the receipt and the photo.
Driver waiting outside, we headed back to Shangri-La where we ended up sleeping for 1 of the 4 nights. Expensive luggage locker and shower facility.
Had we felt better, we would have gone out and scavenged some more, but we needed to take care of ourselves. One of the things that I am sorry to have missed was a Slumdog Tour, led by a former street child and sponsored by an organization that feeds and educates street children. Another scavenge which we were not planning to do, but sounded great was to volunteer for 4 hours with any one of 3 charities that help children. That scavenge made sense for people who have been here before. One couple, Bev and Buz, who did that scavenge, have an India trip planned for October, so that was perfect for them and they found it incredibly rewarding, in that they got to teach English in a well-organized situation.
Our meeting was at 6 PM but it was only 3 PM, so we went to the hotel business center (open 24 hours WITH a tech concierge who helped me upload to Shutterfly my 800 pictures I have taken so far, in case my camera gets stolen. Then, shower, hand wash those fantastic quik dry clothes, and a nap.
At our meeting, we learned that our flight out of Delhi is at 4:45 AM and we need to be in the lobby at 1:45 AM.
Next stop: Istanbul! And we get to leave the Indian heat. Apparently, the temp in Istanbul is 60-ish.

Taj Mahal in the Heat

2009-04-29T18:31:00.000-04:00

Our coach bus for the 4 - 5 hour ride from Jaipur to Agra was an 18 seater. We rode in comfort and got to spread out a bit. The Oberoi packed us breakfast boxes for our journey. Mmmm...
Along the way I saw what we think was the answer to a scavenge:
Q: What type of animal is used for the amusement of travelers? A: Monkey on a stick. At the office where we pulled over for the driver to pay the toll that must be paid between states, I saw out the window an old gnarnly man who held a stick upright which was grasped by a monkey on a chain. The man smiled at me.
As we had requested, the bus dropped us at the Oberoi Hotel. Sherry had stayed there recently and knew it to be the closest you can get to the Taj. There is nothing obstructing the hotel's view of the Taj Mahal. Every guest room faces the Taj. The hotel provides golf carts to take guests to the Taj. We were driven over in an EZ-Go golf cart and got to the point where vehicles cannot proceed. Our driver led us to the ticket window, down the alley of street vendors. We were scavenging with Sherry (who had been to the Taj Mahal) and Ken (who had not). She had given us a heads up that the drama of seeing the Taj is seeing it from the outside. Inside, there is very little to see, as it's a tomb and there is very little space to enter inside.
It was so incredibly hot. The heat was relentless. We had drinking water with us (which I kept pouring on my head and down my shirt for a moment of relief before it dried ina few seconds). All I wanted to do was take the picture and get out of there.
On the way down the souvenir lane, we did the quick scavenge of buying a piece of pietra dura (inlaid stone). I only wanted to get back to the Oberoi to escape the heat. Besides, one of the mandatory food options was to have lunch at the Oberoi.
We walked right in to the lovely, air conditioned restaurant, sat down, and Alex said he needed some bread or something - that he needed to eat. Then he started to faint. I pushed his head between his legs and dumped water on his head and down his back. Ken called to the hostess and the restaurant staff whipped up their electrolyte concoction of water, honey, salt and lemon. Ken snapped a photo of the chef-hatted chef leaning over Alex, working on him. That photo would have been a great souvenir to have, but Ken's camera was stolen moments later.
Alex revived and ordered lunch. We also put in an order for gnocchi to cover a mandatory food scavenge (in honor of National Gnocchi Day in Uruguay).
After lunch, we got into the car we had rented to share with Sherry and Ken and headed across the bridge to do two scavenges across the river from the Taj - one of which involved viewing the Taj from the other side of the river
First was the Baby Taj. The car's air conditioner wasn't working well and we had about 4 hours of touring lined up in the area around Agra. At our request, the driver called for a replacement car.
I looked over at Alex, who was leaning his head against the window, not looking great. I told him to keep drinking water. I suggested to Alex a Plan B - that we abort the trip, leave Sherry and Ken with the replacement car, and we return to the Oberoi in this car. We could rent a day room to sleep in AC for about 4 hours until time to leave for our 8:30 PM train back to Delhi. While waiting for the replacement car, we called the Oberoi to book it and check in over the phone so we could go right to a room.
Arriving back at the Oberoi about 10 minutes later, the hotel's wonderful staff greeted us, placing umbrellas over our heads for shade, and led us across the palace courtyard to the lobby entrance.
They asked me to have a seat while they get someone to take us to our room. Alex headed over to the sofa. While I sat at the check-in area (happy to be seated; as the heat made me dizzy), I glanced over my shoulder at Alex. He was leaning over a very large pool of vomit, and was continuing to vomit.
I went over to him at the same time that the hotel staff rushed over. The hostess pointed the way to the bathroom. Maternal instincts in gear, I snapped, "No! Let him finish and then take us to our room".
The bellman who led us to our room waited while Alex took a shower, handed him a bathrobe, and took his vomity clothes to the laundry with the promise to return them clean in 3 hours.
Room service brought liter bottles of water and packets of World Health Organization electrolyte replacement mixture measured for a 1 liter bottle. (We were probably not the only guests to ever suffer from the heat).
My turn. Once he was tucked in bed, I got sick. We set the alarm for 7 PM, asked for a wake up call and went to sleep
At 7, when neither of us could stand up without feeling woozy, we decided that it would be really stupid to try to maneuver an Indian train station in this state.
Before going to sleep, we had called the front desk to ask to extend for the full night and explained that we also needed help figuring out how to get back to Delhi. We had to be in Delhi by 6:00 PM but the only daily fast train (the one we were too ill to take) departed at 8:30 PM - getting us back to Delhi too late.
Moments later, a guest services representative and the hotel concierge came to the room to help us with our travel plans. That was a first! Lie in bed, head on the pillow while two in staff help you map out your options. There was an 11 AM, slower train, but it breaks down a lot and might not get us back in time, and the ticket office was closed so they couldn't check availability although it was likely sold out; or we could have a driver for the 5 hour car ride. We decided to wait until morning to find out about the train option.
Silver lining -- waking up at dawn with the Taj Mahal outside the window like it's there for nobody but us. Just amazing.
At 6 AM I emailed Bill to ask for some guidance. The rules required a train for this leg, but we were now at risk of missing our deadline. He called and was very kind - saying that we should do whatever is safe and comfortable, and don't worry about the points.
We had also called Larry at night for a sanity check that we were doing the right things. He was reassuring and calming, as always. In the morning when we awoke, we called again so that we don't have a perfect record of calling only for medical consults.

Just Walking Around Jaipur

2009-04-29T07:21:00.000-04:00

Had some trouble getting into my blogger account because the language had somehow been automatically reset to Arabic and wasn't recognizing my user name and password.

Anyway, out the door at 5 AM to get to the Delhi train station for a 6 AM train. Hassles with the taxis. We insisted (as we learned the hard way) that the driver turn on the meter, and we had one foot out the door if he refused. Although a clear meter price, he tried to insist on quadrupling it when we arrived at the train station. He said (heard it before) "Then pay me nothing. It's free". As has become our solution, we throw the proper amount on the seat and leave.
In the train station, we deflected the men in fake uniforms who offer to check your reservation so they can tell you that you have the wrong ticket and can buy the right one from them.
For "breakfast" we bought a coke and a 7 Up. We were warned that you can't trust the bottled water unless it's in a good hotel or reataurant because not only do people refill used water bottles with tap water (really bad) but enterprises have cap sealing machines to make them look new. Don't know if it's true or not but enough suspicion to make me stay away.
Our group of 10 assembled and found our platform in the crowded train station. Because of the early hour, the air temperature was OK. Later in the day, it got to about 115 and was pretty much intolerable.
The train, although not looking particularly clean or well maintained, was quite pleasant. Reclining seats, meal service (!) With delicious vegy food and multiple pots of tea and bottled water. Quite pleasant ride of over 4 hours. When you make a train reservation, they ask name, age, sex and veg or non-veg - their words, not mine.
When we arrived in Jaipur about four and a half hours later, we went right to the tourist office at the train station. From a local who Alex chatted with on the train, we learned what to expect for the going rate for hiring a car for the day (Although the scavenger hunt rules usually don't allow hiring a car and driver, it is permitted in Jaipur and in Agra). Sherry was negotiating with the tourist office, which wanted four times what we understood the going rate to be. Alex and I went out front to see about getting a taxi and were swarmed. We struck a price deal (after dismissing the claim that rickshaw is better because of open air. We insisted on a car with AC because we had distances to travel) and the guy said to follow him to the car. We said "No, bring the car to us". "Well...it's on its way; it's just getting gas". Excuses. Lies. We ended up choosing the quadrple price option and got a quite decent AC car with a driver who spoke a little English.
First scavenge we chose was to go to the post office and mail a postcard back to the Santa Monica office of the Global Scavenger Hunt and buy an extra stamp to put in the scavenge proof book where we log our timeline and gluestick in all the ticket stubs for proof. Many of the scavenges require a team photo at the place so teams aren't tempted to split up and get more done.
While I waited for Alex to buy the stamps and postcards I looked at the other two rooms in the post office. Wow. About 6 older men wearing wrinkly dull clothes were hunched over, sitting at a long table, presumably sorting mail. There were tall piles of mail balanced haphazardly on the table. The wall was painted dull yellow - possibly 100 years ago. Oppressive heat made it feel like - why would anybody be able to work? Not the best conditions for getting anything done.
And, it looked like some of that mail might have been sitting there for a long time. Next stop was the old city where a bunch of scavenges were close to each other. We had bought a Lonely Planet ("LP") guide at the Delhi train station. We used the mapped-out walking tour of the old city, as I had wrongly assumed that the car couldn't go in and we would have to have the driver wait for us outside while we did the tour that LP said would take one hour. Really stupid move. (1) The tour covered much more ground than we needed to. (2) It took much more than one hour. (3) Our car could have come into the old city and parked right outside the entrance of several of the attractions we needed to go to. In fact, we bumped into Jackie and Sylvia at Jantar Mantar and their driver with AC car was waiting right outside. Oh well It looks like a sculpture garden but is equipment for measuring - sundials, zodiac, etc.
Next was City Palace, which is a dominant building in the old city but we just couldn't find the entrance. Dead ends, locked gates, etc. One scavenge was to find something from the Guiness Book of Records in the palace. (One of our travelers is in the book twice, but that wouldn't help). The largest silver vessels in the world are there in the Hall of Private Audiences, but weren't there.
Then, to Palace of the Winds (Hawa Mahal), which is really neat. Lacy honeycombed screens are carved of sandstone and hid women so they could watch what was happening on the street but preserve their modesty without being seen. Next was to have a drink and enjoy the view on a rooftop across the street from Hawa Mahal. Problem was - there are no cafes. All of the second floors are occupied by jewelry sellers and they invite you up for the view so you can see (and buy). Thus, we bumped into completing another scavenge - finding a local stone cutter and seller. Finished with the scavenges in old city, we needed to rejoin our overpaid driver who we were paying to sit while we trudged in the heat. We decided to take a rickshaw back to the gate where we left the driver. Negotiated the price in advance, enjoyed sitting down with an awning over our heads, and the slight breeze of movement. Then the rickshaw stopped in front of a shop in the bazaar. A man strolled out and waved to invite us in to look at his wares. NOT AGAIN!! We told the rickshaw driver to take us to the gate or we woulld pay him nothing. This is getting tedious already. He turned the rickshaw around and took us back in the direction of the gate where our driver was waiting but he stopped at Ajmer Gate - one gate short. We told him to keep going but he refused. Alex gave him a few rupees and we hoofed it back to meet our driver.
We drove out of Jaipur to visit the Gator, a royal tomb; and then up to Jaigarh, a watch tower way up in the hills - an incredibly refreshing contrast. It looks over the city of Amber (known as the Pink City and which we didn't have time for, thanks to my bad planning this AM - and which required our third elephant ride in a week - enough already!) We didn't go into Amber, but we saw it from afar, up on the hill with trees creating a little relief from the heat. The scavenge was to climb the watchtower, but it couldn't be climbed. It was old and crumbly and a guard appeared motioning us away. Last scavenge for the day was the Sun God Temple at Galta, also known as Monkey Temple. We drove to the bottom of a valley and down a dusty road with cattle and monkeys lolling along the sides. It was so hot and the place looked like an oven with hardly anyone around and shimmering in the heat. We got out and found a religious looking guy and asked him the question for the scavenge - "What is below the temple?" As we understood it, the answer was "holy water" - but honestly I can't imagine there is water anywhere.
(One of the scavenges we didn't do was to visit a deserted city, Fatehpur Sikri, deserted due to lack of water supply). As we drove along the road, I had noticed a woman by herself out in the hot hot hot sun, kneeling and trying to work a dusty field. Her work looked so futile.
Having finished as many scavenges as we were going to finish in Jaipur, we headed to the hotel we arranged for the night - the Oberoi Japiur. A former palace, it is gorgeous and the service is exquisite. Upon arrival we were handed a homemade ginger drink with lemon. The staff are so helpful and polite. It felt so good to arrive. I headed right to the pool in the palace garden where peacocks roam. Everyone strolled in around the same time, took chairs under umbrellas, ordered lots to drink to rehydrate. I had one liter of water and a diet coke.
The 10 of us who had travelled together had dinner in the palace dining room. It was glorious.
We had arranged for a bus to pick us at 6 AM to take us on the 4 or so hour trip to Agra, where the Taj Mahal is located.

Millions of Pictures in Delhi

2009-04-28T20:45:00.000-04:00

In the airplane, as we started our descent into Delhi, there was an announcement that photos are not permitted from the air. Curious.....

India is intense. It is very hot, the poverty is wrenching - and we are keeping a grueling schedule - but loving it.
We arrived at the hotel in Delhi around noon and met at 2 PM meeting to receive the list of scavenges. We learned that although we checked into the Delhi hotel for 4 nights, we actually were not going to be staying there very much. We had to figure out how to get ourselves to Jaipur and Agra; and further, we must go by train one way for each of those legs. In other words, we had to plan to bolt pretty much right away. We teamed up with 4 other groups and mapped out what we had to do. It took us about 3 hours to work the train schedules and figure out how much time was needed for travel and to do the scavenges. Having established that we need a 4:45 wake up call to leave to catch a 6AM train (and having started the day with a 4:45 wake up call), Alex and I set out for old Delhi to do a few quick scavenges, have dinner and go to bed. Some of the others went out for a mandatory food scavenge in a restaurant in New Delhi, near the hotel. Alex and I got in a taxi at the hotel and were told that the taxi could not take us all the way in to the old city but he would help us get into a rickshaw which could. We had to take a rickshaw because the streets are small and crowded to a level of intensity that the word "crowded" can't begin to describe. The area around the Red Fort and the mosque were teeming with crowds, filth, mopeds and street life. Although we were seated in a rickshaw (the kind that's powered by pedalling a bike; NOT the kind which is motorized and parially enclosed). Ours was the real deal. The seat was filthy, cracked, slanting forward making you slide off it so you have to keep pushing yourself back into the seat, but there wasn't much of anything to hold on to. The crowds of people, motorcycles and mopeds and animals - cows, dogs, etc. - make the rickshaw ride very slow. When it stops, people come and beg. They touched me, pushed their babies into my face, put their open hands right in front of me, gently tugged my clothing, looked at me with deep mournful eyes. The sun was low and the light fading, so the images were stunning. I snapped a rapid-fire stream of digital photos and mental pictures. People laying on the street side sleeping in filth, an old man standing with one healthy leg and the other twisted and shriveled as he balances himself with a stick, an old wooden pushcart piled with bags of flour slowly rolling along the street, moped drivers honking furiously and weaving in and out of the congestion, some women (probably Muslim) with their heads and bodies covered in black flowing fabrics and others in saris of breathtakingly beautiful intensely colored saris that look clean and pristine - some with beautiful sparkles, a wrinkled stooped old man with a long beard and a white cloth swaddling his legs like a diaper, storefronts like a bazaar lining the streets - selling dusty wares, meager packaged foods, tires, street food, twisted junk metal; and a cow grazing in a pile of trash about 2 feet high. So much chaos, so fast. When the rickshaw driver found an opening, he we lurched forward and we jostled and tried to hang on.
We arrived at the Jama Masjid mosque, the largest in India, and we communicated to the rickshaw driver by a few words and hand signals that we were getting out to take a quick look. Even though I had dressed to enter a mosque (long sleeves and long pants - in this heat!), a guy standing at the entrance wagged his finger, shook his head and grunted negatively at me. He produced a big cloth with velcro closures like a barber's apron and wrapped it around me. He also pointed to our cameras and an official looking sign with prices - apparently the cost for entrance and the right to talke pictures. We paid (later learned that there is no fee to enter - scam artists stand in front of the entrance, block your way, and extract fees from unsuspecting tourists - a disadvantage flowing from the rule that you can't get guidebooks until the leg starts; it was Sunday; and the hotel didn't have a shop that sells guidebooks). We entered a large courtyard with a sense of serenity. People milled quietly and the glowing fading sunlight made for a lovely scene. Back to the waiting rickshaw, to the big Red Fort which dominates Old Delhi. We quickly did the scavenges and the waiting rickshaw took us back to the spot where our taxi was waiting to take us to the restaurant so we could do a mandatory food scavenge, eat something and go to bed. We had chosen Karim's in Old Delhi. The driver said he could take us close and we could walk the rest of the way. Very slow going - this time in an AC cab, until he could go no further and pointed down the alley where we spotted a nice electric sign with the restaurant name. It was in a courtyard and was pleasant, tasty and cheap. As we finished eating, I had that feeling you have when you are inside during a torrential downpour and you know you must go out but you just hate to get started. By now it was pitch black.
Knowing this might go nowhere but worth a try, Alex asked the waiter if the restaurant could call a taxi to meet us. Answer: "No". But, we found, as happens to us constantly, by asking in English for help, an English-speaker within earshot approached to offer his help. He is a 20-ish year old Indian, having just finished his dinner with a friend from college. They were planning to attend the sound and light show in the Red Fort that was scheduled to start in about 15 minutes. He offered to walk us out to a point where we could find a taxi. As we walked, beggers swarmed. Interestingly (he even commented to us), they bothered him and his friend even more than us. In between ducking darting mopeds, we chatted. He is an engineer, recently started as and analyst for the India office of a private equity firm in NY, and used to work for Microsoft. Having led us to a street where we could find a taxi, we parted ways.
A quick taxi ride back to the hotel, and to bed for another early day. Before turning in, we had to pack for an overnight - but take very little stuff, to allow us to maneuver the Delhi train station and a long, full day of sightseeing. Challenging, but possible. PLUS, because of the rugged travel conditions, we had to think through including essential things like hand wipes, kleenex (no toilet paper in any public bathrooms), chargers and adapters...all in a light day pack. But, we did it and crashed for the night.

Ayutthaya and Birthday Pizza at Cooking Class

2009-04-26T01:10:00.000-04:00

It is 5 AM and we are in a taxi to Bangkok airport for a flight to Delhi. We were informed last night around 9:30 that we have a 7:30 AM flight. Bill said (jokingly?) that he tried to find a hotter city than Bangkok and there was only one - Delhi - and we are going there.
Yesterday, we went to Ayutthaya, a city 85 km outside of Bangkok, where a large area is designated a Unesco World Heritage Site with some ruins and temples scattered about. Ayutthaya was the Thai capital city 417 years ago. We found it to be OK, not fab.
In order to get credit for the scavenges in Ayutthaya, we were required to take the train at least one way. We took it back in the afternoon. Think Slum Dog Millionaire. We stood in the aisle for almost 2 hours and were constantly jostled by food sellers carrying plastic bags of bottled drinks and leafy produce. No AC of course and the windows were partially covered by those heavy metal corrugated sheets that look like the top of a broiling pan. The ride was $1. Our friends Bev and Buz took an express (timing didn't work for us) for $8 for two, with AC, reclining seats and a quicker ride. But I had the special experience of getting disrupted every 5 or 10 minutes by a vendor and had to elongate and mash myself either against a seated person's head or the seat frame.
We travelled to Ayutthaya by comfortable AC taxi that was about $30 and took a bit less time. Not to pass a day without a tuk tuk scam, our delightful English-speaking taxi driver suggested that we start our day there with an elephant ride before it got too hot. Since that was a scavenge anyway, it made sense. But we asked him to stop at the tourist information office first so we could get maps and guidebooks. He tried to discourage us. Scam coming and we didn't spot it. He took us to the elephant ride area (correct destination) and after we paid him, he led Alex to the ticket window, showed his face and left. Alex asked for the price list. Nothing posted. The ticket lady produced a paper with a price - which we later surmised was the highest price to charge unsuspecting tourists brought in by tuk tuks. Having already ridden an elephant within the last 2 days, the thrill was cranked down a notch and we were mindful of the 20 minute investment. But we enjoyed the lumbering tour around Wat Phra Si Sanphet, ruins of an important monastery on the palace grounds. We visited a wat - Phra Longkhin Bophit which we thought was a scavenge but wasn't. Realizing that distances are much longer than they appear on the map, we hailed a tuk tuk on the road to take us to the large reclining Buddah which is outdoors. We had to have photos of both the Ayutthaya and Bangkok recliners and say which is longer (Bangkok by a few meters). We then showed the tuk tuk driver the photo and Thai words for the Queen Suryothi monument. He nodded and took us to a different one - King Naresuan the Great. As we approached the King's monument, we delighted in the giant brightly colored fake roosters lined up for some special event that was being set up - like soldiers in front of the monument. Never discovered what that was about, but when we turned our attention to the actual monument, it was clear that it was a weapon-wearing warrior, not a queen. Pressing the tuk tuk driver, he took us to the right place and we saw the queen's monument. To comply with the rule that limits the number of scavenges you can take with a single driver, we had him return us to the railway station. We did a mandatory food challenge across the street - buy safe street food. We bought a plastic bag of fried banana chips and a bag of candied mango strips that looked like gummy worms, coated in sugar and hot chili pepper. Both were scrumptious (and were our lunch). Back across the street to buy our train tickets now that it was 20 minutes before departure time, as the ticket seller had told us earlier that was the maximum advance purchase time. However, there was now a handwritten posting that the train was rescheduled for about a half hour later. Time for another scavenge! We hired a woman tuk tuk driver to take us to Wat Maha That to see Buddah's head emerging out of the ground and entangled in tree roots. To take a photo of yourself with Buddah's head, out of respect, you must not be higher than his head which means you have to sidle up and squat on the ground next to him. As we rode the tuk tuk back to the train station we debated adding one more scavenge and asked the driver to u-turn; we rethought it and decided we were cutting it too close on the train and asked her to u-u-turn, now in a 360 tuk tuk ride. We had time at the station to get into the line that had formed to buy tickets. Vindicating the decision not to cut it to the wire.
After getting off the train, we did two more scavenges near the train station. We took the sky train to Jim Thompson's house - which we had figured out was the house of the "legendary American spy" and then to the jewelry market to get price quotes for jade, rubies, sapphire and amethyst.
We rushed to catch the 4 PM cooking lesson which was being given at the hotel. The hotel's cooking school is right next to the spa and because we arrived 15 minutes early, we asked at the spa if we could take a shower. Only one room was available for us to share. Fine with us. We could cover our eyes, turn our backs, whatever, but we really wanted showers. "Room"?? It was more like an apartment - and bigger than some in Manhattan. You enter a foyer, turn into a sitting area with sofa, TV, music center and grooming area. There is another, separate "wet room" which has a large bed/massage table (?) in the middle and a wall shower, large bathtub, another door I never opened, that probably was a steam room or sauna. The final room was a toilet with a sink and vanity outfitted with all kinds of grooming stuff, including a hairbrush and mouthwash. We each got 7.5 minutes in the shower and came out of our "room" completely clean and refreshed (except that we had to put our filthy clothes back on).
Cooking school was fabulous. Sherry, one of our group of 20 organized our private class from 4 to 7 PM and 16 of us did it. It would work perfectly because 9 PM was the deadline to end the Thailand hunt. That allowed us one hour after school for our last mandatory food scavenge. The only one we would have time for was to try some Italian food. I had found that there was a pizza place nearby and we could bite a slice and snap a photo right after cooking school. Problem was, the class was running over and that after the instruction part, they were going to serve us a dinner. It was becoming obvious that if we didn't get the mandatory food challenge in, we would lose all of the points we had earned in Thailand. We hated to walk out on the class to get a stupid pizza, so I slipped out for a moment and asked the concierge to call the pizza place and have a pie delivered to us at the cooking school. In the meantime, it turned out some of our fellow travelers were in similar straits because they were also short a food scavenge or were on shaky grounds interpreting the ones they had done. BUT, how to finesse the incredibly rude act of having a pizza delivered in the middle of a serious cooking class? Soooo ugly American. At a moment when we were changing cooking stations, I conspired with the chef that we had a birthday in our group and were having something delivered in a few moments. When the pizza came, chef produced a birthday candle, lit it and we delivered it to (another) Barbara and all sang happy birthday. Check! Mandatories completed. The lesson was so well done. Chef's English was perfect. He made 4 items and for each item, the sequence was: he demonstrated, then we tasted, then we made it. After the 4 rounds, we ate a full dinner of what we all had made. The menu was: Thai Beef Soup, Golden Pouches with Vegetarian Stuffing (aka fried dumpings), Curried Fish Mousse with Seafood and Mock Ark Shells in Coconut Sauce.
Great day!!

Bedazzled in Bangkok

2009-04-25T12:32:00.002-04:00

At about 2 PM, we finally were able to set out for the top sights we had intended - prebamboozlement. Wat Po, giant golden reclining Buddah. The thing is housed in a dark shelter and is breathtakingly shiny and huge. We complied with the mandatory shoe removal to enter, but carried our shoes with us, instead of putting them in the cubbies ouside, from which people's shoes have been known to disappear. Alex noticed an interesting ritual in the temple. The wall was lined with a long row of 100 or so black bowls the size of soup tureens, into which people were dropping coins - perhaps offerings - and making an echoing "clink'" sound. It was quite simple and beautiful. We never figured out what it was.
Next we took a tuk tuk (carefully negotiated in advance) to the Grand Palace and the Temple of the Emerald Buddah. Wow. Wow. And Wow. The structures in the complex are encrusted with shiny mosaic tiles of gold and metallic sheen, looking like humungous gemstones, jewels sparkling in the sun. We snapped lots of photos, and Alex hammed it up for the camera. We found people lining up imitating his poses for their own photos. I am sure he is not the first person to strike those poses but it was funny to see Germans, Japanese, Brits, all doing the same thing.
We took a tuk tuk to the National Museum to look for, among other things, an explanation of two rooms (which we never found and are not on the floor plan map).
We took a ferry to Wat Arun, the Temple of Dawn, complicated because it was across the river and required different boats to cross and to transport down river. Scavenge was to climb the tall skinny-stepped tower and snap a pic. Always looking to get in some cardio, we enjoyed the scenic and spiritual stairmaster. Looking down and across the city was lovely!! Took two boats - across and down river to get back to the hotel. We had 20 minutes to shower. We were completely drenched and have been drinking north of 2 liters each to keep up with the heat. It is over 100 but I don't know exactly. Around 3 PM, someone noted that it was 103.
Alex made plans to meet his friend Pote for dinner. Pote lives in Bangkok but went to college with Alex. Alex had asked Pote to choose from a list of about 7 restaurants for our mandatory food scavenge. Pote only knew one of them (Cabbages and Condoms), so we made plans to meet him for dinner. After very quick, very essential and extremely enjoyable showers, we took a water taxi to the sky train station. Taking advantage of the hotel's launch service, we rode in comfort for the short ride to the sky train stop. The sky train is an above-ground subway that relieves serious traffic congestion in a very crowded city. The cars are pristine, have flat screen TVs showing ads, and digital displays of upcoming station information. We changed trains at Siam (the former name of Thailand, and the only intersection between the two sky train lines). Pote told Alex that we should meet him in a mall, at the Nautica store. Amazing how interchangeable malls are. He was waiting for us and we walked together to the mall garage to get his car. He drove us to the restaurant Cabbages and Condoms. The place is festooned with all kinds of things fashioned out of condoms -- decorations on the light fixtures, and mannequins outfitted in clothes made from condoms that reminded me of RISD Fashion Show projects. The restaurant concept is to promote understanding and acceptance of family planning and raise funds for a related organization. Thai food - and it was very good. Pote ordered for all of us: chicken satay, gai hor bai toey (excuse the spelling but it is chicken wrapped in a Pandan leaf), white rice, red jasmine rice (more nutritious than white rice and resembles brown rice except it's red), kao glong (no recollection what it was) and Thai green curry - with vegys and cocoanut milk. Interesting conversation! His family business involves commodities. He was sent to the US for a New England boarding school education and college and he is going back to the US for graduate work. His Thai friends went to US, Australia, Singapore for their educations.
His tip on street food: fried in oil is fine, but go for the clearest oil you can find. We talked about the recent riots, what led up to them, etc. Then, looking at the list of scavenges we hadn't done yet, we asked him about how to find someone to price a "nasty" and he told us, but ultimately Alex preferred not to do that scavenge. Certainly I was not going to do it. Mapped out the next day and went to bed.

Bangkok Begins with a Scam

2009-04-25T02:00:00.001-04:00

9 AM meeting, got the scavenge books and we're off. Except for us and one other team (Trevor and Alex from Seattle), we were the only ones who had never been to Bangkok. It seemed that everyone else was planning day trips outside of the city. We teamed up with Trevor and Alex (T and A - not the Chorus Line reference, just easier to type). We wanted to plan our day to make sure that we saw the top sights instead of running around like crazy people just collecting points. We got the map and free guide book from the hotel concierge as permitted, and sat down in the lobby with them spread out to make the plan. First destination: Wat Po, the giant golden reclining Buddah followed by the Palace and the Emerald Buddah. We went by boat because city streets are choked with traffic and this is a weekday morning. Boat ride on public ferry was quite interesting, darting between barges and joined by saffron-swathed young monks sipping Cokes. On the way, T and A suggested stopping to do the "either/or" flower market or "talad" (never figured out what that was) near the Memorial Bridge. It took a while because our false start hunting for durian and rakam in the talad failed. But we sure did find the Flower Market, which is street stalls under cloth awnings where vendors sell cut flowers and where they string jasmine petals into wrist bracelet size loops, sometimes with other flowers woven in. Intense perfumed air, beautiful stroll. Checked that off.
Heading directly to Wat Po, we started on foot with our maps out, and a friendly English-speaking guy approached us and asked what we were looking for. We told him "Wat Po" and a few other sites. He told us they are all closed this morning (it was now 11 AM) because of a special ceremony and we should wait until 1 PM when they open. In the meantime, he suggested we see the Smiling Buddah and the Expo Center, which we somehow associated with the spraying water for New Year's celebration. We got whipped up about getting wet (very hot already). He turned to his waiting friends, the tuk tuk drivers and for 40 Baht each tuk tuk, they would wait for tour visits and drive us back to Wat Po. We should have smelled a rat when he pointed out the Smiling Buddah on my map by having to draw it himself. The Smiling Buddah was some lame dirty storefront. We quickly jumped back in the tuk tuk and went to the "Expo Center" which was a shop in an alley that sells jewelry to tourists. Brilliantly deducing that this was a hijack to the tourist scamatorium, we demanded to be taken to Wat Po. He said "please", all we had to do was go into the shop and he could get paid by his sponsor. Literally sticking one foot in the door and spinning out again, we jumped back into the tuk tuks and made it clear - Wat Po or you get no pay. He drove us to Wat Po and dropped us outside the wall around the corner from the entrance. We paid him 20 Baht, half of the agreed price. A kind English-speaking man approached and asked if we were looking for Wat Po. Yes. He pointed to the sign showing that the entrance was around the corner and said that there was a special ceremony and it was closed until 1 PM. Would we like to take a tuk tuk ride to another temple and be back by 1 PM? Nope, we were on to that. And OK, feeling a little better about having been duped before, at least it appeared that the 1 PM delayed opening time info was accurate. We chose 2 scavenges to do in the meantime: the Giant Swing and the Elephant Museum at Dusit Palace. Swing was simple. Finding the Ducit Palace complex was easy but nobody knew anything about an elephant museum. We settled on the elephant pavilion at the Ducit Zoo, with some big information boards about elephants. At that point it was almost 1 PM when our intended main attractions were to open. We parted ways with T and A because we had reached the maximum that 2 teams could do together in a day. Squeezed in the mandatory food challenge at the Deck Restaurant, right on the river with a beautiful view. Sat next to a couple from Buffalo that just moved their boat to Goat Island in Newport. Steps away was Wat Po, the giant golden reclining Buddah. There we learned that it and all of the major tourist attractions had been open since 8. No ceremony baloney. We realized we were duped twice on the same subject in one morning! (Later, I noticed the warning in the guidebook: "Beware! Bangkok has its share of brilliantly choreographed and well-practiced street scams, often active in the area around the Grand Palace. Typically these involve being 'befriended' by a seemingly straight-up local, and with true sophistication they often result in travellers not reaching their intended destination, but instead visiting an alternative temple and eventually a jewellry outlet. The bottom line is, if anyone, no matter how official they may appear (and this includes uniformed guards!), tells you that the Palace or Wat Po, for example, is closed, you are likely being set up". Yep! Twice! We were textbook.

Eight Temples in Five Hours

2009-04-24T10:14:00.000-04:00

The 4:45 wake up call was a little bad. Out the door around 5 with our partners for the day, Bart and Steve, the "Beach Boys" team from Southern California. Great guys! We shared a car to take us to Angkor, which is the park where over 100 ancient temples are located. It's about a 20 minute drive from Siem Reap. The rush is to be there before sunrise so you can see the sun come up over Angkor Wat. ("Wat" means "Temple"). At the entrance gate, we had to get passes which included a digital photo which the ticket office made.
The sun came up and reflected on the lake, where a donkey stood, along with at least a few hundred tourists, cameras poised, like we all waited for a show to begin. The temple is massive and takes your breath away when it first comes into view. There is an intensely detailed bas relief (mural carved into the stone) which is called the story wall. We learned that Angkor Wat was built to honor the Hindu God Vishnu and that the other major temple, Angkor Thom was also Hindu but has been converted to a Buddhist temple now that Cambodia is a Buddhist country. Next we visited Phnom Bakheng, the oldest temple and it is at the top of a hill that is quite a hike. It was just after dawn but already getting steamy for a hike. Did it and got back in the car to head for Angkor Thom.
A word about cars: there are no metered taxis. Either you get a car and driver or you ride in a tuk-tuk. What a fun thing! It's an open air surrey pulled by a moped. The breeze feels so good as you drive along - and you are right there on the street. Did I mention it is really hot?
Another word - about money. In addition to accepting payment in local currency, everyone accepts dollars and gives change in dollars. AND, when we went to the Cambodian Royal Bank ATM and chose English language, the screen offered withdrawal amounts in multilples of $20 - how nice to calculate currency conversion for us. More surprisingly, the withdrawal was actually delivered in US dollars!
Angkor Thom's entrance is a tree-lined shady approach which you can travel to by elephant - so we did. A bit rolly like a rough day on the ocean. At the temple we achieved the scavenge of taking a photo with 2 willing monks because there was a monastery there. Surprise for me. It looked like summer camp bunks scattered under the trees, with (not a surprise) saffron cloths hung from trees and railings. The shelters had few walls, you could see right in, and they live on the ground in filth and piles of trash and plastic waste strewn about. Young boys are abundant. We paid for the privilege to take a picture with them and then chatted a bit. There are many parents who cannot work, they give their kids up and the monks teach them. So sad.
Ta Prohm is such a cool temple. It was in Tomb Raider and has trees growing on top and through it. The birds eat the fruits of the (kapok) tree and fertilize the tree to grow even more. Nature wins over man on this one! Outside the temple under the trees were vendors. I ticked off the challenge to buy something made in Cambodia and bought a $5 sundress which I am wearing now.. Alex's Vietnamese bag didn't count.
Next was a group of 3 temples called the Rolous Group. Roulos was the original capital of Khmer (which is the English name for Cambodia). We visited the 3 major temples.
Then we went to the Angkor Hospital for Children to donate some things.
A note on begging - well... aggressive salesmanship. Beautiful young teenage girls approach you and offer something for sale. They speak nasal English, smile teasingly, and many have the same patter: "You been here before? I remember you. You from states? Washington DC capital. What state you from?". Then, we went back to the hotel to take a quick swim before our 2 PM deadline.
The group met and Bill told us we have to get ourselves to the airport for an 8 PM flight to Bangkok. Following a quick discussion about why it's ok to go to Bangkok and disregard the state of emergency, we dispersed to swim (to TRY to cool off) and pack. As I write this a day later, the state of emergency has been lifted.
The 45 minute flight on Bangkok Air was the same length as the bus transfer from the Bangkok airport to the hotel. Three nights at the Mandarin Oriental. So so so so nice! Room overlooking the river. Quick shower and to bed for our 9 AM meeting to receive the Thailand scavenges.

Alex Ate a Tarantula Today

2009-04-23T08:19:00.000-04:00

The ride took about 5 hours. We stopped twice. The first stop was at a local roadside market that had a toilet (fetid hole in the ground with a porcelain apron) and people selling cut fruit and fried tarantulas and fried crickets. Not knowing the conditions under which the fruit was cut, we didn't eat any. But, Alex decided to try the tarantula. It was fried in oil with hot peppers. I took his word for it that it tasted like any fried thing.
We stopped again an hour or so later at a regular restaurant for stir fried chicken, vegys and cashews with steamed white rice.
We arrived into Siem Reap mid-afternoon. Love this city! It is the closest place to the Angkor temple area, so it has lots of hotels and restaurants of all levels. The temples were built beginning around the 9th century and are massive, with ornate carvings in the stones. More on that when we visit the temples. Siem Reap has a small river running through it and low buildings. Lots of trees. The central market area is bustling, but not with the edgy chaos of PP (instead of spelling out Phnom Penh all the time). When you step into the street, you need not fear for your life that a moped will run you down. Just off the central market is a restaurant area - lots of bars and cool places with sidewalk tables. We did our first mandatory food challenge by eating traditional Khmer food at a really cool place called Dead Fish. "'Khmer" is the Cambodian word for Cambodian and it is also the name of the language. Dead Fish is a restaurant and an internet cafe. The sign outside says, "Don't Serve Dog, Cat, Rat, Wrm". I think they mean "worms" but the rest of the promotion is reassuring. We shared a loc lac, which is beef and cucumbers, tomatoes and onions. Then we tackled the next scavenge of finding an Irish Pub for a pint. There is a fun street steps away, known as Pub Alley and we found Molly Malone's, where we saw Jackie and Sylvia who were finishing their pints. The heavens opened with pouring rain. It lasted less than a half hour. The rain briefly lowered the oppressive heat. It must be in the 90s, with killer humidity. The rain made the air smell sweet.
We went to the central market with a mission - to buy me a longsleeve white shirt for protection from the sun, and to get Alex a light bag for a daypack. We found very cheap things. There are few customers in the market. We were fascinated by the name brand goods for sale. Brands like North Face, Columbia, Abercrombie, Tommy Hilfiger hang on market stalls in abundance. Some are obvious cheap knockoffs. But others seemed real. And there was a North Face backpack with Quicksilver zipper pulls. So interesting.
The last mandatory food scavenge was a pate sandwich. Although we had seen a billboard on the road, it was hard to find and after asking in a few places, a shopkeeper pointed us to the Master Market.
All of the Cambodian people we have met have been so nice. They are warm, always smiling, and helpful.
We returned to the hotel to do the scavenge where you must get a Cambodian massage and describe what's different from American. Well, first of all, the masseuse had me get undressed and then redressed me in rough brown loose clothes like hospital scrubs. Also. during the massage, she got up on the table with me to get leverage to push harder. At the end, she gave me a washcloth soaked in eucalyptus. It was a great last activity! Heritage Suites Hotel is a great boutique - very comfy. Relais and Chateaux. Our room has an outdoor walled garden and shower. We hung out in the bar with fellow travelers and turned in early for the 4:45 AM wakeup.

Road Number 6 from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap

2009-04-23T07:09:00.000-04:00

In a car for much of the day, riding from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap, with the goal of arriving before dark. We are on road Number 6. It is about 11:30 AM in Cambodia and Alex and I are sitting side by side punching away at our blackberries, glancing up frequently at the view outside. The beginning hour or so was unpaved, dusty, crowded with mopeds, trucks, animals wandering, and busses stuffed with people and baggage hanging off of everywhere. Now, we are in a rural area with open dry fields peppered with palm trees which are apparently a crop.
This morning, we visited the Royal Palace and the Silver Pagoda. The ticket seller wouldn't admit me because I am sleeveless. Stretching my bandana around my shoulders didn't suffice, so I had to buy the 3 dollar t-shirt they were selling, in order to get in. One of the main attractions is the silver pagoda, where the floor is made of silver - 5329 tiles of silver flooring. The whole palace complex of about 18 structures is contained within a tall yellow wall and all of the buildings are tones of yellow, orange and cream.
The downtown area focuses on the riverfront - a big open plaza in front of the palace. There are market stalls and a festive feel. The riverfront is at the confluence of the Mekong and two other rivers (anyone who lived through the Vietnam War era has Mekong Delta pounded into their brain from news reports).
There are a number of classic French buildings and avenues which recall the French colonial period. There are also endless streets of cramped jumbled housing crowded with people. By the side of the city streets, people sit, eat, sell firewood and all kinds of food.
We visited S-21 Tuol Sleng Prison. This is now a museum, but before 1975 it was a high school. When the Khmer Rouge came to power and began a systematic prosecution of the democratic leaders, they used this former school buiding to detain, interrogate and torture prisoners. At least 5,000 people were tortured and killed after they signed confession documents. Artifacts of the gruesome methods and procedures remain. It's particularly eerie to wander the halls and rooms because the buiding is very much set up as a school. You can imagine students strolling the grounds. The museum brochure is a single sheet of paper and awkwardly translated, but the message is particularly powerful in their own words: "...it is a compulsoriness to preserve this place as an Achieves, Evidences. In order to keep in mind about all the oppression and exploitation of 'Khmer Rouge' regime. If we do not emerge the anger, do not remind this cruelty and inhumanity regime, this state will be fade away in our exhilaration". So true -- and eerily like the Jews say, "Remember the 6 Million".

Phnom Penh Top Ten

2009-04-22T02:23:00.000-04:00

This morning, we visited the Royal Palace and the Silver Pagoda. The ticket seller wouldn't admit me because I am sleeveless. Stretching my bandana around my shoulders didn't suffice, so I had to buy the 3 dollar t-shirt they were selling, in order to get in. One of the main attractions is the silver pagoda, where the floor is made of silver - 5329 tiles of silver flooring. The whole palace complex of about 18 structures is contained within a tall yellow wall and all of the buildings are tones of yellow, orange and cream. Surprisingly, the palace was relatively recently constructed - in 1917.
The downtown area focuses on the riverfront - a big open plaza in front of the palace. There are market stalls and a festive feel. The riverfront is at the confluence of the Mekong and two other rivers (anyone who lived through the Vietnam War era has Mekong Delta pounded into their brain from news reports).
There are a number of classic French buildings and avenues which recall the French colonial period. There are also endless streets of cramped jumbled housing. Along the sides of the city streets, people sit, eat, sell firewood and all kinds of food. The traffic is chaotic. Mopeds dart out of every alley where ever you look or don't look. There are phalaxes of mopeds racing forward at every change of the traffic light.
We visited S-21 Tuol Sleng Prison. This is now a museum, but before 1975 it was a high school. When the Khmer Rouge came to power and began a systematic prosecution of the democratic leaders, they used this former school buiding to detain, interrogate and torture prisoners. At least 5,000 people were tortured and killed after they signed confession documents. Artifacts of the gruesome methods and procedures remain. It's particularly eerie to wander the halls and rooms because the buiding is very much set up as a school. You can imagine students strolling the grounds. The museum brochure is a single sheet of paper and awkwardly translated, but the message is particularly powerful in their own words: "...it is a compulsoriness to preserve this place as an Achieves, Evidences. In order to keep in mind about all the oppression and exploitation of 'Khmer Rouge' regime. If we do not emerge the anger, do not remind this cruelty and inhumanity regime, this state will be fade away in our exhilaration". So true -- and eerily like the Jews say, "Remember the 6 Million".

Hitting the Wall in Phnom Penh

2009-04-22T00:27:00.000-04:00

Flight from Taipei to Phnom Penh took about 3 and a half hours, arrived at the Raffles Hotel around 12:30. We had until 2 to check in and report to the meeting.
Beautiful old colonial hotel with shuttered balconies and celing fans) (boosted by central air). It is HOT and STEAMY here! We took a half hour dip in the pool, joined by the 2 13-year olds -- Bill's daughter Petra who is travelling with us the first week, and Ben from Texas whose teammate is his grandma from Barbados. Ben's Mom Zoe and her partner Rannie swam too. It was really refreshing.
At the meeting, we were given the book of scavenges and learned that we must get ourselves to Siem Reap to meet at 2 PM tomorrow. Flying is discouraged - major point deduction. We spent some time planning out the trip with Steve and Bart, great guys from Southern California. Bart has visited all but 12 countries in the world and knows a thing or two about independent travelling.
We chose to go to the central market and buy school supplies and soccer balls to deliver to an orphange, which is about 50 minutes outside of town. Between buying and delivering the supplies, we decided to do a mandatory meal at Malis. During dinner, I started feeling unwell and decided to go back to the hotel while Alex, Bart and Steve went on to the orphanage. I took a cool shower, drank a lot of water and put myself to bed. While I was busy grappling with my whatever, Alex, Bart and Steve went to the bus station and bought tickets for the 8:30 AM to Siem Reap - about a 6 hour bus ride on partially unpaved roads. Hmmmm.

Dragons and Tigers and Elevators, Oh My!

2009-04-21T23:50:00.000-04:00

Taipei Take Two. Big advantage to start our second day with in Taipei with local currency, metro cards and maps in our pockets. Last night, we planned out a Bonus Scavenge - one of 4 excursions outside Taipei that could be done either day in Taipei, for 300 points. When we woke up to a rainy day (with thunder and lightning), the idea of the long train ride was looking quite smart. We chose the challenge to "take the HSR to Kaohsiung then visit the Tiger and Dragon Pagoda". As Alex has already said on his facebook posting: This scavenge required a little decoding... By visiting the train station information windows, we learned the HSR is High Speed Rail, the line runs the length of the country and Kaohsiung is the southern most terminus of the line. Taipei is at the north end so we traveled the entire length of the island in 90 minutes!.
Another decode was that the railroad spells the city's name differently. Instead of Kaohsiung, we had to get comfortable that Zuoying is the same place. We bought in and bought the train tickets.
Very fast train - probably comparable to a Japanese bullet. The rain was ripping across the windows. Rolling, very green plains, planted fields, terraced land, low mountains in the distance. Cozy ride, spotless train, assigned seats, treat cart lady rolling through periodically.
The city of Kaohsiung (or Zuoying) is located near the southern tip of the elongated island of Taiwan. The Dragon and Tiger Pagoda is on stilts and juts out on Lake Lotus. We took a taxi from the train station, along the shoreline toward the pagoda. Along the 10 minute ride, we saw a few other pagodas - intensely colored and decorated structures - about 5 stories high. Think of a very classy miniature golf course on steroids. The dragon is on the left and tiger on the right -- each crouching on the ground with big mouths open. Stairs lead into the dragon's mouth, up into the pagoda towers and disgorge out of the tiger's mouth. Quite cool!
The high speed rail got us back to Taipei around 3 PM. Having accomplished only one scavenge, we had plenty of ground to cover until 9:30 PM.
Made sense search for food. We had to figure out was lu-ro-fan is and eat it. It is a Taiwanese specialty. Simply put, a bowl of white rice topped with pork sauce that's kind of like the pork sauce that accompanies szechuan green beans. Delish! (And fast!)
We walked to two Temples next to each other. At Confuscius'
Temple, we were supposed to visit and learn something. We learned that the sign outside said "Closed Mondays". At Baoan Temple, we met lovely Anne from the neighborhood, whose English was great because she lived in the US for 13 years. She helped us decipher the carving on the East Gate and she answered a bunch of scavenge questions for us.
What does it mean if you drop your chopsicks? (A: you will be treated. To your next meal).
What does 10 10 mean? (A: October 10, an independence holiday)
Do you favor continued independence for Taiwan; or should it merge with mainland China? (A: Are you kidding? Everyone on Taiwan whose capitalist heritage allowed them to flourish during the years while mainland China has been under communist rule, have grown so far apart and so different).
We visited 2 tea shops and try 3 different kinds of tea, in a crowded district with narrow streets where the sidewalks are choked with vespa-like cycles parked in rows. We wove our way past rows of small storefronts of huge varity: ancient herbal remedy vendors, dusty shops selling random machine and electronic parts, fabrics by the yard, many open-air food stalls and an incongruous DIY store (like Michael's Crafts) displaying garish polyester yarns and bright plastic beads for craft projects like making tissue box covers. We entered the first tea shop we encountered. A 20ish year old man sat behind a desk with a flat stainless steel tray in front of him, with 4 cups of tea stewing. No English for the whole transaction; just gestures. He gave us teeny size cups - like about the size but not the shape of the soy and wasabi dipping bowl at a sushi restaurant. We pointed to what we wanted to try. After our tasting, we guessed at a price, but he signalled "No payment". As we learned at the next shop, the tastings at these shops are gratis. The Five Brothers shop we visited next exports wholesale to Japan, South Korea, Canada, etc. During the tastings we asked the political question again and again
to two of the brothwrs and one daughter (Should Taiwan aim to remain independent?) And got the same answer, tempered by resignation that Taiwan is tiny and defenseless against the Peoples Republic. Experinced dramatic differences between oolong and black teas. The daughter helped us figure out how to find (which she had to research) our mandatory scavenge for dinner.
Old Wang Beef Noodle King. Great name huh? Ex already blogged it and here is what he wrote: "This place was a TOTAL hole in the wall that we would have never picked on our own. There was not a single english word on the menu (which was posted on the wall) nor anyone to help us. The 'kitchen' was essentially a pot of boiling water, a pot of broth and some really intimidating looking cow parts. To 'order' we had to tell the 'cook' what we wanted. This proved to be a challenge as the menu was entirely in chinese and posted on the wall on the opposite side of the restaurant. I resorted to picking a random inexpensive item (approx USD 3.00) by pointing to it on the menu. We grabbed some beers from the fridge and hopped for the best. We ended up with some rice noodles in a spicy brown sauce with some lightly poached greens on top. It was really tasty and I was so pleased to avoid the scary cow parts everyone else in the restaurant seemed to be enjoying. Mom complemented me on my choice and we happily chowed down." By the way, the chopsticks were clean, disposable and sealed in plastic. With about one hour left and we decided to visit Taipei 101 which, at 101 floors is the tallest building in Taipei, and take the elevator to the observatory. A little wacky because the weather was 100 percent fog and as Alex described the view - it looked like a steamy bathroom mirror. What we didn't know before going was that the elevators are the fastest in the world. And, to get to the access to the observatory you walk through a mall kind of like Time Warner Center - new, grand, European designer boutiques. We got to the top in 37 seconds. Actually the exnibit showing the building's construction was interesting. There is a big ball called a wind damper that is suspended in the core and can sway slightly. It is a golden color and is secured by enormous ropes that I could swear had a gold lame sheen about them. We took adantage of the ice cream discount coupon withe the entrance ticket stub and got some dark chocolate chocolate chip ice cream to enjoy in the line waiting for the elevator to descend. Yes, there were many other tourists who rode up the tower to look at nothing out the window. Taxi back to the hotel, arrived 15 minutes before deadline.
The group gathered and we learned that we are to meet at the gate at the airport for a 9:10 AM flight to Phnom Penh and we are staying at the Raffles Hotel. That means leaving the hotel at 6:30 AM.

Master Fortune-Telling on the Street

2009-04-20T12:00:00.000-04:00

A 30ish year old guy standing in front of a table set up at a street market tried to hand me a pink flyer (in Taiwanese). I almost declined, but noted that the table was piled with a few books with Buddah's picture, and seated behind the table was a monk-y looking person. Being in need of our fortunes being told, we established that he spoke (a little) English and that the "Master" could tell our fortunes and he could translate for the master. Master was robed in purple, had a 3-day head stubble and a red dotted-forehead. Alex and I sat on the plastic stools across from Master. Our Translator had us write our names, which he slid over to Master so "she" (wow! it was a "she"!) could tell our future. Over a process that consumed a precious 45 minutes, we watched in silence as she bowed her head, closed her eyes and smiled. Sporadically, she slit her eyes open, jotted a few characters and closed her eyes again. When it was evident that she had completed that phase, Translator handed her 2 pink papers -- one with Alex's name he had written on it and one with mine. Master wrote columns of characters on each pink paper. When she finished, the laborious process of translation began. Translator would choose a cluster of characters and would confer with Master -- presumably to clarify his understanding so he could explain it to us. Launching into Alex's fortune, he reported that. Alex should use his heart and do things sincerely. His left side is weak - perhaps from a long plane ride. She told me that my left shoulder has a problem too - which she actually is right about. I am having some trouble with my rotator cuff. During the multiple conferences between Master and Translator to package each chunk of characters into a message, a small crowd gathered behind Alex and me. A woman who was involved with the chair massage enterprise at the next table came over to watch for a while. She leaned in and spoke discreetly to Alex and me in English and shared that she had lived in the US for a while - and her daughter is in medical school in New York. She asked, "You don't really believe this stuff, do you?", and then drifted back to the massages as the fortune-telling droned on. One guy, 30ish, consulted with Translator on his presentation parcels. The new guy, Alpha Translator, stepped up with better command of English and (thankfully) sped up the delivery. As our interest waned and our attention shifted to the next activity, we peppered him with questions. We asked about where to find an herbal medicine shop, a specific restaurant -- and other matters more pressing than our future fame and fortune, and our weak left sides. The new Alpha Translator helped us respectfully receive the wisdom of Master, while helping us to get up and go. As the fortune delivery finished and we stood to say thanks and goodbye, I complimented him on his English (and thought to myself - his tact, too). He said "I'm in international sales".