I like trains. I took them enough in India, but in Europe they are nice. Somehow a 750km train ride in India take 12 hours while in Europe it takes about 6. Depending on how many stops, it can be much faster.
So, on my itinerary was a visit to Armagnac. You might have heard that I'm a brandy fanatic, and well, going to France without visiting a few of my favorite brandy chateaux would be simply an insult to all the is good in this world. Ok, maybe not to EVERYTHING. But I'd certainly be remiss to neglect such an opportunity. Off I go. It's a tricky thing getting to Armagnac. You may have never heard of armagnac because it is completely overshadowed by it more commercial relative Cognac. Everyone has heard of cognac. Of course, rap music has something to do with that. Hennessey, Remy-Martin, Martell, and Couvoisier are the four well known major houses and they have gained some notoriety. Why, I can't tell you exactly, because the brandy they make is, generally speaking, far inferior to the really good cognac houses. I guess it's all a matter of marketing and branding. Look at Jack Daniel's... In any case, there is another reason Cognac is much more popular. It's because there is a major river in Cognac. Armagnac is essentially landlocked. Cognac had a much easier time distributing its product, and therefore it gained more popularity. But mind you, Armagnac just celebrated its 700th year of making grape brandy. So, the tradition and the quality are far superior in armagnac (that's an opinion, but I think a well founded one).
What does all that have to do with getting a train to armagnac? Well, the point is that you CAN'T actually get a train to armagnac. You have to catch a train to bordeaux or to mont de marsan and then rent a car, or hire an expensive taxi. Mont de Marsan is significantly closer to Labistide D'Armagnac, so I decided taking the train there would be a better call. Then to rent a car... Avis was the only place that had car rental, so that made the decision quite a bit easier. It was perhaps too expensive, but once I saw Labastide D'Armagnac, well, let's just say, renting a car was the best course of action...
A fun little navigation through southwest france, and 25 miles later was Chateau du Prada.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Chennai Super Kings: BRING IT
I called it! I called it from day one. Chennai Super Kings win the Indian Premiere League! I called that from day one. I also said that they'd beat the Mumbai Indians. Turns out, that was the championship match.
I have had the serious good fortune of being in cities when a bat and ball championship has occurred. For example 2005 Chicago White Sox! Also, 2008 Phillies! Now 2010 Chennai Super Kings! Of course I was not in chennai for the game or the celebrations, but I did support the team for the whole tournament.
I have this thing about supporting sporting. Somehow, sports are one thing that can really unite people locally (or regionally or nationally) across religion and politics.
Example: most right thinking americans will cheer for an american in the olympics. Of course we have the disease of having TOO MANY revisionists who wish to see the United States do poorly in everything (until of course it comes to their own personal finances), but in general, I think Americans cheer for Americans. Chicagoans cheer for Chicago teams (Cubs/Sox is an exception), Philladelphians cheer for Philly teams, Chennaikers cheer for the Chennai Super Kings (there are no other teams).
For what it's worth, I, myself, needed something for which to cheer concerning my time in Chennai and I actually like cricket. My close Indian friend doesn't like it, but that's because he's bitter about the fact that academics get paid shit while cricketers make more money each year than he will in a lifetime working in India. To be fair, I have the same gripes with professional athletes in the United States, but I got over it. They simply make more money, that's life. Life is unfair, cricket is awesome.
After a grueling regular season in which the super kings (what a shitty name!) were relegated to next to last in the standings after an abysmal 5 match losing streak, things began to look up. They won 3 in a row. Lost 1, then proceeding to kick ass and take names all the way to the semifinals and then crush sachin tendulkar and his elite batsmanship all the way to the tune of IPL champs! BOO YA! Go Super Kings. Also, Matthew Hayden is my boy!
I have had the serious good fortune of being in cities when a bat and ball championship has occurred. For example 2005 Chicago White Sox! Also, 2008 Phillies! Now 2010 Chennai Super Kings! Of course I was not in chennai for the game or the celebrations, but I did support the team for the whole tournament.
I have this thing about supporting sporting. Somehow, sports are one thing that can really unite people locally (or regionally or nationally) across religion and politics.
Example: most right thinking americans will cheer for an american in the olympics. Of course we have the disease of having TOO MANY revisionists who wish to see the United States do poorly in everything (until of course it comes to their own personal finances), but in general, I think Americans cheer for Americans. Chicagoans cheer for Chicago teams (Cubs/Sox is an exception), Philladelphians cheer for Philly teams, Chennaikers cheer for the Chennai Super Kings (there are no other teams).
For what it's worth, I, myself, needed something for which to cheer concerning my time in Chennai and I actually like cricket. My close Indian friend doesn't like it, but that's because he's bitter about the fact that academics get paid shit while cricketers make more money each year than he will in a lifetime working in India. To be fair, I have the same gripes with professional athletes in the United States, but I got over it. They simply make more money, that's life. Life is unfair, cricket is awesome.
After a grueling regular season in which the super kings (what a shitty name!) were relegated to next to last in the standings after an abysmal 5 match losing streak, things began to look up. They won 3 in a row. Lost 1, then proceeding to kick ass and take names all the way to the semifinals and then crush sachin tendulkar and his elite batsmanship all the way to the tune of IPL champs! BOO YA! Go Super Kings. Also, Matthew Hayden is my boy!
Vietnamese Food in Paris
Bahn Mi. It is among the best thing that has ever been concocted and simultaneously called a sandwich. But I didn't eat it in Paris. I did, however, seek out (like an eagle hunting an injured bird) a small vietnamese section in town to find pho.
I had COMPLETELY forgotten that Vietnam was a French colony not so long ago. Actually, I hadn't forgotten, but merely missed the connection when I got to Paris. I guess I was just so relieved to get to europe after months in the much further east. Paris surprised me with how well mixed the culture is. But the idea that I should find french speaking vietnamese resteraunteurs shouldn't have surprised me at all. Anyway, I was told there was "something like chinatown, except from vietnam." I knew what that meant. It meant I'd found a place where my nose would be happy. So, of course I went.
Funny thing: I have a hard enough time ordering vietnamese food in english... French just flabbergasted me. But somehow I managed to order pho. Basically the point and smile technique works everywhere. Sadly, I didn't get my pho with tendon and brisket, but I got whatever "normal" thing they serve. Oh, did I enjoy it.
What was more important to me, was trying to remember all the places that the french colonizers had gone. I came up with a long list of them and realized that there is a long list of ethnic tastiness to be had in Paris. Bistros, fine, beef tartar, completely delicious, but pho, tabbouleh, west african specialties, south indian things, etc. Paris offers a lot of tasty treats which are NOT french. I like that. I could be happy with that for a long time.
I had COMPLETELY forgotten that Vietnam was a French colony not so long ago. Actually, I hadn't forgotten, but merely missed the connection when I got to Paris. I guess I was just so relieved to get to europe after months in the much further east. Paris surprised me with how well mixed the culture is. But the idea that I should find french speaking vietnamese resteraunteurs shouldn't have surprised me at all. Anyway, I was told there was "something like chinatown, except from vietnam." I knew what that meant. It meant I'd found a place where my nose would be happy. So, of course I went.
Funny thing: I have a hard enough time ordering vietnamese food in english... French just flabbergasted me. But somehow I managed to order pho. Basically the point and smile technique works everywhere. Sadly, I didn't get my pho with tendon and brisket, but I got whatever "normal" thing they serve. Oh, did I enjoy it.
What was more important to me, was trying to remember all the places that the french colonizers had gone. I came up with a long list of them and realized that there is a long list of ethnic tastiness to be had in Paris. Bistros, fine, beef tartar, completely delicious, but pho, tabbouleh, west african specialties, south indian things, etc. Paris offers a lot of tasty treats which are NOT french. I like that. I could be happy with that for a long time.
The Hidden Nieghborhoods or Paris
I don't know how much I can claim to have visited the "hidden" neighborhoods of Paris, but I certainly made it into neighborhoods with very few tourists, and a much SMALLER proportion of english speakers. By the way, Thank you Parisians for putting up with my English. Thank you even more for putting up with my insultingly horrid C+ first semester level French! That helped me out a lot.
First Stop: Canal St. Martin.
If you've seen the film Amelie, and remember it... There is a scene in which she in skipping stones on a canal. This scene also offers perhaps some of the BEST filmwork of the early 2000's. It's a really fluid shot that goes from behind her, over her head and in front of her to just above the stone that seems as if it will hit the camera.
THAT:
That is Canal St. Martin. It is really lovely. The only tourists around are on canal cruise boats and so they aren't walking around bothering the normal crowd. Had a "Kebab" from a nearby turkish restaurant and somehow managed to plop my ass down to eat it right next to the canal flanked on all sides by lesbians enjoying the hell out of their sunday afternoons and girlfriends. Saw a guy with a remote control motorboat causing havoc with some of the canal's geese. Great amusement. The "kebab" or what we lebanese know as shawarma was decent. I do have to say, the donner kebabs all over Europe are TOTALLY subpar to those in Lebanon. If Turkey's Kebabs are really done that way, then I should make a habit of inviting people to Lebanon just for eating. Seriously, I know Turkey has a great culinary tradition (or has at least stolen many great culinary traditions from those it has conquered), but their Donner Kebabs as just not that good! Anyway, it was still delicious on a Sunday afternoon in Paris. I was still on the look out for Biere de Garde and when I spotted a group of kids with a bottle I immediately went to them and asked where they got it. They pointed me in some direction and I went.
On the way to the beer store, I got sidetracked again.
Second Stop: Little Jafna (or Little Sri Lanka).
As I mentioned before, I got REALLY excited about visiting a Tamil speaking Sri Lankan neighborhood in Paris. I really like Sri Lankan food, and I can even ask for it in Tamil. This will SURELY get me superb service and instant friends. What I found instead of Sri Lankans were Indians who don't speak Tamil, and an influx of Chinese. There were a few stores that sold Indian clothing, but were closed on Sunday Afternoon. I had no idea that Indians would ever close a shop if they had opportunity to make money. I was totally shocked. So in fact, I got to speak no Tamil, read no Tamil, and show off to no one with my limited Tamil skill. That's ok, because I came across a Lebanese restaurant with good hummus and tabbouleh. I sat around and did the common people watching thing that Parisians do. Eventually I made my way a little further and found the bar waiter who suggested Parc Des Buttes Chaumont.
About that time I got a craving for Vietnamese food. I have been without good pho for FAR FAR FAR too long, and went in search of it. In case you're wondering... Yes, I went in search of the Vietnamese Niehgborhood (which is near the Belleville stop on the Paris metro) and found it. However, I was supposed to meet my host at another restaurant in another part of town for "Persian" food. I enjoyed it quite a lot, but I suspect (always a sneaking suspicion) that Lebanese people had something to do with the particular preparation of food. All in all, a most successful day of running around the capital of france.
First Stop: Canal St. Martin.
If you've seen the film Amelie, and remember it... There is a scene in which she in skipping stones on a canal. This scene also offers perhaps some of the BEST filmwork of the early 2000's. It's a really fluid shot that goes from behind her, over her head and in front of her to just above the stone that seems as if it will hit the camera.
THAT:
That is Canal St. Martin. It is really lovely. The only tourists around are on canal cruise boats and so they aren't walking around bothering the normal crowd. Had a "Kebab" from a nearby turkish restaurant and somehow managed to plop my ass down to eat it right next to the canal flanked on all sides by lesbians enjoying the hell out of their sunday afternoons and girlfriends. Saw a guy with a remote control motorboat causing havoc with some of the canal's geese. Great amusement. The "kebab" or what we lebanese know as shawarma was decent. I do have to say, the donner kebabs all over Europe are TOTALLY subpar to those in Lebanon. If Turkey's Kebabs are really done that way, then I should make a habit of inviting people to Lebanon just for eating. Seriously, I know Turkey has a great culinary tradition (or has at least stolen many great culinary traditions from those it has conquered), but their Donner Kebabs as just not that good! Anyway, it was still delicious on a Sunday afternoon in Paris. I was still on the look out for Biere de Garde and when I spotted a group of kids with a bottle I immediately went to them and asked where they got it. They pointed me in some direction and I went.
On the way to the beer store, I got sidetracked again.
Second Stop: Little Jafna (or Little Sri Lanka).
As I mentioned before, I got REALLY excited about visiting a Tamil speaking Sri Lankan neighborhood in Paris. I really like Sri Lankan food, and I can even ask for it in Tamil. This will SURELY get me superb service and instant friends. What I found instead of Sri Lankans were Indians who don't speak Tamil, and an influx of Chinese. There were a few stores that sold Indian clothing, but were closed on Sunday Afternoon. I had no idea that Indians would ever close a shop if they had opportunity to make money. I was totally shocked. So in fact, I got to speak no Tamil, read no Tamil, and show off to no one with my limited Tamil skill. That's ok, because I came across a Lebanese restaurant with good hummus and tabbouleh. I sat around and did the common people watching thing that Parisians do. Eventually I made my way a little further and found the bar waiter who suggested Parc Des Buttes Chaumont.
About that time I got a craving for Vietnamese food. I have been without good pho for FAR FAR FAR too long, and went in search of it. In case you're wondering... Yes, I went in search of the Vietnamese Niehgborhood (which is near the Belleville stop on the Paris metro) and found it. However, I was supposed to meet my host at another restaurant in another part of town for "Persian" food. I enjoyed it quite a lot, but I suspect (always a sneaking suspicion) that Lebanese people had something to do with the particular preparation of food. All in all, a most successful day of running around the capital of france.
The Elusive 961
As per current records, the oldest cultivators of wine in history are those in the Bekaa Valley. By the way, that's in Lebanon. So, yes, I AM saying that Lebanon has a longer wine tradition than any other country. According to modern scholarship this is still true. I'd bet you with the stupid hummus wars in place, Israel will find some reason to say that wine is originally from Israel. Fact of the matter is this: Lebanon makes great wine. Even after war, even with a heavy islamic influence, even with an economy that went to shit, even with (insert other thing here that makes wine production difficult) Lebanon still makes great wine. One more remark on how awesome lebanon is for making this stuff...
One of the best vintages is 1978 Chateau Musar. Fine whatever, it's some year, some winery, somewhere. But 1978 was in the middle of a gruesome civil war. Absolutely horrible war, absolutely fantastic wine!
So, when you go to Lebanon looking for something other than wine or Arak it's a little difficult to find. Strangely finding lebanese brandy is a task. I'd expect that to be a no-brainer, but apparently, they simply like grape juice and anise too much. Oh well... But beer... Good luck buddy. Almaza is the king of Lebanese beer. If you're looking for something else, chances are you'll get Heineken (Almaza'a parent company) or Corona (for what reason I have no idea). But the new kid on the block, 961... Fat Chance. Lebanon's first microbrew.
I found a bottle way up in the mountains. I didn't even have to go to Beirut to find it. Moreoever, I didn't have to search for the brewery that apparently no longer exists. I found a bottle in the mountains. Tired of drinking the bland german and turkish products that actually make it to Lebanon I finally went for the 961. Problem was, I was looking for IPA, and they only had traditional lager. Why the hell is this such a popular style? If traditional lager were a varietal of grape it would be ugni blanc. Who makes WINE out of ugni blanc? Basically no one. Why? Quite simply, it's kinda of bland and boring. It doesn't have much flavor and it basically pissy alcoholic water... making it the wine equivalent of traditional euro-style piss lager which is the model for Budweiser, Miller, and all other evil breweries.
But, I wanted a real beer, and this was my best shot...
So I gave it a go.
Shockingly, it was really tasty! It was the same style, except with a nice hoppy backbone. I guess if I'd come from the states or Canada and tried it, I would have been terribly disappointed in how bland and boring it is, just like everything else. But I was coming from India, where the common "beer" can only be described as having imitation beer flavor. So if you go and read comments about 961traditional lager on ratebeer or beeradvocate you'll probably find more complaints than complements. I can't offer any other comment, but I definitely want to try their other beers. At least they are bold enough to add hops to their eurostyle piss beer.
But, all things considered, if you're going to Lebanon to drink, best bet is wine (or arak).
One of the best vintages is 1978 Chateau Musar. Fine whatever, it's some year, some winery, somewhere. But 1978 was in the middle of a gruesome civil war. Absolutely horrible war, absolutely fantastic wine!
So, when you go to Lebanon looking for something other than wine or Arak it's a little difficult to find. Strangely finding lebanese brandy is a task. I'd expect that to be a no-brainer, but apparently, they simply like grape juice and anise too much. Oh well... But beer... Good luck buddy. Almaza is the king of Lebanese beer. If you're looking for something else, chances are you'll get Heineken (Almaza'a parent company) or Corona (for what reason I have no idea). But the new kid on the block, 961... Fat Chance. Lebanon's first microbrew.
I found a bottle way up in the mountains. I didn't even have to go to Beirut to find it. Moreoever, I didn't have to search for the brewery that apparently no longer exists. I found a bottle in the mountains. Tired of drinking the bland german and turkish products that actually make it to Lebanon I finally went for the 961. Problem was, I was looking for IPA, and they only had traditional lager. Why the hell is this such a popular style? If traditional lager were a varietal of grape it would be ugni blanc. Who makes WINE out of ugni blanc? Basically no one. Why? Quite simply, it's kinda of bland and boring. It doesn't have much flavor and it basically pissy alcoholic water... making it the wine equivalent of traditional euro-style piss lager which is the model for Budweiser, Miller, and all other evil breweries.
But, I wanted a real beer, and this was my best shot...
So I gave it a go.
Shockingly, it was really tasty! It was the same style, except with a nice hoppy backbone. I guess if I'd come from the states or Canada and tried it, I would have been terribly disappointed in how bland and boring it is, just like everything else. But I was coming from India, where the common "beer" can only be described as having imitation beer flavor. So if you go and read comments about 961traditional lager on ratebeer or beeradvocate you'll probably find more complaints than complements. I can't offer any other comment, but I definitely want to try their other beers. At least they are bold enough to add hops to their eurostyle piss beer.
But, all things considered, if you're going to Lebanon to drink, best bet is wine (or arak).
Kollam Beach
Between the boredom of the out-of-town part of Kollam where we were and the need for some activity in the day (which is the same feeling really) we had decided to go into nearby Kollam Beach. A whole 12 km bus journey. Which means it only occupied an hour of our time (each way). We'd heard the waters were rough and the tides had serious undertows and therefore people didn't usually go in the water. I suspect there are other reasons that people don't go into the water. Part of it has to do with the fact that Indians generally use waters for BATHING, not swimming. Even in Pondicherry I saw people in the water essentially for bathing purposes. No one would be crazy enough to SWIM in the water. So it was with Kollam Beach.
What should be an otherwise beautiful tourist spot is basically an Indian hideout completely littered with garbage. Literally littered with litter. Disgusting!
After sitting on the beach for a while and watching a couple of kids get about 3 feet deep into the water with all their clothes the wind started up. Part of Kollam's tide comes from the fact that the beach itself is steep. The water doesn't gently come to shore, but rather hits a shore with a serious incline. The wind therefore picks up sand in a funny way and threw it against us in a stinging manner. Ugh. Well, we kept sitting after that first blast of sand (what was considered a cool breeze is as my friend says "a searing wind") we watched these kids playing in the shallow water. Then we watched them throwing litter and more shit right into the water.
That did it. I went down and started grabbing shit out of the water and collecting it. I walked all the way to the sidewalk to grab a huge trash can and carry it about 50 m in toward the water. I demanded that people throw away their garbage. F*cking trash. I hate India! Why do you just litter everything? Destroying your beautiful beaches... Bastards!
Anyway, I actually managed to get about 4 people to pick up a piece of garbage close by and toss it into the bin. I figured if every person took away one more piece of trash than they left, the beach would be clean in about a week. This belief is actually two combined statements.
1) There is a lot of trash
2) There are so many more indians visiting that beach.
Anyway, a little sun, a little sand, picking up a little trash, attempting to go to bar. Oh wait, they have a full menu, but aren't carrying ANY of the drinks on it. What is this place. Ugh. Ok, back to the bus to our hotel with a bar carrying no drinks and walking toward the closest restaurant a mile away and listening to the loud "devotions" playing 20 hours a day right into our room. Gotta Love India.
What should be an otherwise beautiful tourist spot is basically an Indian hideout completely littered with garbage. Literally littered with litter. Disgusting!
After sitting on the beach for a while and watching a couple of kids get about 3 feet deep into the water with all their clothes the wind started up. Part of Kollam's tide comes from the fact that the beach itself is steep. The water doesn't gently come to shore, but rather hits a shore with a serious incline. The wind therefore picks up sand in a funny way and threw it against us in a stinging manner. Ugh. Well, we kept sitting after that first blast of sand (what was considered a cool breeze is as my friend says "a searing wind") we watched these kids playing in the shallow water. Then we watched them throwing litter and more shit right into the water.
That did it. I went down and started grabbing shit out of the water and collecting it. I walked all the way to the sidewalk to grab a huge trash can and carry it about 50 m in toward the water. I demanded that people throw away their garbage. F*cking trash. I hate India! Why do you just litter everything? Destroying your beautiful beaches... Bastards!
Anyway, I actually managed to get about 4 people to pick up a piece of garbage close by and toss it into the bin. I figured if every person took away one more piece of trash than they left, the beach would be clean in about a week. This belief is actually two combined statements.
1) There is a lot of trash
2) There are so many more indians visiting that beach.
Anyway, a little sun, a little sand, picking up a little trash, attempting to go to bar. Oh wait, they have a full menu, but aren't carrying ANY of the drinks on it. What is this place. Ugh. Ok, back to the bus to our hotel with a bar carrying no drinks and walking toward the closest restaurant a mile away and listening to the loud "devotions" playing 20 hours a day right into our room. Gotta Love India.
Parc des Buttes Chaumont
I bet I spelled the park name terribly wrong. My apologies to all my parisian readers (if there are any, and probably there are not).
I spent a Sunday afternoon in Paris touring around some less well known neighborhoods and found an alley with a few pubs, cafes, and restaurants, near a section I believed to be called "Little Jafna" in Paris. I had been on a mission to find this sri lankan neighborhood because according to some sources it's a Tamil speaking neighborhood or Paris. I figured between my broken french, tamil, and my well versed english I'd have no problem getting across the point I needed.
Well, I got sidetracked. I sat down for a beer (shock) and the bar waiter sat down and started chatting. I freaking LOVE paris. He sat down with a map and told me where basically everything was that he finds cool in paris. Amongst the highest recommendations was the parc des buttes chaumont. So on Monday I set out to find it. Armed only with a map with a few circles on it and limited french I figured it would happen. Luckily, Paris is geographically VERY small. The suburbs stretch out forever, but Paris itself... not so big.
In order to get to the park you have to walk up a rather large hill. I didn't know Paris had such a hill, but it does. You'll pass by the canal where Amelie skipped stones, and past a small chinese and vietnamese nieghborhood into a residential area where all the beautiful american stereotypes placed on paris are true. The only difference is that Paris is still more awesome than the sterotypes portray it to be.
Quick disclaimer: These are my opinions about Paris, but I think they are widely held opinions.
I step into a little wine shop right next to the local butcher. Why the hell not, I'm in France right? What's this? Really good wine for how much? TWO EUROS? THREE EUROS? A bottle of Cote Du Rhone 2004 for SEVEN EUROS!? OH MY GOD, I am SO MOVING HERE! So I splurged about bought two bottles of wine to take back to my host. I spent a whopping 7.35 euros (~$11) on two nice (not amazing, but very nice) bottles of wine. Walked along toward the park. Aha! There's a sign pointing me exactly where I want to go. MMM sushi. Don't stop now, go to the park. Oh, another liquor store, but with microbrewed french beer... Well, there goes more of my money. It was worth it, I found some exceptional beers of which I'd never heard and paid another 3 euros for a couple of bottles. Not a big spending day in fact.
Finally I make it to the park. It is absolutely gorgeous. Despite the fact that it was far too cold to really enjoy it, I sat up at the top of the first hill and watched people for a while. I got to play with a small dog running around chasing birds while his owner was studying something. There was a group of kids picnicking at the top of the same hill, so I busted out one of my beers. Not only, no complaints, but I found signs that say, don't litter, and they have pics of wine bottles on them. Drinking in the park, how novel! So I enjoy two of the finest french beers of my life and watch people for quite some time. A group of "alternative life style" women doing some very old school calisthenics, a group of teens playing guitar and singing crappy songs. I'm transported directly back to my youth for a moment. Then on the recommendation of the same waiter from sunday as before, I set off looking for a restaurant called Rosa Bonheur. It turns out, that restaurant is IN the park. The park is quite a bit larger than I'd expected. It contains miles of running tracks and several restaurants (including a mexican restaurant which I did not visit). I finally found Rosa Bonheur, but it was closed for renovation. Oh well.
Hey what's that? It's some look out or something... Nice!
Checking it out... Good place to sit, excellent view of paris, get to see the sunset from here... Sitting down right about now.
Eventually it occurred to me that the park closes AT sunset and I had quite a way to go down to get out. In order to avoid being
a) Trapped in the park all night
b) arrested
I decided it was best to leave BEFORE the park closed. Good call by the way.
But I did find something that to which I will immediately return upon arrival in Paris the next trip. There WILL be a next trip.
I spent a Sunday afternoon in Paris touring around some less well known neighborhoods and found an alley with a few pubs, cafes, and restaurants, near a section I believed to be called "Little Jafna" in Paris. I had been on a mission to find this sri lankan neighborhood because according to some sources it's a Tamil speaking neighborhood or Paris. I figured between my broken french, tamil, and my well versed english I'd have no problem getting across the point I needed.
Well, I got sidetracked. I sat down for a beer (shock) and the bar waiter sat down and started chatting. I freaking LOVE paris. He sat down with a map and told me where basically everything was that he finds cool in paris. Amongst the highest recommendations was the parc des buttes chaumont. So on Monday I set out to find it. Armed only with a map with a few circles on it and limited french I figured it would happen. Luckily, Paris is geographically VERY small. The suburbs stretch out forever, but Paris itself... not so big.
In order to get to the park you have to walk up a rather large hill. I didn't know Paris had such a hill, but it does. You'll pass by the canal where Amelie skipped stones, and past a small chinese and vietnamese nieghborhood into a residential area where all the beautiful american stereotypes placed on paris are true. The only difference is that Paris is still more awesome than the sterotypes portray it to be.
Quick disclaimer: These are my opinions about Paris, but I think they are widely held opinions.
I step into a little wine shop right next to the local butcher. Why the hell not, I'm in France right? What's this? Really good wine for how much? TWO EUROS? THREE EUROS? A bottle of Cote Du Rhone 2004 for SEVEN EUROS!? OH MY GOD, I am SO MOVING HERE! So I splurged about bought two bottles of wine to take back to my host. I spent a whopping 7.35 euros (~$11) on two nice (not amazing, but very nice) bottles of wine. Walked along toward the park. Aha! There's a sign pointing me exactly where I want to go. MMM sushi. Don't stop now, go to the park. Oh, another liquor store, but with microbrewed french beer... Well, there goes more of my money. It was worth it, I found some exceptional beers of which I'd never heard and paid another 3 euros for a couple of bottles. Not a big spending day in fact.
Finally I make it to the park. It is absolutely gorgeous. Despite the fact that it was far too cold to really enjoy it, I sat up at the top of the first hill and watched people for a while. I got to play with a small dog running around chasing birds while his owner was studying something. There was a group of kids picnicking at the top of the same hill, so I busted out one of my beers. Not only, no complaints, but I found signs that say, don't litter, and they have pics of wine bottles on them. Drinking in the park, how novel! So I enjoy two of the finest french beers of my life and watch people for quite some time. A group of "alternative life style" women doing some very old school calisthenics, a group of teens playing guitar and singing crappy songs. I'm transported directly back to my youth for a moment. Then on the recommendation of the same waiter from sunday as before, I set off looking for a restaurant called Rosa Bonheur. It turns out, that restaurant is IN the park. The park is quite a bit larger than I'd expected. It contains miles of running tracks and several restaurants (including a mexican restaurant which I did not visit). I finally found Rosa Bonheur, but it was closed for renovation. Oh well.
Hey what's that? It's some look out or something... Nice!
Checking it out... Good place to sit, excellent view of paris, get to see the sunset from here... Sitting down right about now.
Eventually it occurred to me that the park closes AT sunset and I had quite a way to go down to get out. In order to avoid being
a) Trapped in the park all night
b) arrested
I decided it was best to leave BEFORE the park closed. Good call by the way.
But I did find something that to which I will immediately return upon arrival in Paris the next trip. There WILL be a next trip.
An odd weather traveler
This spring in Europe has been exceptionally cold. I've been told how cold and rainy it is here in France, Spain, Holland, and even in Poland. It's just been a miserably cold spring. For me, it's ok, but it's interesting that I'm getting uncommon weather because I have a history of this. Perhaps I noted this once while I was in Delhi earlier this year, but let me just give a short recap of my unusual weather experiences with travel.
3 days of 5 raining in Denver,
3 days of 5 raining in San Diego,
both of which are 330+ days of sunshine per year.
Rain in the summer in Lebanon,
Beautiful springtime weather at christmas in Lebanon,
Coldest day in 7 years in Delhi,
Amazing sunshine and warm weather at easter in england,
and now a brutally cold spring in europe.
It has been amusing to me that most of my trip has been spent with temperatures in the 40s and 50s (F) and even a few nights of frost (in MAY!!) which qualifies as colder than the coldest temperature in recorded history in chennai! Weird.
Here's hoping Philly Beer Week is nicer!
3 days of 5 raining in Denver,
3 days of 5 raining in San Diego,
both of which are 330+ days of sunshine per year.
Rain in the summer in Lebanon,
Beautiful springtime weather at christmas in Lebanon,
Coldest day in 7 years in Delhi,
Amazing sunshine and warm weather at easter in england,
and now a brutally cold spring in europe.
It has been amusing to me that most of my trip has been spent with temperatures in the 40s and 50s (F) and even a few nights of frost (in MAY!!) which qualifies as colder than the coldest temperature in recorded history in chennai! Weird.
Here's hoping Philly Beer Week is nicer!
Monday, May 17, 2010
The HouseBoats of Kerala
I know it's a tourist pitch. It is completely and utterly a tourist pitch. But I'll still go for it. In Goa, if you don't drink Fenny, your trip is incomplete. In Kerala, if you don't see the backwaters on a houseboat, your trip is incomplete.
Fine, let's do it. Actually, I've got to say, for all the terrible shit going down in Kerala, it's really a beautiful place. So we trotted around looking at a couple of houseboats in Kollam and Kollam Beach. All about the same. Fortunately, the best boat was owned by our hotel. So we rented it for a night. I have to say, for the price, it's damn hard to beat it. But if you're into excitement or socializing, you'd better make sure you've got a lively group going with you, otherwise your trip will bore you to sleep and it won't take long.
Our negotiations landed us with a one-night cruise up the backwaters from out hotel. We thought we'd dock at some village north of our starting point and begin again early in the morning and land back at the hotel by about noon. Oops. The boat actually docked at the hotel's "island" about 300m away from the hotel. Quite boring. We'd asked for other people to join us and the hotel insisted that we didn't have to have anyone with us if we didn't want. It was not about the price! For one night with boatride, beautiful room, all meals included for two people the cost was around $150, maybe a touch less. I didn't care about splitting the cost. Going to bed at sunset is just a little boring...
So my suggestions to myself are these. Make sure you have at least 4 people and some entertainment with you. Also make sure that you're taking a two night cruise and that you can dock somewhere else on the first night.
Things that went well.
The food at least was excellent. Actually, some of the best I'd had in India. In addition I'd been asking everyone in the whole state of Kerala for Toddy (fermented coconut wine) and the guy organizing the boat house said he could get some "fresh" toddy. I was excited about that. Turned out, it was basically coconut sap. It hadn't really fermented much yet, but there was yeast present. That basically meant the whole glass of milky sap tasted like bread. A little weird, but I knew what was going on. In addition, somewhere in the middle of a big lake, we decided that it would be a good idea to go swimming. I jumped off the roof of the houseboat and into the lake. It appeared that the lake had a really soft bottom which was only about 2 meters down. So it's rather lucky that I didn't dive into the water, but rather just jumped in. Totally fun time. The water was a bit strong in current, so we decided after about 20 minutes we were done swimming. Funny thing: the boat had no ladder. I don't think they are accustomed to crazy americans actually ENJOYING SWIMMING. So they had to pull us each into the boat by hand. THAT was amusing.
Fine, let's do it. Actually, I've got to say, for all the terrible shit going down in Kerala, it's really a beautiful place. So we trotted around looking at a couple of houseboats in Kollam and Kollam Beach. All about the same. Fortunately, the best boat was owned by our hotel. So we rented it for a night. I have to say, for the price, it's damn hard to beat it. But if you're into excitement or socializing, you'd better make sure you've got a lively group going with you, otherwise your trip will bore you to sleep and it won't take long.
Our negotiations landed us with a one-night cruise up the backwaters from out hotel. We thought we'd dock at some village north of our starting point and begin again early in the morning and land back at the hotel by about noon. Oops. The boat actually docked at the hotel's "island" about 300m away from the hotel. Quite boring. We'd asked for other people to join us and the hotel insisted that we didn't have to have anyone with us if we didn't want. It was not about the price! For one night with boatride, beautiful room, all meals included for two people the cost was around $150, maybe a touch less. I didn't care about splitting the cost. Going to bed at sunset is just a little boring...
So my suggestions to myself are these. Make sure you have at least 4 people and some entertainment with you. Also make sure that you're taking a two night cruise and that you can dock somewhere else on the first night.
Things that went well.
The food at least was excellent. Actually, some of the best I'd had in India. In addition I'd been asking everyone in the whole state of Kerala for Toddy (fermented coconut wine) and the guy organizing the boat house said he could get some "fresh" toddy. I was excited about that. Turned out, it was basically coconut sap. It hadn't really fermented much yet, but there was yeast present. That basically meant the whole glass of milky sap tasted like bread. A little weird, but I knew what was going on. In addition, somewhere in the middle of a big lake, we decided that it would be a good idea to go swimming. I jumped off the roof of the houseboat and into the lake. It appeared that the lake had a really soft bottom which was only about 2 meters down. So it's rather lucky that I didn't dive into the water, but rather just jumped in. Totally fun time. The water was a bit strong in current, so we decided after about 20 minutes we were done swimming. Funny thing: the boat had no ladder. I don't think they are accustomed to crazy americans actually ENJOYING SWIMMING. So they had to pull us each into the boat by hand. THAT was amusing.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Like Beer? Give Paris a shot.
After a short delay in my travel plans in which I had to skip over Amsterdam and Antwerp I flew into Paris. What to do? What to do? Luckily I was staying with a friend of a friend who happens to be a physicist and had a decent internet connection. So, after I get set up briefly I scour the web for some fun info on Paris.
First things first. No Eiffel Tower, no Louvre, no Notre Dame. In fact I saw all those things before when I was a teenager traveling around with my parents and sister. Fine and well, you can't totally miss all that if you're in central Paris. So, what did I search for? Of course. "Forgotten Neighborhoods of Paris." I also looked for lesser known neighborhoods, hidden gems, etc. I went around to most of the suggested neighborhoods, but what I thought was best was an article I found about a guy who'd toured Paris looking for good beer. Turns out, Parisians drink a LOT of beer. Like as much as coffee, tea, or wine. Basically, on every corner there is at least one Brasserie. In older days, a brasserie was ACTUALLY a brewery. Now, most of them function as cafes and beer bars. The selection isn't always that great, but most of the time there is really great food being served, excellent coffee, and of course french beer.
The nice thing about Paris, which everyone talks about, is the fact that lunch is not rushed. For me, the most enjoyable thing about being in Paris is going to a brasserie and sitting. Just sitting. There is no rush. Start with Ricard or Pernod. Have a small salad or a soup. Have a beer, a glass of wine, whatever you like. No rush whatsoever. I somehow think that if you rush through this sort of thing you'll end up spending most of your money much faster than you'd expected. For me... Salad, beer, and perhaps a little beef tartar if it's available. Perhaps another beer. I should also point out that beers in Paris are not served like beers in America or Germany of India. They are served in little 8 oz servings, half pints. I love the half pint!
Also, French beers are mostly belgian style blonde ales. It's a good thing. I do however, recommend that if you're going for beef tartar, go for a belgian style brown ale or a nice glass of red table wine. (Note, this means french table wine, not yellow tail...)
So, if you happen to find yourself in Paris, go sit at a brasserie and waste away the day talking to random people and watching folks skate,bike, and stroll in front of you. Have yourself a beer, have another, then walk with no rush to the next "item on your agenda" (If you're in such a rush as to have one).
First things first. No Eiffel Tower, no Louvre, no Notre Dame. In fact I saw all those things before when I was a teenager traveling around with my parents and sister. Fine and well, you can't totally miss all that if you're in central Paris. So, what did I search for? Of course. "Forgotten Neighborhoods of Paris." I also looked for lesser known neighborhoods, hidden gems, etc. I went around to most of the suggested neighborhoods, but what I thought was best was an article I found about a guy who'd toured Paris looking for good beer. Turns out, Parisians drink a LOT of beer. Like as much as coffee, tea, or wine. Basically, on every corner there is at least one Brasserie. In older days, a brasserie was ACTUALLY a brewery. Now, most of them function as cafes and beer bars. The selection isn't always that great, but most of the time there is really great food being served, excellent coffee, and of course french beer.
The nice thing about Paris, which everyone talks about, is the fact that lunch is not rushed. For me, the most enjoyable thing about being in Paris is going to a brasserie and sitting. Just sitting. There is no rush. Start with Ricard or Pernod. Have a small salad or a soup. Have a beer, a glass of wine, whatever you like. No rush whatsoever. I somehow think that if you rush through this sort of thing you'll end up spending most of your money much faster than you'd expected. For me... Salad, beer, and perhaps a little beef tartar if it's available. Perhaps another beer. I should also point out that beers in Paris are not served like beers in America or Germany of India. They are served in little 8 oz servings, half pints. I love the half pint!
Also, French beers are mostly belgian style blonde ales. It's a good thing. I do however, recommend that if you're going for beef tartar, go for a belgian style brown ale or a nice glass of red table wine. (Note, this means french table wine, not yellow tail...)
So, if you happen to find yourself in Paris, go sit at a brasserie and waste away the day talking to random people and watching folks skate,bike, and stroll in front of you. Have yourself a beer, have another, then walk with no rush to the next "item on your agenda" (If you're in such a rush as to have one).
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
More Polish Misadventures
Before all the ass painting and fire-breathing tuba madness I had been speaking with my host at the mathematics institute about how sorry a mathematician I am. I'm kind of ok with that. At least I'm a good speaker. Well, with that rousing recommendation of my mathematical abilities I decided to set out and see some more warsaw.
I went to the nearest metro station, bought a 24 hour ticket and set out for old town. I accidentally overshot it and first went to the neighborhood immediately north of old town known as new town. Stare Miasto and Nowy Miasto. I navigated on instinct alone. I'd looked at a map earlier and was carrying a badly detailed tourist pocket map just for reference and just set out in the right direction. First thing, I saw a huge monument. Again, since my Polish language skills are close to nonexistent, I discerned that I was at a monument for World War II casualties and veterans. It was surrounded by an enormous building, super duper big (in area, not height) and I thought perhaps it was a museum, but that didn't make too much sense. I found out later (from a chilean consulate) that it is the ministry of justice. Go figure. I strolled through the new town neighborhood and realized I was slightly in the wrong spot and just turned south for a bit and wandered directly into a beautiful part of the city.
Stare Miasto is prototypical as an eastern european city. Colorful buildings, lots of big beautiful churches, lots of people eating at pubs and drinking copious amounts of beer. Walking around the not so big neighborhood I ran into lots of small things with big charm. Old town is also on the west side of the river that runs through the middle of warsaw. I walked down close to the river, and found some nice "forests" on either side. I guess they used to be forests, but there are still lots of trees adorning each side of the river, it's just that now they aren't the thick forests that they once were. Human settlement and a little thing called war took care of the forest density. I sat down at a small pub for a pint. I saw on the TV that some football match (soccer game) was happening.
Quick Aside: Football (as a sport's name) is even more confusing here than elsewhere since Warsaw has two soccer teams and an American Football team (called the Eagles, GO PHILLY! E-A-G-L-E-S). I didn't bust out any e-a-g-l-e-s here, because I didn't think they'd understand what the hell I was doing. Besides, the match was between the two warsaw soccer teams. Turns out it was the Polish first league and a fairly important match. But to my understanding it was sort of a yankees-mets or cubs-sox or rangers-islanders or jets-giants or galaxy-cd chivas type rivalry. That is to say (for the less sports educated readers) they don't like each other very much. But to me, polish first league soccer isn't terribly interesting. I'm gearing up for USA-England on June 12.
I finished my (first) pint and wandered around. I walked through a very residential area of nowy miasto and saw two kids on bikes. They weren't really kids so much as people my age, but they WERE on bikes and they WERE speaking english. Turns out, one is from the states and the other from chile. The american had something to do and so split immediately, but I asked the chilean (who speaks rather good english) if he wanted to go for a beer.
First things first. We heard loud cheering and wanted to go see what it was. Turns out, it was the same soccer game (football match) that was airing in the pub. Some kids across the street from the stadium had a nice half stair-case from which we could look into the stadium. So with my new found chilean friend and a crowd of random people we watched about 20 minutes of the big game.
So, now with a traveling companion we set out to see some warsaw. It turns out this guy from chile has been living in Poland for close to a year and is a consulate. He works with the embassy here. He also told me that there are 50 Chileans living in all of Poland. I guess his job is not REALLY taxing when it comes to visa issues and such. Don't get me wrong, he works harder than I do, but it seems the amount of travel from Poland to Chile is rather minimal, and looking after Chile's citizens in Poland is probably not as difficult as say, looking after tibetans in india...
So we went for some food and drink. Stopping along the way to eat Shawarma and sausage and drink a beer across the street from the mourning place for Poland's recently passed president. We paused to pay homage, and then drank. I'll drink one more for the president before I leave.
He told me he had to go to the gym since it closes early. And we agreed to meet close by at 10 PM. That gave me more time to wander around. By the way, I'm not getting very good use of my 24 hour pass. But it's ok, I saw about 6 neighborhood of warsaw that were new to me.
At 10 we met again and wandered around. He shared with me some fantastic chilean pisco (he was shocked that I knew what it was and liked it) as well as some really fantastic mexican mezcal. Didn't think I'd see either of THOSE in poland, but then again, I didn't expect to see a fire-breathing tuba either. The rest of the night BASICALLY went as usual. A little pub crawl, talking to random folks in languages I don't really speak, drinking beer I don't really like, and walking home after the train stops running. Off fore more misadventuring!
I went to the nearest metro station, bought a 24 hour ticket and set out for old town. I accidentally overshot it and first went to the neighborhood immediately north of old town known as new town. Stare Miasto and Nowy Miasto. I navigated on instinct alone. I'd looked at a map earlier and was carrying a badly detailed tourist pocket map just for reference and just set out in the right direction. First thing, I saw a huge monument. Again, since my Polish language skills are close to nonexistent, I discerned that I was at a monument for World War II casualties and veterans. It was surrounded by an enormous building, super duper big (in area, not height) and I thought perhaps it was a museum, but that didn't make too much sense. I found out later (from a chilean consulate) that it is the ministry of justice. Go figure. I strolled through the new town neighborhood and realized I was slightly in the wrong spot and just turned south for a bit and wandered directly into a beautiful part of the city.
Stare Miasto is prototypical as an eastern european city. Colorful buildings, lots of big beautiful churches, lots of people eating at pubs and drinking copious amounts of beer. Walking around the not so big neighborhood I ran into lots of small things with big charm. Old town is also on the west side of the river that runs through the middle of warsaw. I walked down close to the river, and found some nice "forests" on either side. I guess they used to be forests, but there are still lots of trees adorning each side of the river, it's just that now they aren't the thick forests that they once were. Human settlement and a little thing called war took care of the forest density. I sat down at a small pub for a pint. I saw on the TV that some football match (soccer game) was happening.
Quick Aside: Football (as a sport's name) is even more confusing here than elsewhere since Warsaw has two soccer teams and an American Football team (called the Eagles, GO PHILLY! E-A-G-L-E-S). I didn't bust out any e-a-g-l-e-s here, because I didn't think they'd understand what the hell I was doing. Besides, the match was between the two warsaw soccer teams. Turns out it was the Polish first league and a fairly important match. But to my understanding it was sort of a yankees-mets or cubs-sox or rangers-islanders or jets-giants or galaxy-cd chivas type rivalry. That is to say (for the less sports educated readers) they don't like each other very much. But to me, polish first league soccer isn't terribly interesting. I'm gearing up for USA-England on June 12.
I finished my (first) pint and wandered around. I walked through a very residential area of nowy miasto and saw two kids on bikes. They weren't really kids so much as people my age, but they WERE on bikes and they WERE speaking english. Turns out, one is from the states and the other from chile. The american had something to do and so split immediately, but I asked the chilean (who speaks rather good english) if he wanted to go for a beer.
First things first. We heard loud cheering and wanted to go see what it was. Turns out, it was the same soccer game (football match) that was airing in the pub. Some kids across the street from the stadium had a nice half stair-case from which we could look into the stadium. So with my new found chilean friend and a crowd of random people we watched about 20 minutes of the big game.
So, now with a traveling companion we set out to see some warsaw. It turns out this guy from chile has been living in Poland for close to a year and is a consulate. He works with the embassy here. He also told me that there are 50 Chileans living in all of Poland. I guess his job is not REALLY taxing when it comes to visa issues and such. Don't get me wrong, he works harder than I do, but it seems the amount of travel from Poland to Chile is rather minimal, and looking after Chile's citizens in Poland is probably not as difficult as say, looking after tibetans in india...
So we went for some food and drink. Stopping along the way to eat Shawarma and sausage and drink a beer across the street from the mourning place for Poland's recently passed president. We paused to pay homage, and then drank. I'll drink one more for the president before I leave.
He told me he had to go to the gym since it closes early. And we agreed to meet close by at 10 PM. That gave me more time to wander around. By the way, I'm not getting very good use of my 24 hour pass. But it's ok, I saw about 6 neighborhood of warsaw that were new to me.
At 10 we met again and wandered around. He shared with me some fantastic chilean pisco (he was shocked that I knew what it was and liked it) as well as some really fantastic mexican mezcal. Didn't think I'd see either of THOSE in poland, but then again, I didn't expect to see a fire-breathing tuba either. The rest of the night BASICALLY went as usual. A little pub crawl, talking to random folks in languages I don't really speak, drinking beer I don't really like, and walking home after the train stops running. Off fore more misadventuring!
Polish Misadventures
ASS PAINTING. Wait. What? Does that shop door say "ASS PAINTING?" It can't possibly be right. I step closer to find out what's going on. OH!
GLASS PAINTING!
That seems much more appropriate for old town warsaw. Although, I'm still not sure why the sign was in English. Either way I got a huge laugh out of it. But the shop keep still needs to replace the 'GL' lettering on the door. For now the door actually says "ASS PAINTING." Mind you, I'm not in any way against the idea of a business whose main goal is indeed livening up certain sets of buttocks with colorful ardor and panache, but I simply can't see the sustainability of such an enterprise, maybe in Warsaw...
I turn around and in my 360 degree view I see three gorgeous old catholic churches, a sort of fortress protecting Stare Miasto (the neighborhood of old town) a momument to someone I don't know for doing something I never learned in a language I can't read, a big open public space filled with restaurants and bars, plentiful youth with skateboards, guitars, and ice creams, and somewhere not so far off I hear polka. It sounds live. I gravitate toward the polka.
Open admission... I like Polka music. I especially love it when beer is involved, or when I'm in the former eastern block.
This polka sounds mildly strange, like only the tuba is live. When I find it around the corner I see that indeed it's only a tuba. He's got a boombox with him. Although, something else is strange about this guy...
FIRE IS COMING OUT OF HIS TUBA! What the hell is going on? Fire breathing Tuba. I'm pretty sure that sealed the deal. I love Warsaw.
I had to sit and watch for a little while. It turns out that I was in a slightly touristy area, but the locals hang out there too. This fire-breathing tuba guy doesn't seem to be run of the mill. A lot of people were looking at him. I was sitting and wondering what sort of contraption he rigged to make his tuba breathe fire. I also wondered how he'd tuned his tuba to keep it from being incredibly sharp. I took another walk around the block and came back to see the fire-breathing tuba from the other side. I walked very close behind him and found that he welded a contraption onto the bell of his tuba so that when he presses a small button with his left hand it releases some gas and flame. He was pressing the button when he was playing notes to give the impression that he was breathing fire. But it really looked awesome! Fire freakin breathing freakin tuba!
GLASS PAINTING!
That seems much more appropriate for old town warsaw. Although, I'm still not sure why the sign was in English. Either way I got a huge laugh out of it. But the shop keep still needs to replace the 'GL' lettering on the door. For now the door actually says "ASS PAINTING." Mind you, I'm not in any way against the idea of a business whose main goal is indeed livening up certain sets of buttocks with colorful ardor and panache, but I simply can't see the sustainability of such an enterprise, maybe in Warsaw...
I turn around and in my 360 degree view I see three gorgeous old catholic churches, a sort of fortress protecting Stare Miasto (the neighborhood of old town) a momument to someone I don't know for doing something I never learned in a language I can't read, a big open public space filled with restaurants and bars, plentiful youth with skateboards, guitars, and ice creams, and somewhere not so far off I hear polka. It sounds live. I gravitate toward the polka.
Open admission... I like Polka music. I especially love it when beer is involved, or when I'm in the former eastern block.
This polka sounds mildly strange, like only the tuba is live. When I find it around the corner I see that indeed it's only a tuba. He's got a boombox with him. Although, something else is strange about this guy...
FIRE IS COMING OUT OF HIS TUBA! What the hell is going on? Fire breathing Tuba. I'm pretty sure that sealed the deal. I love Warsaw.
I had to sit and watch for a little while. It turns out that I was in a slightly touristy area, but the locals hang out there too. This fire-breathing tuba guy doesn't seem to be run of the mill. A lot of people were looking at him. I was sitting and wondering what sort of contraption he rigged to make his tuba breathe fire. I also wondered how he'd tuned his tuba to keep it from being incredibly sharp. I took another walk around the block and came back to see the fire-breathing tuba from the other side. I walked very close behind him and found that he welded a contraption onto the bell of his tuba so that when he presses a small button with his left hand it releases some gas and flame. He was pressing the button when he was playing notes to give the impression that he was breathing fire. But it really looked awesome! Fire freakin breathing freakin tuba!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
A walk on Beirut's seaboard at night
After getting "stuck" in Lebanon for five days before heading on to Paris I finally got a ticket to to fly. For a brief moment I considered an overland trip from Beirut to Belgium, but that would have been
a) expensive
b) timely
c) less fun than my fantasies may have suggested.
So I waited to get a plane ticket. It turns out, that to get a "cheap" plane ticket you have to fly at painful o'clock. So I did. Thing is, that my flight was at 4:50 AM. That meant I needed to be at the airport by about 3:00 AM. So I decided that I'd go into Beirut with my cousin(s) and we'd hang out until a late hour, then he'd take me to the airport. We left the village at about 9PM and got into beirut about 9:45PM. We picked up another friend (who also happens to be a cousin) and the three of us set out for a shopping mall. I had nothing to do with this decision. However, my one cousin who was driving had a girl to go see. She works in said shopping mall. So now the four of us are out in Beirut with no mission. This, I should point out, is not the lebanese way. Usually there is some place or some activity in mind. I guess for my cousin, picking up a girl and dropping me off at the airport were the objectives. Somehow we missed that whole 5 hour span in the middle.
In any case, we drove around gemayze (beirut's party district) and didn't stop. We almost drove up to Jounieh (definitely my vote, I love jounieh) but didn't. In the end, we drove down the coastline a short way past the american university of beirut, past some old rundown buildings, past the old ramada inn and found a nice arguilleh bar and restaurant by the sea.
Quick Aside, I know I've mentioned it before, but the old ramada inn in downtown beirut is amazing. It's completely riddled bull of old mortar shells and bullet holes. And it's sitting amidst some of the most beautifully rebuilt pieces of downtown. It's really something to see. It reminds me of how horrible war is, but somehow it's a real piece of hope since it's STILL standing. If you can't knock down a major chain hotel over the course of nearly 20 years, you can't defeat the city in which it stands. Anyway, enough romanticizing.
We get to a restaurant and I immediately see Kibbeh Naye (raw meat) on the menu and jump on it. My cousins and random girl joining us were surprised that I'd eat such a thing. Come on people, it was on the damn menu. It's not like I asked for something illicit that no one would ever eat... Anyway, the common practice in Lebanon is to drink Arak with kibbeh naye to, you know, "kill the germs." So I ordered that. What!? No alcohol here? Isn't this an overpriced smoking lounge on the sea? It is? And you don't carry the national beverage? Not even if I ask for it "off the menu?" W. T. and F? So I sat and ate my raw meat which of course was delicious and drank a 7up. I felt like a kid. Here ibn ghazi, have your sandwich and your 7up while the adults smoke from pipes. A bit lame. BUT, there is a bright spot just ahead.
After the restaurant we went for late night coffee and tea (always a good thing) and parked right on the seaboard. Beirut has really done a nice job with the oceanfront recently. So we took a stroll for the remaining few hours. My cousin and his girl took off way ahead so they could "talk" (which apparently is exactly what they did...) and my other cousin and I walked far behind telling dirty jokes and talking about Lebanon's future developments. It's a beautiful stroll. IF you get a chance to be in Beirut at about 2AM go for a walk down on the seaboard and catch a glimpse of all the young folks smoking the arguilleh, drinking tea, and playing backgammon with fiendish intensity uncharacteristic of all the other activities taking place. I almost decided to get into a backgammon game, but I don't trust the guys who play every day for money and have a far greater knowledge of good cheats than I.
a) expensive
b) timely
c) less fun than my fantasies may have suggested.
So I waited to get a plane ticket. It turns out, that to get a "cheap" plane ticket you have to fly at painful o'clock. So I did. Thing is, that my flight was at 4:50 AM. That meant I needed to be at the airport by about 3:00 AM. So I decided that I'd go into Beirut with my cousin(s) and we'd hang out until a late hour, then he'd take me to the airport. We left the village at about 9PM and got into beirut about 9:45PM. We picked up another friend (who also happens to be a cousin) and the three of us set out for a shopping mall. I had nothing to do with this decision. However, my one cousin who was driving had a girl to go see. She works in said shopping mall. So now the four of us are out in Beirut with no mission. This, I should point out, is not the lebanese way. Usually there is some place or some activity in mind. I guess for my cousin, picking up a girl and dropping me off at the airport were the objectives. Somehow we missed that whole 5 hour span in the middle.
In any case, we drove around gemayze (beirut's party district) and didn't stop. We almost drove up to Jounieh (definitely my vote, I love jounieh) but didn't. In the end, we drove down the coastline a short way past the american university of beirut, past some old rundown buildings, past the old ramada inn and found a nice arguilleh bar and restaurant by the sea.
Quick Aside, I know I've mentioned it before, but the old ramada inn in downtown beirut is amazing. It's completely riddled bull of old mortar shells and bullet holes. And it's sitting amidst some of the most beautifully rebuilt pieces of downtown. It's really something to see. It reminds me of how horrible war is, but somehow it's a real piece of hope since it's STILL standing. If you can't knock down a major chain hotel over the course of nearly 20 years, you can't defeat the city in which it stands. Anyway, enough romanticizing.
We get to a restaurant and I immediately see Kibbeh Naye (raw meat) on the menu and jump on it. My cousins and random girl joining us were surprised that I'd eat such a thing. Come on people, it was on the damn menu. It's not like I asked for something illicit that no one would ever eat... Anyway, the common practice in Lebanon is to drink Arak with kibbeh naye to, you know, "kill the germs." So I ordered that. What!? No alcohol here? Isn't this an overpriced smoking lounge on the sea? It is? And you don't carry the national beverage? Not even if I ask for it "off the menu?" W. T. and F? So I sat and ate my raw meat which of course was delicious and drank a 7up. I felt like a kid. Here ibn ghazi, have your sandwich and your 7up while the adults smoke from pipes. A bit lame. BUT, there is a bright spot just ahead.
After the restaurant we went for late night coffee and tea (always a good thing) and parked right on the seaboard. Beirut has really done a nice job with the oceanfront recently. So we took a stroll for the remaining few hours. My cousin and his girl took off way ahead so they could "talk" (which apparently is exactly what they did...) and my other cousin and I walked far behind telling dirty jokes and talking about Lebanon's future developments. It's a beautiful stroll. IF you get a chance to be in Beirut at about 2AM go for a walk down on the seaboard and catch a glimpse of all the young folks smoking the arguilleh, drinking tea, and playing backgammon with fiendish intensity uncharacteristic of all the other activities taking place. I almost decided to get into a backgammon game, but I don't trust the guys who play every day for money and have a far greater knowledge of good cheats than I.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Regant Lake Palace Hotel in Kollam
Ok, back to India again. I never really finished blogging about my trip with Yvonne down India's west coast. I'm still missing the entire Kerala portion. So, after the bomb on the plane from kingfisher airlines (still bitter that they have an airline by the way) on the plane from bangalore, we made it to Trivandrum (thiruvananthupuram) and had booked a hotel in Kollam. Kollam is only about 80km north of trivandrum, but the bus takes a long time to get there. Somehow, everything is really slow in India, even on good roads.
So we get out of the airport, find a cab to the bus station, and find the bus to kollam. Luckily these buses go every few minutes. So, for a matter of $2 or something small like that, we were on our way to the Regant Lake Palace Hotel on a small bus with all our luggage. Fast forward 2 hours later and there we were.
Regant Lake Palace Hotel, somehow evokes everything that a tourist should expect from India. It's a beautiful hotel in the middle of nowhere (actuall between the arabian sea and a lake) which is horribly decorated and has a staff full of people who WANT to be helpful, but simply aren't. They really were sweet people, but simply not a clue about anything. Quick example: It was the Malayalam New Year or maybe the Kerala New Year (I can't keep them straight) and this meant 10 days of blaring devotional music playing at ear splitting level. We were put on the side of the hotel where the music was. The speaker blaring this annoyance was hoisted way into a tree that was approximately 40 ft high (ie the level of the hotel room). We asked to be moved to the other side (as there were no other guests in our hotel) and the bellhop said the music was coming from the other side and it would be louder there. What a f'ing idiot. He didn't even check, he just called the front desk and described (incorrectly) where our room was. Did I mention this music starts at 5AM and ends at 1AM? Did I mention that most of it isn't really music, but more high pitched wailing and drums? Did I mention that I hate high pitched indian singing? Did I mention that they didn't change our side of the hotel? Did I mention that this was the second new year this year? Bizarre.
Anyway, the hotel was really lovely, great breakfast (included in the room price) and was on a lake. Did I mention they have their own private island (about 5000 m^2 which is to say extremely tiny for an island)?
So we get out of the airport, find a cab to the bus station, and find the bus to kollam. Luckily these buses go every few minutes. So, for a matter of $2 or something small like that, we were on our way to the Regant Lake Palace Hotel on a small bus with all our luggage. Fast forward 2 hours later and there we were.
Regant Lake Palace Hotel, somehow evokes everything that a tourist should expect from India. It's a beautiful hotel in the middle of nowhere (actuall between the arabian sea and a lake) which is horribly decorated and has a staff full of people who WANT to be helpful, but simply aren't. They really were sweet people, but simply not a clue about anything. Quick example: It was the Malayalam New Year or maybe the Kerala New Year (I can't keep them straight) and this meant 10 days of blaring devotional music playing at ear splitting level. We were put on the side of the hotel where the music was. The speaker blaring this annoyance was hoisted way into a tree that was approximately 40 ft high (ie the level of the hotel room). We asked to be moved to the other side (as there were no other guests in our hotel) and the bellhop said the music was coming from the other side and it would be louder there. What a f'ing idiot. He didn't even check, he just called the front desk and described (incorrectly) where our room was. Did I mention this music starts at 5AM and ends at 1AM? Did I mention that most of it isn't really music, but more high pitched wailing and drums? Did I mention that I hate high pitched indian singing? Did I mention that they didn't change our side of the hotel? Did I mention that this was the second new year this year? Bizarre.
Anyway, the hotel was really lovely, great breakfast (included in the room price) and was on a lake. Did I mention they have their own private island (about 5000 m^2 which is to say extremely tiny for an island)?
Warsaw
Hello readers! I apologize for the inordinately long delay in my blogging. I've been bouncing around western europe and arrived recently in warsaw where I'm staying at the Institute of Mathematics of the Polish National Academy (IMPAN).
I took an overnight train from Utrecht, Netherlands to Warsaw Central station. I was shocked that the train came directly. In fact, I think the train went all the way to Moscow, but I decided that since my entire euro vacation was built on the premise that I'd be giving a talk in Warsaw and attending a conference later, that I'd better not miss it... That would really be signing my mathematical death warrant. As it is I'm on pretty thin ice.
So, Warsaw... I got here on Sunday morning. Noone here at the institute, no internet, no phone, no map... I asked around for a long time just to find the institute. Found it. Checked in, set down my bags, went exploring.
So it Warsaw, what is the first thing I find? Why yes, a shawarma place owned by a jordanian where I had to order my food in arabic. Of course, that screams Poland to me.
Although I was really happy with that, because it turns out that Jordanian Arabic sounds really similar to Lebanese Arabic except that Jordanians sound a lot angrier. I ate my shawarma (with no tomato!!!!) and chatted with a guy who loves the united states more than any self respecting jordanian should. That also made me happy. Then he gave me a true jordanian show. He told me about a nightclub close by that he really loves because of "the bitches." Oh warsaw, you excite me.
Ok, back to work on my talk. Done with work, what's next? Vietnamese food of course! I found a vietnamese place very close by. They were out of Pho! (clark then exudes a long cry) and finds an english speaker who tells me chmielna street (about 20 minutes walking) has a lot of vietnamese restaurants. Off I go! Ask away, ask away. How to I get to Chmielna street? Oh, you don't speak english either...
Finally I made it. Funny thing, lots of bars, no vietnamese places. What I did find however, was that chmielna was back in what looked like some alley from the main road. It turns out that there are lots of "it looks like an alley" streets in warsaw. I decided to spend about 4 hours last night going up and down them seeing what I could find.
Interesting finds so far:
1) Winairnia Tblisi.
I recognized the first word meant winery or something related to wine. The second word is the capital city of Georgia (not the Atlanta one, the eastern european country). Sure enough, a store, and wine bar full of nothing but wines from georgia... Didn't know they had 100 wineries.
2) Beautifully conserved catholic churches next to stalin era statues of workers. Industrial workers promoting the well fare of society (clearly).
3) Warsaw is an eastern block city which is modernizing very quickly. I actually really like it, and am excited to see what I find this week.
I took an overnight train from Utrecht, Netherlands to Warsaw Central station. I was shocked that the train came directly. In fact, I think the train went all the way to Moscow, but I decided that since my entire euro vacation was built on the premise that I'd be giving a talk in Warsaw and attending a conference later, that I'd better not miss it... That would really be signing my mathematical death warrant. As it is I'm on pretty thin ice.
So, Warsaw... I got here on Sunday morning. Noone here at the institute, no internet, no phone, no map... I asked around for a long time just to find the institute. Found it. Checked in, set down my bags, went exploring.
So it Warsaw, what is the first thing I find? Why yes, a shawarma place owned by a jordanian where I had to order my food in arabic. Of course, that screams Poland to me.
Although I was really happy with that, because it turns out that Jordanian Arabic sounds really similar to Lebanese Arabic except that Jordanians sound a lot angrier. I ate my shawarma (with no tomato!!!!) and chatted with a guy who loves the united states more than any self respecting jordanian should. That also made me happy. Then he gave me a true jordanian show. He told me about a nightclub close by that he really loves because of "the bitches." Oh warsaw, you excite me.
Ok, back to work on my talk. Done with work, what's next? Vietnamese food of course! I found a vietnamese place very close by. They were out of Pho! (clark then exudes a long cry) and finds an english speaker who tells me chmielna street (about 20 minutes walking) has a lot of vietnamese restaurants. Off I go! Ask away, ask away. How to I get to Chmielna street? Oh, you don't speak english either...
Finally I made it. Funny thing, lots of bars, no vietnamese places. What I did find however, was that chmielna was back in what looked like some alley from the main road. It turns out that there are lots of "it looks like an alley" streets in warsaw. I decided to spend about 4 hours last night going up and down them seeing what I could find.
Interesting finds so far:
1) Winairnia Tblisi.
I recognized the first word meant winery or something related to wine. The second word is the capital city of Georgia (not the Atlanta one, the eastern european country). Sure enough, a store, and wine bar full of nothing but wines from georgia... Didn't know they had 100 wineries.
2) Beautifully conserved catholic churches next to stalin era statues of workers. Industrial workers promoting the well fare of society (clearly).
3) Warsaw is an eastern block city which is modernizing very quickly. I actually really like it, and am excited to see what I find this week.
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