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.
Monday, May 17, 2010
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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