tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-157554362024-03-07T10:05:35.486-08:00Dave's DigglingsRandom diggings from the mind of Dave.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-5968174895654392642011-11-04T11:27:00.000-07:002011-11-04T11:27:09.483-07:00A Week in Istanbul<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Istanbul. The name itself conjures up exotic imagery and a deep sense of history. Deservedly so, as it has been a capital city of three successive empires and can boast over 2,000 years of history. In addition, its location on two continents, the crossroads between Europe and Asia, provides a stunning and culturally diverse backdrop to the world's 7th largest city. It's no wonder that today Istanbul is one of the world's top tourist destinations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I was fortunate enough to spend a week in Istanbul earlier this year and despite my best efforts to see as much as humanly possible, I got the sense that I had barely scratched the surface. Most of the tourists I met planned to spend only two to three days in this marvelous city, a mistake of epic proportions in my books. Yet, in a way their hurry worked in my favour, as once I got away from the major tourist sights the crowds thinned considerably, allowing for an intimate look into the people and neighbourhoods of a truly remarkable city.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">What follows is a look back at my week in Istanbul told through words and photographs. The photos are in small format to fit the proportions of my blog, but can be viewed in larger format simply by clicking on the individual picture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b><u>Preamble</u></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">First things first: yes everyone in Istanbul (and all of Turkey for that matter) will try to sell you a carpet. And yes they have a special price just for you.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hello My Friend, free to look!"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't be irritated or put-off. It's just the way it is. After a while you can't help but find it amusing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><u><b>The Big Three - Hagia Sophia, The Blue Mosque, Topkapi Palace</b></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The three main tourist attractions in Istanbul are located a short walk from each other in the old town (Sultanahmet). Each is a marvel in its own right, and as a result is overrun with hoardes of tourists. Be prepared to be pushed aside by noisy school groups, stuck behind slow moving grandmothers on tour and hearded like cattle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Most people will try to see the big three in one day. To me that doesn't do them justice, simply because of the exhaustion brought on by fighting the crowds. In order to appreciate each place to the fullest, I opted to visit them one by one on different mornings when the crowds are smaller. Then, when I was about ready to rip the head off of some idiot sitting on a "please do not sit here" sign, I would head out to some less visited sight for a calming cocktail.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><b>Hagia Sophia</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you plan to visit Istanbul and Hagia Sophia is not at the top of your "must see" list then you may as well rip up your ticket and go home. Not only is it stunningly beautiful, but Hagia Sophia is one of the most extraordinary buildings in the history of architecture.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hagia Sophia from Sultanahmet Square</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hagia Sophia overlooking the Bosphorus Strait</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With its 56m high dome Hagia Sophia is the fourth largest cathedral in the world (after Saint Paul in London, Saint Peter in Rome and the Duomo in Milan). However, quite incredibly, it was built more than 1000 years before the others. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Truly Breathtaking Space</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The current structure was built as a cathedral in 537 by Emperor Justinian. After the fall of Constantinople in 1453, Sultan Mehmed Conqueror turned it into a Mosque and built the four minarets at the outside corners of the building.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">56m High</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dome</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">The walls are adorned with two large circular plates where the names "Allah" and "Muhammed" are written in Arabic. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A stunning view from the upper galleries</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">There are splendid Byzantine mosaics in a gallery on the second level. Visitors must pass through a security gate to enter the gallery where they are reminded not to use flash photography. As you near the mosaics there are large signs posted on the walls in every language imaginable prohibiting flash photography. Yet, when I approached the mosaics I was almost blinded by the constant flashing coming from moronic tourist's cameras. It's so bad that a security guard is posted under the mosaics all day long doing nothing but yelling "No Flash! No Flash!". I was tempted to join him, adding the use of abundant expletives, but chose instead to leave the mindless masses behind and find a quiet cafe.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flashy Byzantine Mosaics</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><b>The Blue Mosque</b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Located across Sultanahmet Square from Hagia Sophia is the beautiful Blue Mosque. It has an uncharacteristic 6 minarets. Legend has it that when the Sultan ordered its construction in the early 1600's, he asked for gold minarets. Apparently the Arabic word for gold is similar to the Arabic word for six, and the rest is comedic history.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful and Busy</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Mosque's interior is adorned with intricate tiles, not surprisingly accented primarily by blue tones. It was designed with over 270 windows providing brilliant light to play off the many different angles in the building.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite the modern way of life exhibited in Istanbul outside the Mosque, I couldn't help but be struck by a stark contrast on the inside. It's not necessarily my place to comment, but I gotta say it, "C'mon guys, isn't it about time you let the women hang out with the men?"</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQxckrOlLHBeD_lsSjRYuUseigTTIENcTliwI-Bj1WGYTsMY3P1mQhu5GyA9zn2W-RGvyy1nBLBW05yliH9-1JrTYJbgW7BBODD8f2jeQDL9RbmF6FdB75ImBUM3okjBGqcgiGw/s1600/IMGP1386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQxckrOlLHBeD_lsSjRYuUseigTTIENcTliwI-Bj1WGYTsMY3P1mQhu5GyA9zn2W-RGvyy1nBLBW05yliH9-1JrTYJbgW7BBODD8f2jeQDL9RbmF6FdB75ImBUM3okjBGqcgiGw/s200/IMGP1386.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A woman's place</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZ2cVmhwtTbFQFH8VQoA0_7DRffL4hLXj4sDLMO9lo91uZklA4IaygrqvZUM7vN4u5Qz-Zu3LfHVaJBxMLtutumkKV4_nak2TY0qxvGtp6rYQUuG__a8d8PQFKibBvdqn-iwggw/s1600/IMGP1388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZ2cVmhwtTbFQFH8VQoA0_7DRffL4hLXj4sDLMO9lo91uZklA4IaygrqvZUM7vN4u5Qz-Zu3LfHVaJBxMLtutumkKV4_nak2TY0qxvGtp6rYQUuG__a8d8PQFKibBvdqn-iwggw/s320/IMGP1388.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out of sight and way at the back</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Topkapi Palace</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The last of the big three is by no means the least. Topkapi Palace was constructed soon after the fall of Constantinople and remained the residence of the Sultans until the mid 1800's.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuUx27ij51KGPWaDaJ0Lm4q6MGkRfwZU1Zz3bvbSlQJw1woMcCEnNnXqrgrnhuQA_pnlX9TpG9WtdToVUUMl66yrABVbrl88ubvLYEzylzz4sJ40g5N8H8N9TG6kBJaduykPDGiA/s1600/IMGP1590_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuUx27ij51KGPWaDaJ0Lm4q6MGkRfwZU1Zz3bvbSlQJw1woMcCEnNnXqrgrnhuQA_pnlX9TpG9WtdToVUUMl66yrABVbrl88ubvLYEzylzz4sJ40g5N8H8N9TG6kBJaduykPDGiA/s400/IMGP1590_edited-1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Topkapi Palace sits high above the meeting of the Bosphorus with the Sea of Marmara </td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The palace is a sprawling complex as it used to house, in addition to the Sultan's residences, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 16px;"> a hospital, bakery, arsenal, state mint, a part of the treasury and more. Give yourself plenty of time to wander around the entire site.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEk1iht0MM_4kdAYQuJT4Lh-7YSZlX4yUEx3YfJM71oExIav0VHazqGH1mryzL8Gl3HPkJ9iC0P3kgS_b51I6R0ZKnNWwYs-J9cXeIwKt2tSEjKKpplDkwJVa1h3UtHsJTDmHhQg/s1600/IMGP1499_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEk1iht0MM_4kdAYQuJT4Lh-7YSZlX4yUEx3YfJM71oExIav0VHazqGH1mryzL8Gl3HPkJ9iC0P3kgS_b51I6R0ZKnNWwYs-J9cXeIwKt2tSEjKKpplDkwJVa1h3UtHsJTDmHhQg/s200/IMGP1499_edited-1.JPG" width="133" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij41LmfD10J_9eYQtkIRuzd8jH_7gosrX75MC-rtLFafH1ixFBALj2RV_pCV2A4RK3LkZ26G-PS69NEmOvjzqcGZ_qXctUdHcZWoHwDK0NuYM_Wd1Ev1mLQiRPmwuiumjjy3XulQ/s1600/IMGP1493_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij41LmfD10J_9eYQtkIRuzd8jH_7gosrX75MC-rtLFafH1ixFBALj2RV_pCV2A4RK3LkZ26G-PS69NEmOvjzqcGZ_qXctUdHcZWoHwDK0NuYM_Wd1Ev1mLQiRPmwuiumjjy3XulQ/s200/IMGP1493_edited-1.JPG" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeUS6Jh800ShvHoGgQXDJx4PYr421ezDZR74ATpD-uQslGTqy8bOZf8uFE7BSpb5TliKczRePFFHNRHl5F9L3LxRMawBL_KiabVl1tuuC35P7kHXCVwRivTj4F66w9HuwrcixIw/s1600/IMGP1486_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeUS6Jh800ShvHoGgQXDJx4PYr421ezDZR74ATpD-uQslGTqy8bOZf8uFE7BSpb5TliKczRePFFHNRHl5F9L3LxRMawBL_KiabVl1tuuC35P7kHXCVwRivTj4F66w9HuwrcixIw/s1600/IMGP1486_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeUS6Jh800ShvHoGgQXDJx4PYr421ezDZR74ATpD-uQslGTqy8bOZf8uFE7BSpb5TliKczRePFFHNRHl5F9L3LxRMawBL_KiabVl1tuuC35P7kHXCVwRivTj4F66w9HuwrcixIw/s200/IMGP1486_edited-1.JPG" width="133" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was particularly struck by the beautiful tile work in the Sultan's residences and the harem. It seems almost garish when viewed out of context, but in their place the designs are ornate and tasteful Have a look at some of the photos here and you just may find yourself transported back to a different time and place; when men were manly and women were "well kept".</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNesZPRK2ntArdvsC_3wUWO_YuJmUsb0ksMOhOm8N3J7zeDVX7hX2hWqEE2DyuD0oIZcWJPqAWE-tXDj6n8Vg6L_YfpBv0jt-9cawD0F3HdVlynnjPdewREG_Z1isNWIPgMSh4xg/s1600/IMGP1505_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNesZPRK2ntArdvsC_3wUWO_YuJmUsb0ksMOhOm8N3J7zeDVX7hX2hWqEE2DyuD0oIZcWJPqAWE-tXDj6n8Vg6L_YfpBv0jt-9cawD0F3HdVlynnjPdewREG_Z1isNWIPgMSh4xg/s320/IMGP1505_edited-1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3GjAyBP9QdayeSffT_iuHc2pOK-d80p5WY39KurRYVZJ3GH6oW-HQBmcLEHZXOXvDNbGdGaULEdmRBg5NAeDU0e0ZRkGMtuaTeuMVNDO43ogChZGA_TLlIYr0lw-Ho8vHLVYEQ/s1600/IMGP1473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3GjAyBP9QdayeSffT_iuHc2pOK-d80p5WY39KurRYVZJ3GH6oW-HQBmcLEHZXOXvDNbGdGaULEdmRBg5NAeDU0e0ZRkGMtuaTeuMVNDO43ogChZGA_TLlIYr0lw-Ho8vHLVYEQ/s200/IMGP1473.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7IbK3ZQ8_-TTqoe050PvEUDExCV6AJbGgwIhOXaKjc-xOT1-uzjHzTWIGK4ufAp6bpTxA9Xj3_ogA02FPtNWug4PuDo36QknWPdK4d_SM3PHZWYgDecH79O8J6iAzrzB_J51xQ/s1600/IMGP1503_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7IbK3ZQ8_-TTqoe050PvEUDExCV6AJbGgwIhOXaKjc-xOT1-uzjHzTWIGK4ufAp6bpTxA9Xj3_ogA02FPtNWug4PuDo36QknWPdK4d_SM3PHZWYgDecH79O8J6iAzrzB_J51xQ/s320/IMGP1503_edited-1.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FG1NoSruUPiqwJiVCux1wkLTCEmzE32BA_3tbsI8dAZor8PYgBuBDfFgQw8ZIyv-59WAy0ekg2SHz2WZGrm1lNPgUV-SzyO0eR5avNtRsgNFfFqkYEbwYTAtjVAHFO0OFyt_pg/s1600/IMGP1460_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-FG1NoSruUPiqwJiVCux1wkLTCEmzE32BA_3tbsI8dAZor8PYgBuBDfFgQw8ZIyv-59WAy0ekg2SHz2WZGrm1lNPgUV-SzyO0eR5avNtRsgNFfFqkYEbwYTAtjVAHFO0OFyt_pg/s320/IMGP1460_edited-1.JPG" width="214" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">The highlight of the palace is unmistakably the harem, so much so that there's a separate entry fee just for it. I found the very idea of a harem fascinating as I come from a part of the world where monogamy is, and always has been, the norm (unless you're a Mormon). So I took extra time to sit in the expansive harem courtyard, imagining what it would be like to stroll along gazing up at all the women who were hoping to be the one to catch my fancy that day. I decided that the Sultans were probably very tired most of the time.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtWHqlTdszl3G54WCB6vY0-z_cFeKtawqVmxew7ceaBr7LrIHCykwtAV-TrpB2qBW3BqEo-02U7YCcX-SA4tv68cCR4h_bMKwJzS2wQxJRnp_8CiGhfpFNo_dOLpy48w24B-jnGg/s1600/IMGP1509_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtWHqlTdszl3G54WCB6vY0-z_cFeKtawqVmxew7ceaBr7LrIHCykwtAV-TrpB2qBW3BqEo-02U7YCcX-SA4tv68cCR4h_bMKwJzS2wQxJRnp_8CiGhfpFNo_dOLpy48w24B-jnGg/s400/IMGP1509_edited-1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Harem Courtyard - a little lower key today</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><b><u>The Bazaars</u></b></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">People love to shop, and in Istanbul it's no different, except that their version of the shopping mall is the Bazaar. I found the Bazaars exotic fascinating slices of Turkish life. Mind you, to the average resident of Istanbul they are probably as rudimentary as Walmart and The Gap are to me. I wonder if there's a Turkish equivalent to the Mall Rat?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>Grand Bazaar</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">This place is a marvel. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">The Grand Bazaar is one of the the largest covered markets in the world, with 4400 shops in 64 streets and with 22 gates</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"> (entrances). It was started in the late 1400's and has grown outward in a rather haphazard manner, creating a labyrinth of corridors to confuse even the most experienced orienteer.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgni_fYKmpx726FIcJ9qCgt9vWIZUl2MbsCke9LxBidIbhL8uVa1InX81pMq00pG6hZOHG7bNNPQhP7cVM1R311h8KTXtXf6CPizkRNOdfQVHqc0EuQacbw-R_u_U2x6BDFlX1_nA/s1600/IMGP1414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgni_fYKmpx726FIcJ9qCgt9vWIZUl2MbsCke9LxBidIbhL8uVa1InX81pMq00pG6hZOHG7bNNPQhP7cVM1R311h8KTXtXf6CPizkRNOdfQVHqc0EuQacbw-R_u_U2x6BDFlX1_nA/s320/IMGP1414.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Grand Bazaar - let's shop!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Needless to say, the most common items for sale in the Grand Bazaar are carpets, but you can find almost anything amongst these ancient corridors, as you can see in the following photos.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYWGdcu4tf0me3SCZs9-7Q9W755lhLGqwVzVscpeYXiKVvsex-WVyDxr5JTBz5Tct9NH9_ynL-IeaFFBovSboyMizU7SnR3vD9PyJY4xh57QkFtsWlqmPQ5iSoo7lLlxr6kLi-A/s1600/IMGP1412_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYWGdcu4tf0me3SCZs9-7Q9W755lhLGqwVzVscpeYXiKVvsex-WVyDxr5JTBz5Tct9NH9_ynL-IeaFFBovSboyMizU7SnR3vD9PyJY4xh57QkFtsWlqmPQ5iSoo7lLlxr6kLi-A/s320/IMGP1412_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carpets, carpets and more carpets</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8TFSj01wbFxv71HNKghmmdNiSrjmvpa1Qv8jsHWyxQX8t6v73SRfWiy5x-5_a5JqC19UkAx8wc6mQXF_6CBFNMKjT9wyzW-2c6suKO3RtYcs1c2LwXh5mOEKWJFy_Zf8KS7Ngg/s1600/IMGP1413_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8TFSj01wbFxv71HNKghmmdNiSrjmvpa1Qv8jsHWyxQX8t6v73SRfWiy5x-5_a5JqC19UkAx8wc6mQXF_6CBFNMKjT9wyzW-2c6suKO3RtYcs1c2LwXh5mOEKWJFy_Zf8KS7Ngg/s320/IMGP1413_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bangles were also popular</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4bIV7tbMGYEKyrHZynt-WkT-lHV4jCD6Bi7xDc7M6hS7x1tsKXOEYf_awLSKCjObyPk0vsW3eBDEPtaZ2EgrX8pM0hKMAAkjYY_2d-i3jogYUN-zIHVkpDxo24iZmnLd-upnuA/s1600/IMGP1421_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4bIV7tbMGYEKyrHZynt-WkT-lHV4jCD6Bi7xDc7M6hS7x1tsKXOEYf_awLSKCjObyPk0vsW3eBDEPtaZ2EgrX8pM0hKMAAkjYY_2d-i3jogYUN-zIHVkpDxo24iZmnLd-upnuA/s320/IMGP1421_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love the juxtaposition of catholic religious figures with Hookah pipes</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64ocSp3Y2h7HCdV7BT1APj2n-miDQnugkPpdv2bXwozSuItoHeWTJY7EwCc5fjKyq5vDNG6hxFgWDZDav1XkPGevt7ledzFRFPp5nMjC5lnyACW8mgLTIq8jNdFGdSZlgW71oYw/s1600/IMGP1422_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64ocSp3Y2h7HCdV7BT1APj2n-miDQnugkPpdv2bXwozSuItoHeWTJY7EwCc5fjKyq5vDNG6hxFgWDZDav1XkPGevt7ledzFRFPp5nMjC5lnyACW8mgLTIq8jNdFGdSZlgW71oYw/s320/IMGP1422_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every little boy wants to be a Sultan for Halloween</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmqIGQI5RCsam9bE0CMsbH8oxxJT-UJNouXcZRFICpetbAecM92DzJMUHJ9jc76ZKBxJOq0hQu3-nyGcvNK9R7KgSP-htZQosw5-cktx1q5C5tiX82Jye8L4k52ymoGM-uuRcYQ/s1600/IMGP1419_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmqIGQI5RCsam9bE0CMsbH8oxxJT-UJNouXcZRFICpetbAecM92DzJMUHJ9jc76ZKBxJOq0hQu3-nyGcvNK9R7KgSP-htZQosw5-cktx1q5C5tiX82Jye8L4k52ymoGM-uuRcYQ/s320/IMGP1419_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">These girls took a wrong turn at Albuquerque</span></td></tr>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spice Bazaar</span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">The Spice Bazaar is located adjacent to the harbour near the foot of the Galata Bridge. It's not as big as the Grand Bazaar, but is arguably more interesting as it is where a wide variety of food and spices are sold. It's most lively (and less crowded with tourists) first thing in the morning when the shops are being set up and the various items are being delivered. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaQWqcXpHv2yNgaytli5YgEUMkNRzNojgK0Cp1dPCcQVaYMc9xJq9oa2X8Zt2rloCJrRXtMo8r0Z20s25sO6t3ve9NupUBOVJukH8tJCnmgrwJm_D7vXXRpq_uW15wTAf1eF2hhw/s1600/IMGP1258_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaQWqcXpHv2yNgaytli5YgEUMkNRzNojgK0Cp1dPCcQVaYMc9xJq9oa2X8Zt2rloCJrRXtMo8r0Z20s25sO6t3ve9NupUBOVJukH8tJCnmgrwJm_D7vXXRpq_uW15wTAf1eF2hhw/s320/IMGP1258_edited-1.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Main Entrance</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-31FMtEPbrICwDl7Z5DmSCBV3y_HDl_8pTByj6P_gv3Aur5ZwyEFRcvdBNbFJgepi27OgpCjrvBwO1okoAoPj2jMgcky-HMGLyHSvmHmbgC_8h_6svl17APrkFMD1sUrsZCcdSg/s1600/IMGP1238_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-31FMtEPbrICwDl7Z5DmSCBV3y_HDl_8pTByj6P_gv3Aur5ZwyEFRcvdBNbFJgepi27OgpCjrvBwO1okoAoPj2jMgcky-HMGLyHSvmHmbgC_8h_6svl17APrkFMD1sUrsZCcdSg/s320/IMGP1238_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure I'd buy anything from these characters</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUrExahqOsvPJdI2b_G-G2UUOenU0W2ysNmX_MA2ZaWWGQZ6zwvXJuFOzFHpQGFvHkRfCIGanQUpogTC6LBq8B18n-BEV8cgrKAEoX1Za6Dp1ixPxlxUVtgcoGFr5Bc1p4AWlWQ/s1600/IMGP1239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUrExahqOsvPJdI2b_G-G2UUOenU0W2ysNmX_MA2ZaWWGQZ6zwvXJuFOzFHpQGFvHkRfCIGanQUpogTC6LBq8B18n-BEV8cgrKAEoX1Za6Dp1ixPxlxUVtgcoGFr5Bc1p4AWlWQ/s320/IMGP1239.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Couldn't think of an appropriately cheesy caption</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiht1SsUFTDCGBPGJmCKsrBVJD5RMgWb9lPfr_hDzMxa3TXKjHUmj2XbbT1hGarwuIAxdkvFVlaPx2gQBc0my90by4Ui80IpsiwfdtBklGDAZXHJAivr52u8gd9bdhkTTVnrv3Csw/s1600/IMGP1241_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiht1SsUFTDCGBPGJmCKsrBVJD5RMgWb9lPfr_hDzMxa3TXKjHUmj2XbbT1hGarwuIAxdkvFVlaPx2gQBc0my90by4Ui80IpsiwfdtBklGDAZXHJAivr52u8gd9bdhkTTVnrv3Csw/s320/IMGP1241_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes you feel like a nut</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi199fBoDgGA4Jw741ALbUrhZH6a0LGB-WGVQSEAOH1ahG-e-_V8sV4Dyb-b2TZbJO1LJFv4-DW-q1vIheiTIAhjhjTMFkLNmPfWy8WAbRD8NBEtyobctulTguDjugTlnfSosg8Kw/s1600/IMGP1243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi199fBoDgGA4Jw741ALbUrhZH6a0LGB-WGVQSEAOH1ahG-e-_V8sV4Dyb-b2TZbJO1LJFv4-DW-q1vIheiTIAhjhjTMFkLNmPfWy8WAbRD8NBEtyobctulTguDjugTlnfSosg8Kw/s320/IMGP1243.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can pickle just about anything</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPpfMt7U8pR-Mpuew_Irqw-6bh2u6E5jAgFQe1f0SHTXbP6tFIIR9YSzz3Hchqwvd8D5zPOj6uK8a5HDakAbG-PUDj9TTALAZLHkJELyqL0KXcJOj0whbNb4vj7eTX5yOBQo5UA/s1600/IMGP1246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPpfMt7U8pR-Mpuew_Irqw-6bh2u6E5jAgFQe1f0SHTXbP6tFIIR9YSzz3Hchqwvd8D5zPOj6uK8a5HDakAbG-PUDj9TTALAZLHkJELyqL0KXcJOj0whbNb4vj7eTX5yOBQo5UA/s320/IMGP1246.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spices - what this bazaar is all about</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_Btu9H2qof9i52-r9rpkS4ToFo-j05nhFKY7IunbzeULCuo21qmaOSJ5hx-jM81SLsbGbH6VrvYPtYJV88eaOAtD7u4B9v4DFN-8msFHCJzFuMeSYAlM-QiLimYU8dEMbATrrQ/s1600/IMGP1250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_Btu9H2qof9i52-r9rpkS4ToFo-j05nhFKY7IunbzeULCuo21qmaOSJ5hx-jM81SLsbGbH6VrvYPtYJV88eaOAtD7u4B9v4DFN-8msFHCJzFuMeSYAlM-QiLimYU8dEMbATrrQ/s320/IMGP1250.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More bangles</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnuvDlZ9Z5VxU9b-YkjT9AQy1FUW2VbCiI-ARj2TuGWfo9OIEffj0Fp72xoBoVrIR9TUunx80dHRlOXL1gFZs4X8JoPfpGl_3thBMqQcv66HeOq-vx_e_Z3i1nOo3Ag9J-VM2ayw/s1600/IMGP1251_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnuvDlZ9Z5VxU9b-YkjT9AQy1FUW2VbCiI-ARj2TuGWfo9OIEffj0Fp72xoBoVrIR9TUunx80dHRlOXL1gFZs4X8JoPfpGl_3thBMqQcv66HeOq-vx_e_Z3i1nOo3Ag9J-VM2ayw/s200/IMGP1251_edited-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATq9_HV0TddYjHz7H4oEtXNe0R78l_r-eJyUWr4ObKJnpw56jfbEsOyFwmswH7Z9jOVouTIVPM9RCZO7Qqaj57wrlIXQqIklH19lb0ISmcEO5JSA8lIBTlIbS8h66WwyH9SZ7Ag/s1600/IMGP1252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATq9_HV0TddYjHz7H4oEtXNe0R78l_r-eJyUWr4ObKJnpw56jfbEsOyFwmswH7Z9jOVouTIVPM9RCZO7Qqaj57wrlIXQqIklH19lb0ISmcEO5JSA8lIBTlIbS8h66WwyH9SZ7Ag/s200/IMGP1252.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">snake oil galore</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_h1kuRqA0rSXNPr0tea-KOgUXWTqsUx2AAl3cUEKTvoJ1Wxib7p_-T9AIk4APNab-jwein2kWIyKn056RwZPS40iiqLftIv2BJcWOH7hduRWhSwL_z1Cpt0XNVd3N8Kp2yuYPQ/s1600/IMGP1253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_h1kuRqA0rSXNPr0tea-KOgUXWTqsUx2AAl3cUEKTvoJ1Wxib7p_-T9AIk4APNab-jwein2kWIyKn056RwZPS40iiqLftIv2BJcWOH7hduRWhSwL_z1Cpt0XNVd3N8Kp2yuYPQ/s320/IMGP1253.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Modern Apothecary</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3YDhK_k0sGDX6FHVoMiXflSCGUuBJiKn4Sz1rVsbiES05GmNy9Uxip72bLGmDB7oHMlDhYPaQthQO_iX6yDzKfdW313tledt92oMbrSoL35wBvFyfTLmKrOLGCFwL7nJmbNQsQ/s1600/IMGP1262.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3YDhK_k0sGDX6FHVoMiXflSCGUuBJiKn4Sz1rVsbiES05GmNy9Uxip72bLGmDB7oHMlDhYPaQthQO_iX6yDzKfdW313tledt92oMbrSoL35wBvFyfTLmKrOLGCFwL7nJmbNQsQ/s400/IMGP1262.JPG" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Prof. Dr. Suluk recommends leaches for all of your medicinal needs!</span></td></tr>
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<b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Other Sights</span></u></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px;">Dolmabahce Palace</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">When the Sultans left Topkapi Palace, they relocated to the more modern Dolmabahce Palace on the banks of the Bosphorus across the harbour from </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sultanahmet</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZZLHRF4PBFu5F8gA4PG7vfdLhSMv4YWE3K1tIxI6hqCECUyLsNjoeO5qSfxbh-mPvceajkN2VELT_LZQLtaMV9owcwRvtAKW4Rmi7i5ZsgFXEX7fl_2nhrdlIFsctvAzSWWvRA/s1600/IMGP1613_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZZLHRF4PBFu5F8gA4PG7vfdLhSMv4YWE3K1tIxI6hqCECUyLsNjoeO5qSfxbh-mPvceajkN2VELT_LZQLtaMV9owcwRvtAKW4Rmi7i5ZsgFXEX7fl_2nhrdlIFsctvAzSWWvRA/s400/IMGP1613_edited-1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not bad digs</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">The style of the palace reflects European influences, the result of the Sultans (and Turkey) becoming more friendly with their neighbours to the west. Probably the most notable influences are French, and the Dolmabahce is often referred to as the Versailles of the east. There are countless stunning rooms, ornately decorated and loaded with furniture and accessories from around the world. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DFDF6R-MlVLS8TjgQQ5bIUsaMPOR4_XFfeJ5NWXdXxE8QJeta7DjvdDqagTkPXDcO0NTV01Oe3bleGTJzlBHQ1wr29hnbJOo6GPyzAFLfDGbqZ4XoiqUO0QqIm2CBdChzeeA4g/s1600/IMGP1765_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DFDF6R-MlVLS8TjgQQ5bIUsaMPOR4_XFfeJ5NWXdXxE8QJeta7DjvdDqagTkPXDcO0NTV01Oe3bleGTJzlBHQ1wr29hnbJOo6GPyzAFLfDGbqZ4XoiqUO0QqIm2CBdChzeeA4g/s320/IMGP1765_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Grand Entrance</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Visiting the palace can be a bit of an ordeal, however, as entrance is only granted via a guided tours. That, and they make you wear pink plastic booties over your shoes. So everyone bunches up at the main entrance until the tour in their particular language is called, at which time a stampede of plastic booty clad tourists pushes through a single turnstile and is quickly hearded from room to room. The complete tour is actually done in two parts so the whole scene is repeated a second time for the tour of the harem. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Taking photos is strictly prohibited anywhere inside the palace, so all I can show you are some pictures of the grounds. Even so, not bad digs. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMz2h7cCvh0Het_yP338cH5rREE1Bl9cxtYXT18OXDmtjzFVHYoVFNBsKYUIeKQzSB2sDrfeQdUQJG0Gz5_reCsDykjhFMoPYzSXYr9E1O7LdPQJcTMzzIg9mkQexZre3E_tNH2g/s1600/IMGP1774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMz2h7cCvh0Het_yP338cH5rREE1Bl9cxtYXT18OXDmtjzFVHYoVFNBsKYUIeKQzSB2sDrfeQdUQJG0Gz5_reCsDykjhFMoPYzSXYr9E1O7LdPQJcTMzzIg9mkQexZre3E_tNH2g/s400/IMGP1774.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lone sentry guards the gate to the Bosphorus</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBumERHxmrtVrL2ufHL-Cu_wlqBuR1TldYo2weMkOQgEw3PLnjYrKv_AkEsZ60GtwNdPrtH9owCAqMERyKJzqJPuMBZOGY6ezmQGvu2K1uBw_AsHI4JdjBtNMpttz7oD6X-LK-bw/s1600/IMGP1772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBumERHxmrtVrL2ufHL-Cu_wlqBuR1TldYo2weMkOQgEw3PLnjYrKv_AkEsZ60GtwNdPrtH9owCAqMERyKJzqJPuMBZOGY6ezmQGvu2K1uBw_AsHI4JdjBtNMpttz7oD6X-LK-bw/s400/IMGP1772.JPG" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gardeners must be very, very busy</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>Basilica Cistern</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">The Basilica Cistern was constructed in 532 as an u</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">nderground water storage reservoir for the Great Palace and other buildings in </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sultanahmet</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">. The dark and voluminous cistern is supported by 336 columns and is full of tourists taking flash photos that will inevitably not turn out.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoipRHQ2Hm-92r3NTduWAGeOwO2Fcenu9M-Ym67wZXSUAJvrP5BPHXGRV26XoqXquUwzKtCrn2t_b4rhirLyCHwriIjSlwCBWcgVLu07xfNmIro03kJnPdYb2e4PzMjxsObnIUEg/s1600/IMGP1273_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoipRHQ2Hm-92r3NTduWAGeOwO2Fcenu9M-Ym67wZXSUAJvrP5BPHXGRV26XoqXquUwzKtCrn2t_b4rhirLyCHwriIjSlwCBWcgVLu07xfNmIro03kJnPdYb2e4PzMjxsObnIUEg/s400/IMGP1273_edited-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still standing after all these years</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><b>Taksim Square</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Taksim Square is located at the top of the modern <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 16px;">Beyoglu district of Istanbul, across the Galata Bridge from </span>Sultanahmet. It's </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a major shopping, tourist and leisure district famed for its restaurants, shops and hotels. So imagine my surprise when I stepped out of the subway and saw this:</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-UirgdrYpOJlkW1LHhCSbZuHmT-6_R_qfMBFaJXofqZ__w3DivK2TGcgqo2bddt6h9LAAVcJiK4upZc5vKYDUKMjy5Tt3tHZ3Rxk1uqaTdKw0DuHW_GnzguCxc9WtHEr5srzWIw/s1600/IMGP1558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-UirgdrYpOJlkW1LHhCSbZuHmT-6_R_qfMBFaJXofqZ__w3DivK2TGcgqo2bddt6h9LAAVcJiK4upZc5vKYDUKMjy5Tt3tHZ3Rxk1uqaTdKw0DuHW_GnzguCxc9WtHEr5srzWIw/s320/IMGP1558.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Modern crowd control device</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was one well armed crowd control vehicle, complete with a large front end scoop for showing mobs who's the boss. I headed for </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Istiklal Street, the main shopping street that leads to Taksim Square, to get a better look and was confronted by one of the largest crowds I have ever seen.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKdq_JVLIauYIOh0mCKCTxA6BxCWmbs85h5AeG6PqOwaZl_x2sS6aRsHw8hIfSPHm63sC7AqINcXj_vmzhrNIBiOMX41IGWwdAGvNGb3b9bGsMHBWPAbEqKZ20eiqPFAim8PwtQ/s1600/IMGP1570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKdq_JVLIauYIOh0mCKCTxA6BxCWmbs85h5AeG6PqOwaZl_x2sS6aRsHw8hIfSPHm63sC7AqINcXj_vmzhrNIBiOMX41IGWwdAGvNGb3b9bGsMHBWPAbEqKZ20eiqPFAim8PwtQ/s400/IMGP1570.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Something was up on Istiklal Street</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Something was definitely up. The crowd wasn't menacing or unruly, but they were certainly with purpose. At first I thought that perhaps they were protesting gay police officers,</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlelOoxgN0iSxeBp72b5p5cjwv-9XjEBxxtlQQpOlevLbOL9Dn5hWRJ1XsqXaLcCpw7L1Y08xf_gndScwmey0gIb5o8PMfr5EJ4hqCt76Q2bhHoBTuTIYiOPIhXkdPGiIld37GA/s1600/IMGP1563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlelOoxgN0iSxeBp72b5p5cjwv-9XjEBxxtlQQpOlevLbOL9Dn5hWRJ1XsqXaLcCpw7L1Y08xf_gndScwmey0gIb5o8PMfr5EJ4hqCt76Q2bhHoBTuTIYiOPIhXkdPGiIld37GA/s320/IMGP1563.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proud to serve and protect</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but then I saw this sign and it all made sense:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GbYZE59lywuFfvmMYEt7Pynm9xQp4-g41BNXq3RyfGQ-oWxQfa3yNzAUex8UuQNbO5xWxJys-tKHCw9QxcCO-nn12jmKNYcC4T-AaAUDGQ7ttTonW3wTLSYXdxvz5FEmic3oyg/s1600/IMGP1562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GbYZE59lywuFfvmMYEt7Pynm9xQp4-g41BNXq3RyfGQ-oWxQfa3yNzAUex8UuQNbO5xWxJys-tKHCw9QxcCO-nn12jmKNYcC4T-AaAUDGQ7ttTonW3wTLSYXdxvz5FEmic3oyg/s320/IMGP1562.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">In addition to being a destination for leisure activities, Taksim Square has historically been </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">the starting point or destination of many political demonstrations. May 1 marks the annual Labour Day demonstrations in Istanbul. It was during these demonstration in 1977 that unidentified gunmen opened fire and killed 36 demonstrators, an event since remembered as</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taksim_Square_massacre" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-decoration: none;" title="Taksim Square massacre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">Taksim Square massacre</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">. All forms of group protests were banned in the square until 2010 when Labour Day demonstrations were permitted for the first time. The peace was short lived, as a Kurdish suicide bomber killed himself and many others in the square on October 31, 2010. Needless to say, the May 1 Labour Day demonstrations of 2011 were heavily monitored and the police presence was extreme. I tried to keep a low profile.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I returned to Taksim Square and the surrounding streets on a number of occasions. It's lively, fun and well worth exploring. In fact, despite the somewhat dark history (and the warnings on the US Consulate website), the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Beyoglu district is where I will stay during my next visit to Istanbul.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>Galata Tower</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Located down the hill from Taksim Square and facing </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sultanahmet is a fire lookout tower built in the 1300's. It wasn't until the 1960's that the amazing panoramic views from the Galata Tower were opened to the public.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYd3_RMnASxFzXwoTYcFGWtGw0VBx7onSR4pP91v8EDapIIxWo-kbyIts9Tt3PQA4MmOqcWyKpNNviM_KA9x89jpiSh-tX_uXkKRqnq5El31sdbSSYn04fCWeBjx4fj5aqGKyAw/s1600/IMGP1603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYd3_RMnASxFzXwoTYcFGWtGw0VBx7onSR4pP91v8EDapIIxWo-kbyIts9Tt3PQA4MmOqcWyKpNNviM_KA9x89jpiSh-tX_uXkKRqnq5El31sdbSSYn04fCWeBjx4fj5aqGKyAw/s400/IMGP1603.JPG" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Galata Tower at dusk</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The view of </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sultanahmet</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> from the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tower is unparalleled in Istanbul, providing a panoramic perspective of the Big Three attractions.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwX4bd7F6_ACoF553lN-I1TTp72-M3aTcwQQ0yYJhr7sfvkDgG4Lb7hAX4Yr6V09yrBxwKISkD3iTtAq7BA_mCPCaGGHlJXyeSsWMw69crUGMCy9nJ1x1srsqWQHMLdLsjMHHU9Q/s1600/IMGP1592_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwX4bd7F6_ACoF553lN-I1TTp72-M3aTcwQQ0yYJhr7sfvkDgG4Lb7hAX4Yr6V09yrBxwKISkD3iTtAq7BA_mCPCaGGHlJXyeSsWMw69crUGMCy9nJ1x1srsqWQHMLdLsjMHHU9Q/s400/IMGP1592_edited-1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A tourist points across the Galata Bridge to (from left to right) Topkapi Palace, Hagia Sophia and The Blue Mosque</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Galata Tower provides an unobstructed view of the Bosphorus and Asian Istanbul on the other side. It also allows one to peek into the many rooftop terraces that are so popular in </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Beyoglu.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmB3oCk4XSPtgvH8vcyqnv3MzFVrqvOpxgLD8hEPyNfcf2JCFBuGHZeMMLuKe8IZnIn2jEjO7MTNcw1kEDWvWwhZaUNbZXkglrHPDnWAU32sNq47-R-YC8dlVUySxhxt5NFt6aw/s1600/IMGP1586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmB3oCk4XSPtgvH8vcyqnv3MzFVrqvOpxgLD8hEPyNfcf2JCFBuGHZeMMLuKe8IZnIn2jEjO7MTNcw1kEDWvWwhZaUNbZXkglrHPDnWAU32sNq47-R-YC8dlVUySxhxt5NFt6aw/s320/IMGP1586.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bosphorus with the Asian side beyond</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYJq53kOenL0sSKNn4f6gCZLtVsu8an35Gm_XJ7eYYSM1S4K8aQehIJp9RopN9hR9vFN2kwKXpKAErKRPBKLZyv1doI4Y5vekFhei0jWA9fmPYWqTiHruL3KyT16-1gUm98PO0g/s1600/IMGP1582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYJq53kOenL0sSKNn4f6gCZLtVsu8an35Gm_XJ7eYYSM1S4K8aQehIJp9RopN9hR9vFN2kwKXpKAErKRPBKLZyv1doI4Y5vekFhei0jWA9fmPYWqTiHruL3KyT16-1gUm98PO0g/s200/IMGP1582.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plenty of cafes, terraces and bars</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9GpYtPEE39VaSkHKffG4SaKvUdnbtlw3KhEGyyBiaCyaGlZOi-nrxd914A9wN4aE9KJxxx3RebzqlNRH2ie1Ws-QDqjzaSZkEjZJgHphSEi9zPT6z_cMIDr8v_B_9gVn80pS5g/s1600/IMGP1594_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9GpYtPEE39VaSkHKffG4SaKvUdnbtlw3KhEGyyBiaCyaGlZOi-nrxd914A9wN4aE9KJxxx3RebzqlNRH2ie1Ws-QDqjzaSZkEjZJgHphSEi9zPT6z_cMIDr8v_B_9gVn80pS5g/s200/IMGP1594_edited-1.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cosy rooftop hideaway</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><b><u>Up The Bosphorus</u></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">No trip to Istanbul is complete without a boat trip on the Bosphorus. The Bosphorus Strait acts as the major artery of Istanbul; connecting the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea, and Europe to Asia. It has been the region's major means of transportation for centuries, and despite the rather recent construction of huge bridges that span its width, the Bosphorus remains a hub for shipping and commuting.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMuSdV8M6P_V9flGLqatDU5BXXE2hQF_nwjlBJw0XBWD4BMcgdH_IdNskOVKLxIg9tHgGwqIq9rWlbVfhaMOJxHZAlMlA6zCXzoY5nmOkYnAHNJ1IkPfYqfhYpXLTi22BsgBP19A/s1600/IMGP1788_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMuSdV8M6P_V9flGLqatDU5BXXE2hQF_nwjlBJw0XBWD4BMcgdH_IdNskOVKLxIg9tHgGwqIq9rWlbVfhaMOJxHZAlMlA6zCXzoY5nmOkYnAHNJ1IkPfYqfhYpXLTi22BsgBP19A/s400/IMGP1788_edited-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking up the Bosphorous from Sultanahmet towards the Black Sea</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Many private companies offer tours and dinner cruises on the Bosphorus, but probably the most authentic boat trip is to ride a commuter ferry. The locals call it the "Beggar Ferry" because it makes so many stops along the way, all but begging for passengers at each one. The ferry I took was jammed, so I think they're doing a pretty good job.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 16px;">The most popular day trip is to begin at Eminonu (the ferry terminals along the Bosphorus in Sultanahmet) and take the ferry to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Anadolu Kavagi, a charming fishing village on the Asian side of Istanbul near where the Bosphorus meets the Black Sea. The trip takes about an hour and a half as the ferry zig zags its way from one side of the Bosphorus to the other. Passengers are treated to some beautiful vistas while at the same time getting a sense of the immensity of Istanbul.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmB69fESX2shXS6N1_UIpybBF4f04TQeRUreyf1ACZSQvYva12AqQtTW37ro4rIDf_lnexiahZb8N3Va7HC4IQ4WTT4W2hMMKpXtY_1rmGat2ImQfK6vF54vwBQ7t790aAgKwbyw/s1600/IMGP1692_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmB69fESX2shXS6N1_UIpybBF4f04TQeRUreyf1ACZSQvYva12AqQtTW37ro4rIDf_lnexiahZb8N3Va7HC4IQ4WTT4W2hMMKpXtY_1rmGat2ImQfK6vF54vwBQ7t790aAgKwbyw/s320/IMGP1692_edited-1.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yet another mosque</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lvxERM8RWv5UvdFF9cyrUbWN6CzsBGD3YL5otMgHMZAFUYoNi13uLtC92kyiMc64hZoJeZ4Jo_kEioLHzdF6JqOKFdpKwZ3D1eEV3KfFKOM-23hhtUiHM5yCLV0HfgWftpaByg/s1600/IMGP1635_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lvxERM8RWv5UvdFF9cyrUbWN6CzsBGD3YL5otMgHMZAFUYoNi13uLtC92kyiMc64hZoJeZ4Jo_kEioLHzdF6JqOKFdpKwZ3D1eEV3KfFKOM-23hhtUiHM5yCLV0HfgWftpaByg/s320/IMGP1635_edited-1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ancient meets modern</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrm9NlLv2uXE0Eoud3rwZJiwL9ysWPq8YjQPPKt8epp43WfKlleKitQr8scbappgrS6FzhZ-zPKRN15Bqpyyusdms9P9O-gYPqFbG2frwID2sQo-ijzUVjm7Z2sXHqIUQJniaZ3A/s1600/IMGP1619_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrm9NlLv2uXE0Eoud3rwZJiwL9ysWPq8YjQPPKt8epp43WfKlleKitQr8scbappgrS6FzhZ-zPKRN15Bqpyyusdms9P9O-gYPqFbG2frwID2sQo-ijzUVjm7Z2sXHqIUQJniaZ3A/s320/IMGP1619_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lvxERM8RWv5UvdFF9cyrUbWN6CzsBGD3YL5otMgHMZAFUYoNi13uLtC92kyiMc64hZoJeZ4Jo_kEioLHzdF6JqOKFdpKwZ3D1eEV3KfFKOM-23hhtUiHM5yCLV0HfgWftpaByg/s1600/IMGP1635_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Anadolu Kavagi is just as advertised; a small seaside village with a mass of restauranteers vying for your tourist dollars. And I thought the carpet salesmen were pushy! I waded through the touts and wandered up a hillside to the old fortress that used to stand guard over the entrance to the Bosphorus. My guide book suggested taking an hour or so to walk the ramparts, but at the front gate I was greeted by a padlock and a sign stating "Closed for Archaeological Purposes". Judging by the dilapidated state of the fortress and the rust on the lock (it had obviously not been opened for years), I'd say the sign could more appropriately have read "Closed because we can't be bothered with the upkeep".</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiab1oGYM-3g_chnciMK20cv4HEYTzKfuRqeWuPtwMtOPIwYx-G-XcrXsaDYDDX0kCWRwcJVulcW7ip-FWNjTcRBIckWVCOnJLaDENSb3xfjsHrcwYEx3eM8k2XmXw1YQRbok1c1g/s1600/IMGP1685_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiab1oGYM-3g_chnciMK20cv4HEYTzKfuRqeWuPtwMtOPIwYx-G-XcrXsaDYDDX0kCWRwcJVulcW7ip-FWNjTcRBIckWVCOnJLaDENSb3xfjsHrcwYEx3eM8k2XmXw1YQRbok1c1g/s320/IMGP1685_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing guard over the Bosphorus for centuries</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Still, I had noted an inviting restaurant on the hillside above the village, so I clambered back down and ate lunch overlooking the sparkling Bosphorus. I haven't enjoyed many better dining views than that anywhere.</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUajVCcHuh7P3qtCwRWIko_pXY6oVxD7ygzBKLbHFWon9tFVXjWeMAk74EF3d-mLtzRm6XguJ-2tltXV8NEYxewouVprTHoqfgoaFBprYzzH4ka_xn0662kQDGvd-mPj6rXTpDPg/s1600/IMGP1668_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUajVCcHuh7P3qtCwRWIko_pXY6oVxD7ygzBKLbHFWon9tFVXjWeMAk74EF3d-mLtzRm6XguJ-2tltXV8NEYxewouVprTHoqfgoaFBprYzzH4ka_xn0662kQDGvd-mPj6rXTpDPg/s320/IMGP1668_edited-1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A seat with a view</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">I had eaten far more than planned so was looking forward to a long walk before taking the ferry back to central Istanbul. I set off in every direction I could, other than straight back to the village, but was inevitably confronted by the same sign:</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgElOWYI9W8YNJofDFlQ6b5TEluPiw6kr2NhTaElvACljzdKRfboN4xILfxXADMETKqp1b3tPOLLXKDkx8mqepP5J7gKtj6zyrYRgsv_4vZevi00XvdO7lePIoJwA22mQdEofVdYg/s1600/IMGP1669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgElOWYI9W8YNJofDFlQ6b5TEluPiw6kr2NhTaElvACljzdKRfboN4xILfxXADMETKqp1b3tPOLLXKDkx8mqepP5J7gKtj6zyrYRgsv_4vZevi00XvdO7lePIoJwA22mQdEofVdYg/s320/IMGP1669.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not very welcoming</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">The village is apparently surrounded by military land, and except for a single access road, there is no other way in or out besides the ferry. Disappointed, I did what any sane traveller would do - I headed back to the village and found the cafe where the old men were gathered to gossip and play dominoes. I downed a few Efes (Turkish Beer) and soaked up the atmosphere.</span></span></span><br />
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<b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><u>Life in Istanbul</u></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The best way to get to know any city is to wander through its neighbourhoods without any particular destination in mind. Some of my most memorable experiences occur when I'm doing just that. It often doesn't require a major effort to get away from a tourist destination. The side streets adjacent to a popular monument or building can often provide the little gems that make travel so much fun.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Istanbul is full of such opportunities. By taking some out of the way excursions I was exposed to some real aspects of day-to-day Life in Istanbul.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1IxdbWs_d1aFwh23eOFR2drme8JmhhoAc1CB6VmaRn6hDpFQD9hDfaNnP4GszfrvyiFjaviY4Bu99LDTKfy36zMSrwpBCsKvH2aSv6zM2htnIbaRdgysTJIlU_yscWLbuPNggEQ/s1600/IMGP1230_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1IxdbWs_d1aFwh23eOFR2drme8JmhhoAc1CB6VmaRn6hDpFQD9hDfaNnP4GszfrvyiFjaviY4Bu99LDTKfy36zMSrwpBCsKvH2aSv6zM2htnIbaRdgysTJIlU_yscWLbuPNggEQ/s320/IMGP1230_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Ok, you don't have to go out of your way to find these street vendors. They are everywhere! They are selling Simit, a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;"> crisp, ring-shaped, savory roll covered with sesame seeds. Turkish people love the stuff, especially when they wash it down with another Turkish favorite - </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">ayran</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; text-align: justify;"> (salty liquid yoghurt).</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqUhEmXBUCbBbEpoHk_cSWjAIZYiQIthMQnv-2TgBfdEgLawKMh4rbgBeVQ0lhYGwYSfaJ3j_L5oA3F84SB-l24obFXnl2m6oN4cm4w5QKmQylU16ADSmSivVX4CLQNYSwRm8TWA/s1600/IMGP1427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqUhEmXBUCbBbEpoHk_cSWjAIZYiQIthMQnv-2TgBfdEgLawKMh4rbgBeVQ0lhYGwYSfaJ3j_L5oA3F84SB-l24obFXnl2m6oN4cm4w5QKmQylU16ADSmSivVX4CLQNYSwRm8TWA/s320/IMGP1427.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shopping is a man's diversion in Turkey</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xKs2DE4Hhl8GP5iX4S5U8LIWC9DpxnWPtzw175EU-U44yNc7sDjafWF-x2GoieIiqosiXl_fu88dxKgd8IzjlSn8OyLmt16_VtvPWp8vUHMj_mC6TggiqfDp4IdCPNvH0AYs6A/s1600/IMGP1430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xKs2DE4Hhl8GP5iX4S5U8LIWC9DpxnWPtzw175EU-U44yNc7sDjafWF-x2GoieIiqosiXl_fu88dxKgd8IzjlSn8OyLmt16_VtvPWp8vUHMj_mC6TggiqfDp4IdCPNvH0AYs6A/s320/IMGP1430.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doesn't anyone want to look at MY beads?</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; text-align: justify;">Not all of the shopping is done in the bazaars. Poke your head behind a Mosque or down a side street and you often encounter one of these makeshift markets. S</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">ome of the markets seem more legit than others (I wouldn't buy an iPhone from one of these guys, but I might buy a leather wallet), yet t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">hey are </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">inevitably</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">populated by nothing but serious looking men. And of course there is the obligatory arm waving and yelling that as far as I can tell is really just to add atmosphere. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">Ok, so anyone who grew up in the 70's is familiar with spirograph. It was all the rage for kids before computers and video games came along to rot their brains. Actually, all it involved was spinning a plastic wheel around inside a plastic ring to make spacey designs, so I'm not sure which is worse. Regardless, it was for kids and the novelty wore off in about 5 minutes. </span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWDEar1_5hTJq2I_kKbhbtAHYp-xeG_iPvM88iwbND1nF9WWc91VI1lRbmFzeWq2Qq9UOytdr5JXO5izLFB8UtFDyOs8uaceKsTU9B-mYhxuOp44lcCoPitXmFMwG2DHpB3XCog/s1600/IMGP1436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWDEar1_5hTJq2I_kKbhbtAHYp-xeG_iPvM88iwbND1nF9WWc91VI1lRbmFzeWq2Qq9UOytdr5JXO5izLFB8UtFDyOs8uaceKsTU9B-mYhxuOp44lcCoPitXmFMwG2DHpB3XCog/s320/IMGP1436.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Spirograph? Are you kidding me?</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">So why are there grown men on every street corner in Istanbul selling spirographs like it's the next big thing? I kid you not. They were almost as prevalent as the guys selling Simit. I asked around and to this day have not heard a plausible explanation.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">And more street scenes:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4WTTGayi_yi5Y2QevTIQ_2ApsRJ1fvssy7NhEQd38tC1xZt-mTO8RFe65-F8NyCyVq1XcQh6B3olaPROdfw3BkoAETO0MQdOu5jR4cWZIx3x1oKycBLLn_WZ516GB-M1k9zfqQ/s1600/IMGP1519_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4WTTGayi_yi5Y2QevTIQ_2ApsRJ1fvssy7NhEQd38tC1xZt-mTO8RFe65-F8NyCyVq1XcQh6B3olaPROdfw3BkoAETO0MQdOu5jR4cWZIx3x1oKycBLLn_WZ516GB-M1k9zfqQ/s320/IMGP1519_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wouldn't eat anything that came out of that water (at least knowingly - I did eat a lot of street food).</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLPie9RhTWK75KWhQ-9rFHNsQpv4w4vCtgfXYx6xWye8100BaV1aFTzKoxdmWmWg7Q-8KfvSzAUDAsDQe0KGlSBVGjWT0BTelLwJkwBGZoIZYceJ4yiDNlP8V6ZHeAJIPn6hdHjQ/s1600/IMGP1529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLPie9RhTWK75KWhQ-9rFHNsQpv4w4vCtgfXYx6xWye8100BaV1aFTzKoxdmWmWg7Q-8KfvSzAUDAsDQe0KGlSBVGjWT0BTelLwJkwBGZoIZYceJ4yiDNlP8V6ZHeAJIPn6hdHjQ/s320/IMGP1529.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pedestrians wander by yet another Mosque. There are more than a few Mosques in Istanbul and they emit very loud calls to prayer at some ungodly hours. To me that made the place seem even more exotic. I'm guessing it would grow old pretty fast, however. (Hey look, it's a street vendor selling Simit!)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZc1T3bSPTNkCiCl4nwlRr4LgOa0v_T9sMv6LEMrcg6XCnRetMUuo0uXyfXEOjMDJkkcJAlmn9DPzQ45lXVTMs0bG54a4b_pfDyDzs4AIc_hrB6Tpfsz4zh7_m0yiq9UBXydrHw/s1600/IMGP1549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZc1T3bSPTNkCiCl4nwlRr4LgOa0v_T9sMv6LEMrcg6XCnRetMUuo0uXyfXEOjMDJkkcJAlmn9DPzQ45lXVTMs0bG54a4b_pfDyDzs4AIc_hrB6Tpfsz4zh7_m0yiq9UBXydrHw/s320/IMGP1549.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because even the Turks get <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;">hemorrhoids - (Pfizer makes preparation H). But seriously, I was struck by the close proximity of an emblem that I associate with corporate America to the Turkish flag.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaelWT2PrS-NKex2xXJjOUh-2RmDCEVBwFiu5OgR_SeIbwdXUdvKud9d-KG7WHHecBE19Udzcf4J8SM1nSwPHspKoMpKBKCi78-1_1SXrninIF2MXs-oQg0Yxptuy5YK8YcmN1UQ/s1600/IMGP1550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaelWT2PrS-NKex2xXJjOUh-2RmDCEVBwFiu5OgR_SeIbwdXUdvKud9d-KG7WHHecBE19Udzcf4J8SM1nSwPHspKoMpKBKCi78-1_1SXrninIF2MXs-oQg0Yxptuy5YK8YcmN1UQ/s320/IMGP1550.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Does this sign make any sense to you? "it is a place where 5 meal taste is delighted"? It's no wonder there have been wars. They were understandably caused by blatant misunderstandings!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbClCYUN3qz-MZTcwC6rjcpMFJqKVnN0X33a2dCaTg-z-7MgYf0zPB-uCRYI9fZWJhM_7CHLU3nh-IYIf_laqhCE2FzUt0G3w_sJuj94QPgeKmKpKMDF0zS6R9HqT_SbDvnKwkA/s1600/IMGP1551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbClCYUN3qz-MZTcwC6rjcpMFJqKVnN0X33a2dCaTg-z-7MgYf0zPB-uCRYI9fZWJhM_7CHLU3nh-IYIf_laqhCE2FzUt0G3w_sJuj94QPgeKmKpKMDF0zS6R9HqT_SbDvnKwkA/s320/IMGP1551.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Keeping up with the Akhbars - "Well the Akhbars next door got a bay window. I want a bay window!" Quite a cool little side street in an Istanbul suburb.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmzNBJ6L39vUQIxh8mI2v6ythpmmdzpybvcAXNjBoBwRlR7nIVoooB7fKSf0MEaIR3N8ZdRPn70NGA8e5jyVKwgFYBh-zFtwvh6LqKaV9MmY5mMe1ghIlHtuMCE4cjAVFrCOLlw/s1600/IMGP1572_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmzNBJ6L39vUQIxh8mI2v6ythpmmdzpybvcAXNjBoBwRlR7nIVoooB7fKSf0MEaIR3N8ZdRPn70NGA8e5jyVKwgFYBh-zFtwvh6LqKaV9MmY5mMe1ghIlHtuMCE4cjAVFrCOLlw/s320/IMGP1572_edited-1.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel for this restaurant owner. My liver is pretty unhappy with me some days, too. I love the French translation, as well.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFahV5ucfsBkyS12VwlkF9y3KM0z6bUBTNQyWJFkX44u5PKfXHlbZVnou4VV70w-M8EwLrq0DfqQXezsWQGO1vMml2y2RJ_qsEl-v_BEGkvNdmoynO1MLPRdWg2kCcCGnaJg4Efg/s1600/IMGP1577_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFahV5ucfsBkyS12VwlkF9y3KM0z6bUBTNQyWJFkX44u5PKfXHlbZVnou4VV70w-M8EwLrq0DfqQXezsWQGO1vMml2y2RJ_qsEl-v_BEGkvNdmoynO1MLPRdWg2kCcCGnaJg4Efg/s320/IMGP1577_edited-1.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the countless side streets off of Istiklal Street. They are full of restaurants, cafes and bars, and make for great people watching any time of day or night. The Turkish people are passionate about life which is reflected in the lively conversations being had at any given table.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQjFkUVbIPsExaN_caQXoFa3v8i3cVL2VgMijFYxC7YuqTp8yXjDOIp8MkQ9hjGXeBLhV_W32AyqWFSlq426rLVh50n7t6E-7bRo_5tHEofRQ4hQb01EkHw4rzrSJcYOCuprDaA/s1600/IMGP1600_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQjFkUVbIPsExaN_caQXoFa3v8i3cVL2VgMijFYxC7YuqTp8yXjDOIp8MkQ9hjGXeBLhV_W32AyqWFSlq426rLVh50n7t6E-7bRo_5tHEofRQ4hQb01EkHw4rzrSJcYOCuprDaA/s320/IMGP1600_edited-1.JPG" width="214" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">Ah the exuberance of youth! The same day as the May 1 demonstrations, students flooded the side streets preaching their mantra of Anarchy. As far as I could tell, their definition of Anarchy was "let's all sit around and get drunk", which is pretty well the mantra of every student, is it not?</span></span></div>
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<strong style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 23px;"><span class="style39"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ortaköy</span></span></strong></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I haven't mentioned much about Turkish food, which is diverse, spicy and often beautifully presented. Istanbul is a foodie's delight (as long as you aren't a vegetarian), and deserves a separate post of its own. I came across one notable Turkish favorite, however, while strolling through the neighbourhood of </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 23px; text-align: justify;"><span class="style39"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ortaköy on a Sunday afternoon. It serves as a fitting end to my week in Istanbul.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 23px;">Ortaköy is located along the Bosphorus a few kilometres north of the </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Dolmabahce Palace. It is a charming little neighbourhood with a long board-walk, colourful apartments and plenty of places to eat and drink. It is the destination in Istanbul for yuppies looking to see and be seen. As I found out, it is also the most likely location in Istanbul for a heart attack. May I introduce to you - Kumpir.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 23px;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiebzRlm6YgfKF0ZxCkhFb4eeGf1rSZAE0dp7q_CtRFac-PuK87I2ysye0m-fGPJTnT26oYNRm2rCQZPzhjEpZfNjMFLvJSxXYKnNIv-ZU6grs2sRKUfbfwIDojv9IUFGxoILXZ_w/s1600/IMGP1532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiebzRlm6YgfKF0ZxCkhFb4eeGf1rSZAE0dp7q_CtRFac-PuK87I2ysye0m-fGPJTnT26oYNRm2rCQZPzhjEpZfNjMFLvJSxXYKnNIv-ZU6grs2sRKUfbfwIDojv9IUFGxoILXZ_w/s400/IMGP1532.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kumpir - a heart attack in every potato!</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Despite the abundance of restaurants and food options in </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 23px;">Ortaköy, everyone is there to eat Kumpir. There are rows upon rows of Kumpir stands, all selling exactly the same thing - a baked potato stuffed to overflowing with a wide assortment of goodies, each specifically designed to clog one of your arteries. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 23px;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pick your poison</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi36PNw-VsGpEWa1MYKFlwfYIL79XFc0mhOc1eSHVZ8h2SNzsPkaYOnuv4xbYaSJcl98e4TuNEZq-s0f8xF9UlTVowwti3gEg6b_kFXFCt8ViVHP659hWBjI2sn9FF-7R-UZZlWfg/s1600/IMGP1548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi36PNw-VsGpEWa1MYKFlwfYIL79XFc0mhOc1eSHVZ8h2SNzsPkaYOnuv4xbYaSJcl98e4TuNEZq-s0f8xF9UlTVowwti3gEg6b_kFXFCt8ViVHP659hWBjI2sn9FF-7R-UZZlWfg/s320/IMGP1548.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kumpir stands for as far as the eye can see</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">The process is quite simple. First you pick your favourite Kumpir vendor, then you start pointing to the myriad selection of toppings located in bins under glass. Next, you stand back as they heap your choices all over a baked potato. They finish it off by covering the whole thing with a few litres of mayonnaise and ketchup. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">I couldn't decide which toppings looked best so I just asked for some of everything. My vendor raised an eyebrow, shook his head and started piling. I can't believe I ate the whole thing. Unbelievably delicious!</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">But don't take my word for it, see what a local has to say. This little girl was pretty apprehensive as her parents encouraged her to try Kumpir for the first time:</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwUIOVu4VUR1DlO9EmAtiASFiU9l9Klo_JiaYGts5uOLCynO-NsdMS6iwdn318PV7PkfwgAl5yU-aeqKgzq81Jj_QvIrLlZ63-x-mZau8eODcRKpelevksY7BcD8oIqmHAaqMFA/s1600/IMGP1535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwUIOVu4VUR1DlO9EmAtiASFiU9l9Klo_JiaYGts5uOLCynO-NsdMS6iwdn318PV7PkfwgAl5yU-aeqKgzq81Jj_QvIrLlZ63-x-mZau8eODcRKpelevksY7BcD8oIqmHAaqMFA/s400/IMGP1535.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgembbOngzMs5tgn1FiTSWm6HUq5fUYJ7aefkCJLdPVKIVE-HRB6sOsDpri7IYZVBgISrvnIq5TVnNisKeHie7RCl4uo5_xpAJVV_v8BgQDz7P_MbUkJ7UButpispB3h9g1vr-h-Q/s1600/IMGP1538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">Now that is a happy Kumpir customer!</span></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgembbOngzMs5tgn1FiTSWm6HUq5fUYJ7aefkCJLdPVKIVE-HRB6sOsDpri7IYZVBgISrvnIq5TVnNisKeHie7RCl4uo5_xpAJVV_v8BgQDz7P_MbUkJ7UButpispB3h9g1vr-h-Q/s1600/IMGP1538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgembbOngzMs5tgn1FiTSWm6HUq5fUYJ7aefkCJLdPVKIVE-HRB6sOsDpri7IYZVBgISrvnIq5TVnNisKeHie7RCl4uo5_xpAJVV_v8BgQDz7P_MbUkJ7UButpispB3h9g1vr-h-Q/s400/IMGP1538.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com0Istanbul Province/Istanbul, Turkey41.00527 28.9769640.621829500000004 28.345246 41.3887105 29.608673999999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-86220585528359551092011-04-29T23:36:00.000-07:002011-04-29T23:36:21.268-07:00Almost Famous<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyHPXowz8Xdo3wlTuVMqgB1kD5eNlgS1fYWfTxeUXzLjHM4IaiOSsONUqqDh5bCeJ6-Z4agJzyscXc' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Here's a look at Almost Famous, my favorite bar in Pai (Northern Thailand). It's one of those funky eclectic bars that could be almost anywhere. There are a few giveaways, however, such as the "no stupid farrangs" sign (farrang is pronounced fallong and is Thai for foreigner) and the lovely Lazy Angel mixing cocktails (she also taught us a Thai cooking class). Keep an eye out for some other fun stuff like cartoons, phrases and even a Quebec licence plate!</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-11502626112824527342011-04-03T04:12:00.000-07:002011-04-03T04:12:42.861-07:00A Tale of Two Tours<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the guide handed me body armour and told me to put it on, I began to worry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he did a full safety inspection of my mountain bike, especially the brakes “because I was going to need them”, I became seriously concerned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when we wheeled ourselves to the edge of an incredibly steep mountain slope and looked down a trail that plunged over boulders and through trees, I couldn’t help but ask myself “What kind of insane tour have I signed up for this time?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tours are the traveller’s paradox.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one wants to be cooped up on a bus with a bunch of tourists being led around by some overly friendly lady holding up a flag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But at the same time, travellers are in fact tourists, and tours offer a convenient way for tourists to economically experience a place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re travelling, you’ll end up on a tour at some point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s inevitable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trick is to do some research ahead of time in order to identify the tours that suit your particular travel style and personality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chiang Mai’s idyllic location in the mountains of <place w:st="on">Northern Thailand</place> makes it a mecca for travellers and a hotbed for tour operators. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During my visit there I figured I had done my homework appropriately and signed up for two tours: a guided mountain biking ride and a bus tour to the golden triangle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mind you, as I sat on that bicycle precariously perched atop a mountain, my homework skills were in serious doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The tour company offered a variety of rides for cyclists of all abilities, from beginner to maniac.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had picked what the brochure described as an intermediate ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when I looked at the three other guys in my group, intermediate looked pretty hardcore.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was old enough to be the father of each of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think the guy closest to my age was 22.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were all extreme sports enthusiasts and had the scabs and scars to prove it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On our ride from the shuttle bus to the start of the trail they were doing wheelies and jumps like the guys you see on Mountain Dew ads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a kid every time I tried a wheelie I’d fall off my bike, much to the merriment of the entire schoolyard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not in the mood to relive any traumatic childhood events on this day, I kept my head down and secretly wished I had gone with the fat guy and the family of four who were on the beginner ride.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was no time for hesitation (or quitters).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our guide let out a yelp and with a fancy rear wheel fishtail he was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within seconds so were the other riders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were out of sight before I had my feet on the pedals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was going to be a long day. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I began to carefully pick my way down the trail at a considerably slower pace than my fellow riders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not that I’ve never done any downhill riding before; it’s just that I know how long it takes my body to heal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One mistake and my trip could have been over.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A good guide is integral to the success of any tour, particularly one where there is very real potential risk to life and limb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our guide was a very skilled rider (having done the trail more than 100 times probably helped too), but where he excelled was in passing his knowledge on to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d give us tips about how to get through a technically challenging part of the ride (“Dave, maybe you should walk down this part”) as well as advice on how to be better riders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With his guidance my confidence increased and I managed to hold my own, if I do say so myself.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They were still faster than me and would have to wait from time to time for me to catch up. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed they would usually choose to wait at the bottom of a particularly gnarly stretch, giving them a clear view of my descent. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d give a big cheer when I’d arrive in one piece, which I assumed meant they were happy for me and not because my arrival meant they could finally get going again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was all going famously until the point where, after a fairly steep section of switchbacks, I rode up to them, stopped, and proceeded to fall over and into a ditch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It all happened in slow motion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First I went over, then my bike on top of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For good measure I rolled one more time after having almost stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was inextricably tangled up with the bike and covered in mud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once they could stop laughing they were quick to help me up, which certainly sets them apart from those kids I went to school with. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The trail became more technically challenging as the ride continued.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guide repeatedly reminded me to keep my butt way back on my bike and to avoid using my front brakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The purpose of this advice was to keep my weight to the rear of the bike and avoid a tumble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It worked really well for me as long as I had time to think about what I was doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as my body would act instinctively, I was in deep trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It became clear that my instincts were not well in tune with downhill riding because when they would kick in they overruled everything he had told me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On several occasions I found myself heading chin first over the handle bars directly onto whatever particularly nasty bit of trail had frightened me into slamming on my front brakes in the first place. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As a result, when we had finally finished and were sitting beside a lake having a few beers, I had by far the best war wounds to show off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other guys had hardly broken a sweat, while I was covered in mud and bleeding from various extremities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If that isn’t an indication of a successful tour, I don’t know what is (which as I reread this sentence is a distinct possibility).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had pushed myself to the limit and felt much better for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first tour had been a resounding success.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The second tour began early the following morning with me feeling a little worse for wear, the result of trying to keep up with the boys in the pub as well as on the trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was looking forward to some coffee and a greasy breakfast to help deal with the situation. Unfortunately, the staff in my hotel restaurant, normally so over attentive as to be oppressive, chose that morning to be aloof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had taken my order by the time the tour van showed up, but I doubt if they had cracked an egg.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So with an empty stomach I piled into a passenger van with a bunch of strangers and we headed off to spend a day exploring the mountains to the northwest of Chiang Mai.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tour brochure said we were going to visit <city w:st="on">hot springs</city>, a white temple, the golden triangle, the <place w:st="on"><country-region w:st="on">Myanmar</country-region></place> border and other places of interest. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not usually a fan of bus tours, but that sounded like a pretty interesting agenda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“How bad could it be?” I had mused.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A major factor in the level of enjoyment of any bus tour is, of course, the bus itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I probably should have been wary when I smelled the stale cigarette smoke as I got in our van, but I was too busy looking for a seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being last on the tour pick-up route meant that I got last choice of seat, which inevitably meant I was sitting in the very back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People in <place w:st="on">Asia</place> are small so leg room in an Asian vehicle is already at a premium.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when sitting in the back of an Asian van you are sitting over the back wheels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus my legroom was inconveniently taken up by the wheel well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We didn’t drive very far before I realized another drawback to sitting over the back wheel, as the shock absorbers in this van had seen better days, probably back in the 70’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could feel every bump we hit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would vibrate through the entire length of my spine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Larger bumps resulted in double spine compression, as my head would hit the roof soon after my tail bone had taken the initial blow. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This van was not helping me to overcome my general apprehension for bus tours. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nonetheless, I was willing to let that slide as long as the tour lived up to its billing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A great guide like the previous day could certainly have helped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Count that as strike two for this tour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our guide’s “fluent” English wasn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As best as I could tell, she was going back and forth between Thai and English to accommodate the mix of people on the tour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That would have been fine if I could have deciphered which was which.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I soon gave up and put on my iPod.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That’s when I got my first whiff of vomit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hadn’t been on the road for an hour when a young Malaysian woman had her head slumped over a plastic bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have started to recognize this as a regular occurrence on SE Asian road trips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman sitting next to me on my bus trip from Siem Reap to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Phnom Penh</place></city> threw up for seven hours straight, although somehow she managed to control the odour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We weren’t so lucky in the van on this day. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the bright side, at least I wasn’t being offended by the stale cigarette odour any more.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first stop on our agenda was at the <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">hot springs</place></city>, which turned out to be nothing more than a rest stop along the highway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were two small man made cement pools with steaming stinky water and lots of garbage in them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Otherwise there was plenty of room for tour bus parking and lots of stalls selling trinkets for tourists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our guide informed us that we had 20 minutes to look around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had finished looking around before she had finished talking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was beginning to have some serious doubts about this tour.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two hours of driving and vomiting later we arrived at the <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">White</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Temple</placetype></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This temple looks like all the other temples you see in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Thailand</place></country-region>, except instead of lots of gold and bright colours, it is entirely white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, and this one also has cardboard cut-outs of the guy who is building the temple so you can get your picture taken next to “him”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s right; it’s a new temple being built by a civilian in, as far as I could tell, his own honour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of it was interesting to look at, especially with the garish futuristic touches he’d thrown in, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about L. Ron Hubbard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This particular Thai man was obviously rich enough to pay all of the tour companies to bring their customers to his temple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t think of another explanation as to why we were all there.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We pushed on to the Golden Triangle, the primary feature of the tour, where we were to be treated to a VIP boat trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The brochure indicated that the boat would take us for an informative look up and down the <placename w:st="on">Mekong</placename> <placetype w:st="on">River</placetype>, and then make a stop in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Laos</place></country-region> on the other side.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Golden Triangle is the confluence of two rivers which form the borders of the three countries that meet there - <country-region w:st="on">Thailand</country-region>, <country-region w:st="on">Laos</country-region> and <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Myanmar</place></country-region> - hence the Triangle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The history of the area is quite infamous, as it is steeped in the mystique of the opium trade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Opium was brought down from the surrounding countryside and exchanged along the rivers for gold, thus the Golden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the middle is an area called no man’s land, a notoriously lawless stretch where many a murder has occurred over the years.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I learned all of this from Wikipedia, not the commentary on our VIP boat trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had naively thought that the commentary would provide us with some insight into the geography and history of the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Silly me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had two commentators while on the boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first was what the Thai people refer to as a lady boy who giggled his way through some bad jokes about opium and, once he realized no one was laughing, sulked and pointed out some casinos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The second was a woman who sang Thai songs to us, like she was doing “a capella karaoke”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was all very weird.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As for the stop in <country-region w:st="on">Laos</country-region>, we were charged 20 Baht (around 60 cents) for the privilege of wandering through a bunch of stalls selling tourist trinkets from <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Laos</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was on a small island in the river so there was absolutely nowhere else to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were stranded there for 45 minutes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s not that there wasn’t anything to see in the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, our tour guide spent quite a bit of time highlighting places that probably would have been well worth seeing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example, we passed a rather stylish large complex that she made sure we all noted, and then explained “That building the <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Opium</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Museum</placetype></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very interesting!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t as much as slow down.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a buffet lunch at a restaurant filled with tourists from bus tours, we drove to a border crossing between <country-region w:st="on">Myanmar</country-region> and <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Thailand</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still have no idea of any significance of this particular crossing, but I do know that lots of the merchants selling trinkets to the tourists there were also selling black market Viagra and Ciallis for a “very good price”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know this because we had been dropped there for 30 minutes and the van left to get fuel so I couldn’t just climb in the back and sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead I had been left to wander amongst the stalls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently a six foot tall middle-aged guy with gray hair walking in a decidedly cramped fashion makes a pretty obvious target for Thai people selling erectile dysfunction medication. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That pretty well sums up the tour, although it did make one final stop at a makeshift traditional village where women with long necks pose for pictures, but I chose to not partake in the spectacle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were, however, plenty of stalls selling trinkets to keep me occupied while the others went to gawk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was probably the worst tour I have ever been on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A more complete waste of my time I have never been subjected to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t over emphasize how horrible it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And yet, quite shockingly to me, the other people on the van absolutely loved it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After every stop they piled back in the van laughing and chatting, arms filled full of shopping bags and junk food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even the sick girl got into the act.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They couldn’t have been happier with their choice of tour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was exactly what they wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A tale of two tours? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My two tours certainly were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were as dissimilar as could be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet the experiences of the passengers on the bus tour were just as dissimilar. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might say it was a tale of two tours in one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Such is the challenge that presents itself when a traveller considers a tour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even with all the advance preparation in the world, your experience may not live up to your expectations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not to worry, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one back home wants to hear about your wonderful hill trek anyways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’ll just make them jealous. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You really need the odd story about bedbugs or bus trips from hell to keep them interested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hmmm…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come to think of it, maybe I’ll book one more tour while I’m here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How bad can it be?</span></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-78787861143422445342011-03-17T01:50:00.000-07:002011-03-17T01:50:25.062-07:00Sometimes It’s Hard to Eat Local<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the delights of traveling is sampling the food from the various locales you visit on your journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least that’s my opinion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m always surprised by the numbers of people who don’t subscribe to this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tour groups are the worst, opting for food as close to home as possible, although I suppose that can be expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what about other travelers who choose to stick with only the familiar?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re going to put out the effort to venture half way around the world, wouldn’t you want to at least sample what the locals eat?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eating where the locals eat is one of the best ways to experience the flavour of your destination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In <place w:st="on">SE Asia</place> this means eating at food stalls, either along the street or at the market.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can require a bit of an adventurous spirit, but brings you face to face with locals, and isn’t that what travel is all about?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My preference is to just dive in with arms waving and fingers pointing, and see how it all turns out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually it comes off without a hitch, but sometimes, it can be hard to eat local.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Take today, for example.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spent the morning cycling around <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Siem Reap</city>, <country-region w:st="on">Cambodia</country-region></place>, running some errands, and as I was about to expire from the heat and lack of sustenance outside coffee, I spotted a bustling market area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Counting myself lucky I waded through the piles of fruits and vegetables and headed straight for the food stalls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was midday and the place was alive with locals having lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I picked a stall that looked busy and had a series of soupy looking dishes on display.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pointed at a rather innocuous looking one and was directed to take a seat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that’s when things got interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People in <place w:st="on">SE Asia</place> are small, and seats at markets and street stalls are accordingly tiny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Westerners are often seen squatting uncomfortably on them, with their knees up around their ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The people in Siem Reap didn’t look any smaller to me, but judging by the seat they gave me they are the smallest people on earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may as well have been sitting on the floor.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyone else had the same stool, though, and they weren’t complaining so I did my best to relax and wait for the food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s when I tuned in to the racket going on around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over and above the usual market din I was in earshot of at least three televisions and a couple of stereos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People in <place w:st="on">Asia</place> only watch TV or listen to music at one volume – 11!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was being inundated with the dubbed soundtrack to Free Willy, an Asian martial arts flick and as best I could tell a bad horror film (judging from all the screaming).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All that, plus duelling Asian “Top of the Pops”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So much for relaxation.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A smiling, nodding woman, not the one I had ordered from, approached with a tray of food strangely dissimilar to that I had ordered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She placed in front of me a plate of rice and a bowl with whole eggs, spinach and meat products.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pointed back questioningly at the stall where I had ordered, a stall which had only vegetable dishes on display, and she continued to smile and nod.</span></div> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3J6NfzOLGQHWF5TeyChPzwkGRRcGr2bVqwMlOGkeb8j68s7jIn89X0CnHo9J6WXfTH0n6qdWeuGhUOihFq185-tUJCVCBFwCfNrjy6TVD6L0el9codFzVfG-dsIjPa8G-_DlgA/s1600/IMGP5107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3J6NfzOLGQHWF5TeyChPzwkGRRcGr2bVqwMlOGkeb8j68s7jIn89X0CnHo9J6WXfTH0n6qdWeuGhUOihFq185-tUJCVCBFwCfNrjy6TVD6L0el9codFzVfG-dsIjPa8G-_DlgA/s320/IMGP5107.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Knuckles Never Tasted So Good!</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Accepting my fate, I proceeded to pick through my plate of assorted goodies. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It gave the term “mystery meat” a whole new meaning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure what animal or cuts the bits with actual meat came from, but they all had knuckles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other morsels were gristly, tripe filled and/or congealed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I looked around and noted that everyone else was eating sort of similar stuff, and no one was laughing at me, so figured this was legit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dumped the whole bowl over the rice and feasted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This proved to be less of a challenge than I had feared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, I ate whatever meat parts could be broken down, which amounted to about 10% of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following that I mushed up the eggs with the spinach (I’m assuming it was spinach), broth and rice and kind of slurped it all down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other than the bone shards, this was quite easy and surprisingly yummy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, no one was laughing at me so I guess I didn’t look too ridiculous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mind you, Cambodian people are notoriously polite.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About the time I was polishing off my last spoonful, I started to become aware of the unmistakeable aroma of shit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had noticed wafts of it earlier, but now it was pretty strong and seemed to be getting even stronger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no sewerage or toilets around, so I started to worry that I had stepped in something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was only off by a couple of inches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Under my table was one of the mangiest dogs you have ever seen, and it had curled up right at my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My guess was it had started farther away and inched closer as it realized I was otherwise distracted and wasn’t going to whack it over the head like probably everyone else at the market.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even so, once I saw and smelled it I swung around on my chair (no small feat when your knees are at eye level) and waved frantically for the bill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had reached my limit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ah, the bill – the other reason to eat with the locals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My total for the meal, including two iced coffees with sweet milk, was $2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s a far cry from the price in town, by more than an order of magnitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt much better about it as I rode away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, the only remaining question is whether my stomach will feel the same way.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPc4DBVz9d_e1xx4wei0nR7ig7UXpt8Z3TXVxwZRWktx8Zol_bGSE9Z1f72wVk_KsMcPeKu_Ucml4M8oWdYODvwpUQaUdzsZuniSplcqQrv9KiJ1JloBxlZSFZShcu6DuSBZOPwg/s1600/IMGP5109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPc4DBVz9d_e1xx4wei0nR7ig7UXpt8Z3TXVxwZRWktx8Zol_bGSE9Z1f72wVk_KsMcPeKu_Ucml4M8oWdYODvwpUQaUdzsZuniSplcqQrv9KiJ1JloBxlZSFZShcu6DuSBZOPwg/s320/IMGP5109.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My lunch spot, complete with ghoulish TV figure!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-72078778010378270462011-03-14T02:00:00.000-07:002011-03-14T02:00:03.112-07:00Honk If You Love Vietnam!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s there as you first start to wake, lurking somewhere on the edge of your consciousness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s been infiltrating your dreams, yet as you stir and open one eye, it’s still present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You pause for a moment to get your bearings and only then does it occur to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s honking. A lot of it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still, the morning is yours, and you take your time sipping a cup of tea in your hotel room before starting your day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s when you step outside and are enveloped by the sweltering heat (or freezing rain if it’s March in Hanoi…?) and have to immediately step aside to avoid a speeding motorbike, and then avert your gaze so as to not show interest to the three motorbike drivers calling after you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s then that it finally hits you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are in <place w:st="on"><country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</country-region></place>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This isn’t to say that all there is to <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vietnam</place></country-region> is motorbikes; there’s so much more, like rice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nevertheless, <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vietnam</place></country-region> and motorbikes are inextricably connected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The place is full of them, and they’re either honking or being honked at.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take <place w:st="on">Saigon</place> for example.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(No one calls it <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Ho Chi Minh City</place></city> except bureaucrats, bankers and foreigners.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The city has between 8 and 10 million inhabitants and almost that many motorbikes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the average workday, many outsiders (Vietnamese word for people from the outer ‘burbs) come into the city on motorbike, so the number of motorbikes actually exceeds the city’s population by a fair amount.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s a lot of motorbikes</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The rest of the country follows suit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From other large cities like <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Hanoi</place></city>, to the remotest village in the mountainous north, motorbikes are everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are at the center of Vietnamese life, as probably the most identifiable status symbol.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Put simply, everyone must have a motorbike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is considered plebeian to walk anywhere, even just a block down the street, so the Vietnamese ride their motorbikes everywhere</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Entire families will ride on a single motorbike, with mom and dad up front, two kids on the back and baby riding the handlebars. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Students socialize by riding around on their motorbikes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When they decide to stop, they all just hang out on their bikes before they start them up and move to another location to hang out on their bikes again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve seen everything imaginable being transported on motorbikes, including a full sized couch, large live animals and full grown trees; in rush hour traffic no less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve even had to dodge them in the heart of crowded markets where there didn’t appear to be room for a chicken, let alone a bike.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The abundance of motorbikes leads to some interesting traffic patterns, because even though they dominate the road, they aren’t the only thing on the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether in a city or rural setting, motorbikes have to share the road with trucks, cars, cyclos (bicycles with seats over the front road driven by unscrupulous crooks – a story for another day), bicycles, livestock and, lowest on the totem pole, us pedestrians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At first glance it would appear that there are no driving rules in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vietnam</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Traffic comes across as complete chaos, with traffic lights and road signs being ignored in favour of incessant honking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take a closer look, though, and there are certain patterns that suggest a kind of underground set of rules.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll do my best to explain them as I understand them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first rule seems to be that in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vietnam</place></country-region> size really does matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bigger the vehicle the more damage it could inflict on anything else in its path, so it has the right of way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This results in things like large trucks pulling out into a busy road regardless of red lights, stop signs or children playing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The second rule is to continually honk if you see another vehicle of any type ahead of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This rule causes a lot of noise in urban areas, because there are vehicles everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, it is necessary because it results from a debilitating condition inherent in almost all Vietnamese people, that being the inability to turn their heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since they can’t turn their heads, they can’t look to see if someone is coming when they want to pull out into the street, or do a shoulder check when changing lanes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Who am I trying to kid, there are no lanes in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vietnam</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s say they can’t do a shoulder check when they decide to inadvertently swerve back and forth, or decide to exit to the right at the last second when they are way over on the left.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The worst culprits by far are the motorbike drivers, which is surprising because they stand to lose the most if they get hit by a large truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite this, motorbikes are constantly pulling out onto main roads without even a glance to see if anything is coming, and cutting in front of whomever they please.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So the honking rule often trumps rule number one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example, truck drivers may be aggressive, but they don’t really want to kill anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, even though they are bigger, their only recourse when a backfiring motorbike cuts them off is to lay on the horn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They could run over the imbecile, but the paperwork would be endless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So they send out a warning honk and the motorbike usually clears off to the side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, once warned the motorbike had indeed better get the hell out of the way because now the truck driver has followed rule number two and can at this stage run the motorbike over without guilt if its honks are ignored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s rule number three: if rule number two is ignored, go back to rule number one.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that’s pretty well it, unless, of course, you’re unfortunate enough to be a pedestrian.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pedestrians are the lowest of the low.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re on foot, you’re on your own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just stay out of the way and hope for the best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This goes for streets, sidewalks and anywhere else a motorized vehicle could be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’ll warn you with a blaring of the horn, but you had better be prepared to duck into a doorway or dive into a rice paddy because they are not slowing down.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite all of this, there seems to be very few accidents in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vietnam</place></country-region>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The best I can tell it's the result of all the honking and nothing else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The motorbike drivers may be maniacs that never look anywhere other than forward, and no one seems all that interested in traffic signs, but none of that matters. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone’s in your way – honk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you hear honking - get out of the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s as simple as that.</span></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-27288918856981776692011-03-02T08:56:00.000-08:002011-03-02T16:33:54.594-08:00Whatever You Do, Don’t Touch Your People Making Stick: Vietnamese Cooking 101<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUZOi4LvdIjFwaaAKEcrwbBqUMLn3_jkOp3bU8YrmpLkdGTfQcimyMJ51OGLvjXRhtpfQkZsycb1o963aacPDJQqiHuZQa_ZxXUVvOCA3UsKikefwhNrTwb0VZ2ofwktitL7Fdw/s1600/IMGP9082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUZOi4LvdIjFwaaAKEcrwbBqUMLn3_jkOp3bU8YrmpLkdGTfQcimyMJ51OGLvjXRhtpfQkZsycb1o963aacPDJQqiHuZQa_ZxXUVvOCA3UsKikefwhNrTwb0VZ2ofwktitL7Fdw/s320/IMGP9082.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What Is Going On Here?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If there’s one thing you’d never associate with my sister and me, it’s cooking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I want to eat at home I don’t open the refrigerator, I pick up the phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(My refrigerator is reserved for storing stale dated condiments and booze.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beth isn’t much better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So what came over us to sign up for a full day deluxe Vietnamese cooking class at a fine restaurant in Hoi An?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I blame Beth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever the cause, it’s the reason we showed up bright and early the other morning at a café in the heart of the old town, prepared for the worst.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Red Bridge cooking school offers two single day classes; one a half day session for folks who are marginally interested in cooking, while the other is an intensive all day affair for master chef wannabes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beth and I obviously intended to take the half day class, but upon arrival at the meeting place we saw a room full of gray haired, dour faced seniors from <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Germany</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were not pleased with the prospect of having to spend the next 4 to 5 hours with that humourless lot.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fortunately, we spotted four much younger folks sitting at a table in a corner having a lively chat about traveling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I strolled over to see what they were doing there in geriatric central and learned that they were the only ones who had signed up for the full day course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hmmm…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A half day with 20 bitter Germans, or a full day with four fun Australians?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t have to think twice. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Herb and Spice Garden</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The agenda for the full day course consisted of several stops around town to pick up supplies followed by the class at a facility on the outskirts of town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our guide Su packed all eight of us (including herself and the driver) into a taxi and we headed to a local herb and spice garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a beautiful setting where herbs and spices have been grown organically for <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>many years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We strolled through the plots while our guide introduced us to the myriad of flavour accents available to the Vietnamese cook: Asian basil, several kinds of mint, dill, chives (grown for the tourists, the Vietnamese hate the stuff), sawtooth coriander, lemongrass, turmeric…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was quite an astounding array. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yum!” one of the Aussie girls exclaimed while taking in the aroma of some freshly crushed Vietnamese basil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No say yum in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vietnam</place></country-region>!” our guide cautioned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It mean you horny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if you horny, not polite to say to Vietnamese people.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beth and I decided it would be particularly bad form for her or me to use the Y word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The couples could potentially get away with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But just to be sure between she and I, everything was “tasty” from that moment on.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Man With Dual Talents</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The herb gardens are still watered by hand. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An older gentleman was more than willing to show off his well honed technique of filling two large watering cans from a well, then swinging them in unison to evenly water the rows of herbs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My guess is that as soon as we left he lit a butt and picked up a hose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even so, it was still entertaining all the same.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the garden’s main house we watched women prepare some Vietnamese specialties, including shrimp and pork rice pancakes, and then we were offered a refreshing mint drink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our hosts of course didn’t tell us that the little floaty bits were frog eggs until we had all downed our beverages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NameThat Vegetable</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next stop was a local market where we would load up on food items. Vietnamese markets are similar to those in most other Asian countries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re crowded, noisy, open air affairs with yelling vendors competing for the attention of hoards of pushy little shoppers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything is on display and in your face, from exotic fruits and vegetables to raw fish and meat (a disturbing amount of which is still alive).</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recently Among The Living</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We followed Su through the ramshackle maze of stalls while she introduced us to the various ingredients we’d soon be preparing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had an introduction to rice noodle making, and were filled in on the finer points of rice paper and rice pancakes. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She showed us an incredible variety of exotic vegetables and fruit, the names of which I will never remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I was too busy playing a game of “guess what part of the animal that is?”)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">None of us had had breakfast, so we were offered a Vietnamese specialty - duck embryos scooped straight from the eggshell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>FYI - they look revolting, have assorted crunchy bits, and taste (not surprisingly) like chicken.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZxpYsCnuix8kL0dUxI7sZnchDEOAWaoyMLlGF2jxEmxg-mHZBHJCMlSJDan9tGwYtcjjkBJMt-IGhRgSfr19J_LU95SzPwIKbdL5hbuxQD20xc1BuAe_msA8FgS6Kv_Z-5xeXg/s1600/IMGP9044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZxpYsCnuix8kL0dUxI7sZnchDEOAWaoyMLlGF2jxEmxg-mHZBHJCMlSJDan9tGwYtcjjkBJMt-IGhRgSfr19J_LU95SzPwIKbdL5hbuxQD20xc1BuAe_msA8FgS6Kv_Z-5xeXg/s320/IMGP9044.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmmmm! Baby Duck!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We picked up the bulk of our produce from the same woman, leading one of the girls in our group to ask Su how Vietnamese shoppers choose which purveyor to buy from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To us they all seemed to be selling the same stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Simple” she replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This woman has nice smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looks honest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I buy from her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t buy from that woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She ugly.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were learning so much.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Torture Chamber</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Armed with bags full of herbs and food, we once again stuffed into the taxi and drove to the Red Bridge Restaurant and <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Cooking</placename> <placetype w:st="on">School</placetype></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nestled amongst exotic ferns and trees along the river, it couldn’t have been located in a more beautiful setting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The open air teaching kitchen was situated next to an inviting swimming pool with plenty of refreshing breezes providing respite from the heat and humidity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If only the whole spectacle didn’t have to be ruined by a cooking class.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But cooking was our focus, so cooking was unavoidable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The menu looked delicious, if not a tad formidable: Hanoi Beef and Rice Noodle Soup, Lemongrass Shrimp Wrapped in Banana Leaf, Clay Pot Fish with Fresh Dill, and Grilled Chicken and Banana Flower Salad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other students were all amateur chefs and welcomed the challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was looking for a stand-in who never showed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR6mO-zU0eElde12Tg5rG865EqMNEnIbHjqSOa1gds0TltQ0OxCbSHTZ3bz5fpb1YwrZzKHE2u-Ae7Ox6-gz2fAYgl-ELQUdh2OINe9XXl-uF0j9BDnow4oJKPAb3OBpmzYXeRJA/s1600/IMGP9076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR6mO-zU0eElde12Tg5rG865EqMNEnIbHjqSOa1gds0TltQ0OxCbSHTZ3bz5fpb1YwrZzKHE2u-Ae7Ox6-gz2fAYgl-ELQUdh2OINe9XXl-uF0j9BDnow4oJKPAb3OBpmzYXeRJA/s320/IMGP9076.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yours Truly Making Rice Paper Under Het's Watchful Eye</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To ensure that Beth and I would be particularly humiliated by the whole process, we had an instructor whose demeanour was a cross between Julia Childs and Adolph Hitler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her name was Het and her playful foodie banter was often accentuated by “achtung” like orders to stir more vigorously or pay attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d demonstrate a procedure faster than a carnie doing the pea in the shell game, then hand the implements over to one of the students and slap our hands when we didn’t do it right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beth and I still have the bruises as proof.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exotic Foreign Cooking Implements</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stir Faster!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perhaps Het’s most poignant instructions came after we had all chopped up some particularly hot peppers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had some pretty lethal firepower on our hands (literally) and she had only our most precious interests at heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wasn’t worried about our eyes or anything as rudimentary as that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, she ordered us all to head straight to the bathroom to wash our hands, and cautioned only the men to “Remember, whatever you do, don’t touch your people making sticks!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was liking her more and more as the day progressed.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cooking Goes Better With Tiger Beer!</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I liked her even better when after an hour or so she announced “Cooking goes much better with beer!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that point she unlocked the cooler and the Tiger Beer started flowing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not like I was counting or anything, but I believe the tally was four beers down before noon, and at least seven or eight each consumed before Het realized that she had some serious problem drinkers on her hands and promptly re-locked the cooler.</span></div></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the end, the class was a huge success.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our group had tons of fun being ordered around by the cooking nazi, especially when we realized her methods were actually working.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before we knew it, she had us making rice paper and noodles, grinding spices, folding banana leaves and generally emulating Vietnamese chefs like we’d been at it for years.</span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> When it was all over, we sat down to enjoy the fruits of our labour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m quite serious when I say it was some of the best food I had during my entire time in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vietnam</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each dish was packed with flavour, something I can’t say for most of the meals I have ordered in restaurants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And those flavours were exquisite; beautifully balanced and absolutely bursting on our taste buds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the end product was any indication, we had passed our cooking class with flying colours!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, if only I can remember half of what we learned when I get home so I can replicate it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh well, not to worry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know there are plenty of Vietnamese restaurants in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vancouver</place></city> that deliver. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWJHArLEFNx0pTxm0MlgXtKxNWzMYN00gkr9sSvznfqSxEj03Pf_btlGhCrOu-cHNlgj0Lh9VxSk_y52oLkRKsY_ZkP2hG7vC-zOQShIf4g3gX4baMwDvANWO5BTqgoNaP2sm0Q/s1600/IMGP9116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWJHArLEFNx0pTxm0MlgXtKxNWzMYN00gkr9sSvznfqSxEj03Pf_btlGhCrOu-cHNlgj0Lh9VxSk_y52oLkRKsY_ZkP2hG7vC-zOQShIf4g3gX4baMwDvANWO5BTqgoNaP2sm0Q/s200/IMGP9116.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best Pho EVER!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdDPHxtA5jIRYyghrBoSoeEha8-MBnm-a6OAQ641gvrcrdWTbDbwETZg78vViF95GzLfFKNuh4hFyqwIZLPr5xpC5aMDCIF7V3LuIJ4Yr0uWkL1yYxoMf0WCoI1IpfgU1AMwd2A/s1600/IMGP9121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdDPHxtA5jIRYyghrBoSoeEha8-MBnm-a6OAQ641gvrcrdWTbDbwETZg78vViF95GzLfFKNuh4hFyqwIZLPr5xpC5aMDCIF7V3LuIJ4Yr0uWkL1yYxoMf0WCoI1IpfgU1AMwd2A/s200/IMGP9121.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best Salad Ever? Probably!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div> <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhg-r5rf6ee-xqKgZb6yNeSbxH9fvMfQtdGxXqWRRpaj8x6pjMDmtnCAvyRFNO0TtUjtDaqGysMqbyyqAnf8Ejg08n4x6rx8VOmMsIWmebnafLNEcJKdghJcBJtXtQmrkuRWLwvw/s1600/IMGP9123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhg-r5rf6ee-xqKgZb6yNeSbxH9fvMfQtdGxXqWRRpaj8x6pjMDmtnCAvyRFNO0TtUjtDaqGysMqbyyqAnf8Ejg08n4x6rx8VOmMsIWmebnafLNEcJKdghJcBJtXtQmrkuRWLwvw/s320/IMGP9123.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You Call That a Banana Leaf?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-27705408197281641042011-02-26T03:31:00.000-08:002011-02-26T03:31:28.405-08:00Rush Hour on the Mekong Delta<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In stark contrast to the chaotic streets of Saigon, the Mekong Delta provided plenty of opportunity for cycling through rice paddies and little villages. Oh, and meeting new friends, too...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzTrodk70oovdLLo4azuX83gyE9-mNaKZ4lqY3ZvvjcyO-B4hgVZy0CLmwzxQD0OTrLFjnq9eG03EE' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-43962467338692002272011-02-21T18:39:00.000-08:002011-02-21T18:39:20.307-08:00Crossing the street in Ho Chi Minh City<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Perth anymore...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gone are the wide open spaces - beaches without another soul and roads without another vehicle. The laid back attitude of Western Australia is long behind me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In its place - the semi-chaotic world that is Ho Chi Minh City (still Saigon to pretty well everyone who lives here). There are over 10 million people in HCMC, and as far as I can tell over 20 million scooters and motorbikes. It has taken a while to become comfortable with some of even the most basic tasks that I normally take for granted, like crossing the street, for instance. More thoughts later, but for now, a short video clip just to give you a taste of the sights and sounds involved with getting to the other side of the street...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzaCYJHg9oikhKzU28SXFPMZvPdtSj1GlbaSicr3vM4P8sFOB4AUB6Zwui5Hf4litYA_WKQ3lfJMYE' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-7142029705391416272011-02-18T02:11:00.000-08:002011-02-18T02:11:48.227-08:00Who The Hell Did Australia Piss-off?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region> is indeed a magnificent country, not only because of its sheer magnitude but its incredible variety as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve managed to see a lot of it over the last 7 weeks, traveling many miles, meeting lots of people and taking heaps of photos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My schedule has been pretty wide open, which is just how I like it, but for this journey it simply couldn’t have been any other way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter where I’ve visited, I’ve ended up fleeing floods or evacuating before cyclones or running from bush fires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would appear that <country-region w:st="on">Australia</country-region> is under siege, beset by plagues of biblical proportions, leading an ex-workmate of mine to quite aptly ask “Who the hell did <place w:st="on"><country-region w:st="on">Australia</country-region></place> piss off, ‘cause they’re sure getting their ass kicked?!?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> was a great way to get the trip started; visiting good friends, watching the tennis and keeping a relatively slow pace accented by many “flat white” coffees and a few beers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also threw in a long weekend in <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Sydney</city></place> to visit some of the sights and compare the two cities. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weather was “unseasonably unstable” as my friend liked to say, leading to our cancelling a drive along the <street w:st="on"><address w:st="on">Great Ocean Road</address></street> where sections were washed out due to heavy rain. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I lingered longer than planned in the south because next on my agenda was <state w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Queensland</place></state>, which as far as I could tell from the news was completely under water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The floods weren’t directly affecting the <place w:st="on">Great Barrier Reef</place>, which was my destination, however the cyclones that were bringing all the water most certainly were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I watched the weather forecast carefully and when about a week long window of sunshine finally appeared between deluges, I flew straight to <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Airlie</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Beach</placetype></place>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About a week was all mother nature granted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My signal to fly had been when Cyclone Anthony weakened and headed out to sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, it sat about 700 kms offshore, brooded for a while, then decided to grow and turn back on <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, while I was on a delightful 3 day / 3 night sailing trip to the outer reef, the captain was carefully monitoring the radar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only was Anthony on its way, but just behind was Yasi, promising to be much, much larger.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even so, the sailing trip was superb, offering awesome snorkeling and breathtaking views of the <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Whitsunday</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Islands</placetype></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the highlights was a visit to pristine <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Whitehaven</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Beach</placetype></place>, an uninhabited coastline with miles of white sand and meandering estuaries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ripple patterns in the sand were the stuff of impressionist paintings, with schools of rays hanging about to make the whole thing that much more magical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily our group arrived first, because in no time boatloads of backpackers arrived, shattering the picture postcard and turning it into <place w:st="on">Coney Island</place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some Aussie boys even started a game of Australian Rules Football, a rough and tumble bastardization of rugby sure to ruin any good stroll along a deserted beach.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Snorkeling along the <place w:st="on">Great Barrier Reef</place> wasn’t bad either, as I swam with turtles, marvelled at brightly coloured corals and fish, and came face to face with a white tipped shark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, as soon as our sailing vessel returned to <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Airlie</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Beach</placetype></place> I had to make plans to flee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anthony was less than 36 hours away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was earlier than I had planned to leave the reef.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next up on my agenda was the coastline of <state w:st="on">Western Australia</state>, starting with a visit with friends in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Perth</place></city>, but I had a few days before they were expecting me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I looked at a map and drew a line between <placename w:st="on">Airlie</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Beach</placetype> and <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Perth</city></place> to see what was in between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turned out to be about 4000 km of absolutely nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing, that is, except for one rather famous large rock sticking out of the desert in what can only be described as literally the middle of nowhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I booked a flight to Ayers Rock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Like in many parts of the world, the name for a location given by European explorers has been changed to the name used by the indigenous people of the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We see this in my hometown of <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vancouver</place></city> as the signs from the city to the Whistler ski resort are now full of unpronounceable native Indian words, often including the number 7.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, Ayers Rock is known by its Aboriginal name Ulu<u>r</u>u.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure how to pronounce the underlined letter, but when I call it Ayers Rock, travellers look at me like I’m swearing and Australians look at me like family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strangely, the local airport is still called Ayers Rock, so when someone accuses me of being insensitive to Aboriginals by not saying Ulu<u>r</u>u, I simply claim to be referring to where my plane landed.) </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ulu<u>r</u>u is everything you’ve heard and expected, but so much more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s an icon that we’ve all seen in pictures, but they just don’t do it justice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s magical in its dimensions, colors, and more importantly, its presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the same time, you don’t get labelled as one of the wonders of the world without attracting the odd tourist, and attract them Ulu<u>r</u>u does – in droves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sunset and sunrise “viewings” are standing room only, with every language imaginable chattering away in the background.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet somehow Ulu<u>r</u>u manages to hold your focus, even when annoying tourists from England are trying to convince the Germans they’ve just met that Wimbledon is so much better than the Australian Open because, “well, it’s just more British, isn’t it?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Sometimes I’m glad I only speak one language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure I could handle overhearing any additional inane chatter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even conversations about Lady Gaga’s nail polish sound exotic in a foreign tongue.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The desert around Ulu<u>r</u>u had been receiving much more rain than usual, so the landscape was considerably greener than normal for the season, leading to some stunning photo ops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rain had also brought an unseasonal explosion of insects and bugs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My ridiculously overpriced room was a bit of an entomologist’s wet dream, especially when turning on the light to head for a late night pee. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I eventually decided it was better to just wander about in the dark and not think about the crunching noises under foot.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My wallet couldn’t handle another night at the Ayers Rock resort, so I carried on to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Perth</place></city>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My timing couldn’t have been better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>According to the news in <city w:st="on">Perth</city>, <place w:st="on">Alice Springs</place> (the closest town to Ulu<u>r</u>u at a mere 5 hours to the north) and environs had been hit with massive rains. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><place w:st="on">Alice Springs</place> itself had become a swimming pool, complete with unhappy, newly homeless, poisonous snakes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Perth</place></city> brought a welcome reprise from the traveling life, as I stayed with friends in the city’s northern suburbs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mind you, suburbia in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Perth</place></city> isn’t what you might expect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our days were spent riding bikes to the local beach and having a dip before the surf came up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d watch the surfers in the calm of the morning and kite surfers in the afternoon winds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the evenings we’d barbeque and listen to the various exotic birds sing song overhead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yup, it was pretty good and not a cyclone in sight.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the weekend we did what any city folk would, we drove out into wine country and watched polo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now isn’t that the life - sitting on blankets sipping Sauvignon Blanc and cheering on the ponies?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was just one small complication.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we looked back over the horse prep area, we couldn’t help but notice large billows of smoke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, we could occasionally smell the smoke over all the horse sweat and shit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We inquired and the landowner informed us that large sections of the <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Swan</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Valley</placetype></place> were beset by out of control bush fires!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some were quite close, he mentioned in a typically understated Australian fashion, but we were protected by “The River”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Further prying resulted in us realizing that said river was a creek at best, and was located about 100 meters away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We decided that it didn’t look like a very good bush fire barrier to us, and high tailed it out of there.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All told, more than 90 homes were lost to the <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Perth</place></city> bush fires, and with polo playing types living in the area, you can imagine the scale of the homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The premier had declared the area a state of emergency, a concept that seemed lost on our polo pals at the time.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I could tell an omen when I saw one, and decided that was my indication to leave the comforts of the ‘burbs and head out on a road trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time my destination was north up the <state w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Western Australia</place></state> coastline, a region resplendent with white sand beaches and turquoise water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a rental car, credit card and about 11 days to kill.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ll spare you the details as I don’t have the time to write them all down and I know you don’t have the patience to slog through them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, there were certainly some highlights worth mention:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>the Pinnacles: curious limestone features poking out of sand dunes, absolutely stunning at sunset</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>Kalbarri: home to the <place w:st="on">Murchison River</place> gorge where I joined a canoe trip deep into the canyon to observe the brilliant red cliffs</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>Monkey Mia/Shark Bay: a world heritage site boasting some of the only stromatolites remaining on earth (exciting to geologists and no one else) and dolphins that swim into the bay every morning to show off and to be fed (exciting to everyone else)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>Coral Bay/Ningaloo Reef: the world’s largest fringing reef, meaning some of the most spectacular snorkeling and diving in the world is only 30 to 40 meters off shore</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Coral</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Bay</placetype></place> actually deserves some elaboration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The town is so small as to not even be incorporated, consisting of some accommodation and minimal services, but it serves as a great access point to the reef.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I snorkeled with manta rays, watched sharks get their teeth cleaned by small fish that I dubbed “dental hygienists”, and marvelled at some of the brightest coral I have ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I planned to spend my last days in <country-region w:st="on">Australia</country-region> at <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Coral</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Bay</placetype></place>, snorkeling every morning and relaxing in the afternoons when the winds came up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was just one small problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the drive up from Monkey Mia there had been major flooding, with water flowing over the highway in many locations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each evening I was in <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Coral</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Bay</placetype></place>, thunderstorms provided brilliant light shows, but also dumped huge amounts of water on the region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rumours began to circulate that the road, the only connection back to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Perth</place></city>, would soon be closed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, rather than be stuck in the North when my non-refundable flight to <country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</country-region> left <city w:st="on">Perth</city>, I again changed my plans and left <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Coral</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Bay</placetype></place> a day early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There weren’t as many river crossings on the return trip, but there was one pretty hairy spot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The flood indicator on the side of the road showed a water depth of 0.4 meters and the current was strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point while crossing I could feel the car begin to lose grip and shimmy sideways with the flow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I envisioned my little compact being washed away into the Outback (and me with it), but it managed to find traction and I was on my way.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That’s the benefit of being flexible with travel plans. I had an extra day on my hands, so did a quick flip through the Lonely Planet and decided to drive past <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Perth</place></city> to Rockingham, home to about 180 wild dolphins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The attraction to this location is that the dolphins love to play with humans, providing an opportunity to swim with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a glorious way to spend my last day in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dolphins whirled around us as we swam, squealing all the while (us and the dolphins).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As our boat sped back to the dock, they swam along with us, performing acrobatics in our wake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Afterwards, I made a quick stop to visit an island with rare little penguins and then headed for the airport, confident that I had squeezed everything I possibly could out of my last hours in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While driving to the airport, I heard a weather warning on the radio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Coral</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Bay</placetype></place> was bracing for a cyclone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The community, and many others in the region, were on alert and expected to be evacuated within days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It figures” I thought to myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This country is surely cursed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everywhere I go there’s been storms, flooding, fires…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then it hit me – I wasn’t happy to be leaving <country-region w:st="on">Australia</country-region>, but then again, perhaps <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region> wasn’t too sorry to be seeing the last of my ass?</span></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-77685837410814253442011-02-17T06:21:00.000-08:002011-02-17T06:26:40.699-08:00You Turn, I Turn, We All Turn!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Driving in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region> ain’t easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trust me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to make five u-turns today while driving through <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Perth</place></city>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it isn’t just because they drive on the left side of the road here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s actually the least of your worries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me explain by means of a few “lessons learned” from my last 11 days on the road in WA.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>They hide the road signs</u>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not that they hide all the road signs, only the ones you need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll be driving along the freeway, merrily counting off the kms until the town you want to visit, when suddenly you realize your destination is no longer listed on any of the recent road signs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turns out that to get to your destination you wanted to exit on Thomas Road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only problem is, there is no sign to tell you that you need to exit on Thomas Road!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s only when you’ve already exited and are at the top of the offramp that, if you’re lucky, there’s an arrow pointing you in the right direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s gotta be worth at least a couple u-turns a day.</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>The road signs are pretty well useless.</u><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if you are lucky enough to see a road sign, chances are it’s of no use to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is because Australian road signs don’t use helpful notations like direction (i.e. North, or South).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, they just list off random town names that happen to be in that general direction, and point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The road you’re about to take may not even go to any of those towns!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even worse, they seem to choose which towns to post in a frustratingly haphazard manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your destination may have been good enough to make the previous sign, but what to do at a roundabout where lots of towns you’ve never heard of and can’t see on a map are listed, yet yours isn’t?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You eventually make a u-turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s what.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Road numbers don’t matter.</u><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You would think that once you are on a road major enough to warrant a road number that you’re pretty safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, you would be wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region> assigns lots of numbers to lots of roads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region> also reserves the right to remove that number at any time and without warning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not that you missed a turn or anything, the number just ceases to exist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even more exasperating, half way across the city the number simply reappears!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No explanations are given, no excuses made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You simply curse the numbers and make yet another u-turn.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>How about street names?</u><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See road numbers, but assume even more randomness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turn around.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>You can’t turn left on a red light</u>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who knew?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The officer won’t be very sympathetic either when you tell him that at home in your country you are free to do the equivalent, a right turn, on a red light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This doesn’t necessarily result in a u-turn, but it certainly adds to the frustration.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So there you have it, the main reasons for me having to complete six u-turns today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I said five earlier, but I missed my turn driving home from dinner and had to make another one.</span></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-69900042028447257492011-02-03T00:06:00.000-08:002011-02-03T00:06:44.762-08:00Sydney vs. Melbourne<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sydney and Melbourne: it’s hard to imagine how two cities in the same country, located reasonably close together and in similar geographic settings, can be so different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But alas, how different they are!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The causes are numerous, and include history and politics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet these are well documented and a little dull, so rather than analyze the why, what follows are my observations as to how.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">If <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city> was a high school kid, she’d be the good looking one who excels at everything, from scholastic pursuits to varsity sports. She’s brash, confident and bound to succeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As if in direct response to <city w:st="on">Sydney</city>’s clean-cut image, <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> has decided to be one of the cool kids hanging out by the smoking doors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With her edgy personality and self-assured funkiness she turns out just fine too, thank you very much. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNrItHDeSoiNzYyujuawLPLJiW9a7W20F2b15BvZyKTl7-CRgb8sCt6JLdOcM1wwTN-I4oL41VD1ADzOJQ9zOpqdZoPWA6feYwslvvF55Q5ASCvH3kd-rB3j3lUKYncoTKXCaRg/s1600/Opera+House+sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNrItHDeSoiNzYyujuawLPLJiW9a7W20F2b15BvZyKTl7-CRgb8sCt6JLdOcM1wwTN-I4oL41VD1ADzOJQ9zOpqdZoPWA6feYwslvvF55Q5ASCvH3kd-rB3j3lUKYncoTKXCaRg/s320/Opera+House+sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Opera House</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sydney</span></place></city><span style="font-family: Arial;"> has the harbour, and oh what a harbour it is!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the saying goes it’s all about location, location, location.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city> has more waterfront than I’ve ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A tour guide alleged that there’s 56 km of it within the city. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether true or not (this particular operator regaled us with Whitney Houston, Britney Spears, and Billy Ocean as we toured the harbour, which to me discredits anything they had to say),<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>there’s enough to provide ample opportunity for stunning vistas and seaside activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as if the harbour isn’t enough on its own, <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city> has thrown in The Bridge and The Opera House just so there’s absolutely no debate as to who is the fairest of them all.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"> <div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVN8bHtmSp8-SRPOG-g5K1ULwznsDshZtJ28WIvFOBFQWUueUmwNLwBlTW3a-arbnuu2PMF5RlFWv9Y7ndjgdovrzGnMvQVjrAHQw9d9ZkKImF7ysc6nhfo5POhfanCC8qdfq3dg/s1600/Mlb+Skyline+sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVN8bHtmSp8-SRPOG-g5K1ULwznsDshZtJ28WIvFOBFQWUueUmwNLwBlTW3a-arbnuu2PMF5RlFWv9Y7ndjgdovrzGnMvQVjrAHQw9d9ZkKImF7ysc6nhfo5POhfanCC8qdfq3dg/s320/Mlb+Skyline+sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melbourne Skyline over the Yarra River</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><city w:st="on"><place w:st="on"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Melbourne</span></place></city><span style="font-family: Arial;"> has waterfront, too, with much of it quite beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the city isn’t centered on the ocean; rather the CBD (central business district) has built up around the winding <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Yarra</placename> <placetype w:st="on">River</placetype></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Eureka Tower is the obvious landmark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Standing 297 m above the banks of the Yarra, it is visible from many miles away and is easily the tallest "inhabitable" building in the southern hemisphere?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (A tower in Queensland is taller by means of a radio antenna on the roof. Hardly comparable.) </span>It is the centerpiece of a very pleasant, modern central core where skyscrapers meet bike paths and café culture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, no matter what <city w:st="on">Melbourne</city>’s best efforts could be, as far as location and natural beauty are concerned, <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city> gets the nod.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"> <div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Central Quay is the hub of <city w:st="on">Sydney</city> harbour, teaming with charming yellow and green ferries connecting many of the outlying neighbourhoods to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city>’s CBD.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The harbour is a constant coming and going of ferries of all sizes, with the odd cruise ship added to the mix for good measure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The quay is alive every day of the week, with tourists and business types alike, creating the perfect location for street performers and mini-marts that charge exorbitant amounts of money for a 0.5 l bottle of water.</span></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LRj76zWnfFvgeFbaen0mFBVldU75NR5UrMbYn49bhv5HVR84cNdyANkwSAJNUPRzo1Wr8fyCQShIGOsA1YI5toqerCPJIkWCHZrt7e9LiUQvvRCwGEI9gcU_B0s7X_Jy3wqoWA/s1600/Harbour+Bridge+from+Quay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LRj76zWnfFvgeFbaen0mFBVldU75NR5UrMbYn49bhv5HVR84cNdyANkwSAJNUPRzo1Wr8fyCQShIGOsA1YI5toqerCPJIkWCHZrt7e9LiUQvvRCwGEI9gcU_B0s7X_Jy3wqoWA/s320/Harbour+Bridge+from+Quay.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harbour Bridge from Central Quay</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><city w:st="on"><place w:st="on"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Melbourne</span></place></city><span style="font-family: Arial;">’s alternative to the ferries is trams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The entire city is connected by a network of trams that run on tracks down the center of most major roads in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the trams are modern, while others date back to the days of wooden slat seats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a comprehensive, if not painfully slow, means of getting about town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trams have a certain aesthetic appeal, yet my vote would likely be for the ferries - save for one peculiarity resulting from the trams that is completely unique to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city>:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hook Turns.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Now remember that Australians drive on the left side of the road, so a right hand turn crosses the path of oncoming traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anywhere else in the world, a right hand turn would be done by pulling into the right lane, or right turn lane, and yielding until it’s safe to turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> the trams take up the middle of the main roads and they have the right of way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus on these roads (and to complicate matters, only on these roads) an alternative had to be devised.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Enter the Hook Turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of occupying the right lane when they want to turn right, <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> drivers pull over to the curb lane and wait until the light turns yellow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point, once they determine it’s safe to do so, they crank the wheel to the right and dart through the intersection across all the lanes of traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think I’ve got the nerve to do this as it seems to me there would <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never</i> be a safe time to dart across 4 to 6 lanes of traffic, not to mention two tram lines, in the middle of an intersection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would probably either keep driving straight and go somewhere else, or opt for the “three lefts make a right” strategy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Regardless, because of the funky Melbourne Hook Turn, I call ferries vs. trams a tie.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Eating and drinking in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city> is done on a large scale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Restaurants tend to be of a very expansive open area style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re modern, busy, loud and expensive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s that brash confidence coming out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drinking establishments tend to be the same way. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything’s a big beer garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This isn’t necessarily a bad thing because when it’s on, it’s on!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><city w:st="on"><place w:st="on"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Melbourne</span></place></city><span style="font-family: Arial;"> is all about cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Restaurants trend towards small bistros, as opposed to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city>’s sprawling brasseries. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Likewise, the pubs and bars in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> are just that, pubs and bars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Large beer gardens are present, but not the norm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus, <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city>’s numerous eating and drinking establishments are generally small and free to try whatever they please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, they need to be unique and creative to attract patrons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This breeds creativity and style, something those kids at the smoking doors seemed to possess in abundance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The result is something that, in my opinion, <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city> lacks; variety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And after all, variety is the spice of dining and boozing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> is my choice for a meal or libation.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">So far we’ve established that both Sydney and Melbourne have their own distinct personalities and inclinations. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So who wins, and why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">For me, the winner needs to possess something completely unique that sets them apart, from not only the competitor in this little tilt, but other cities around the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for me that thing is <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city>’s laneways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know what substance they were smoking at the smoking doors, but it inspired <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> to reclaim most of its CBD alleyways and convert them into a maze of pedestrian walkways, lined with shops, cafes, restaurants and bars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some are posh, others are covered in graffiti, but it all seems to work in a way that brings vitality and energy to the city’s core.</span></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPvPYleA7buqTgPE68QH5YZ2M2auno1yBJFs3FZfRO-N8MqgIBKBpBxN7uh3ZKjHlwGOPHHfBkov8OdedxfD12Iowf9HcQ_ElWAsumdxWT4YQLMZdkf-cNNxMTQ2unODgu9OZyA/s1600/graffiti+Girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPvPYleA7buqTgPE68QH5YZ2M2auno1yBJFs3FZfRO-N8MqgIBKBpBxN7uh3ZKjHlwGOPHHfBkov8OdedxfD12Iowf9HcQ_ElWAsumdxWT4YQLMZdkf-cNNxMTQ2unODgu9OZyA/s320/graffiti+Girl.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laneway Art</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">I’m not saying that <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city> doesn’t have an energy and vitality of its own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It possesses ample individuality amongst its myriad neighbourhoods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, so do many other great cities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What none of them have is the laneways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><city w:st="on">Sydney</city> vs. <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I say <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">(Oh, and I almost forgot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another area that sets <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> apart is the live music scene.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s no secret that I love live music, and <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> is full of live music venues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s got heaps of small clubs and bigger venues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What do you think the kids at the smoking doors were doing while the other kids played sports?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were in a dark basement somewhere learning how to play guitar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it only makes sense that <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> would have dingy places down grimy alleyways for the bands to play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><city w:st="on">Melbourne</city> has had a vibrant music scene for years, something that has been strangely absent from <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Sydney</place></city>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Nick</placename> <placename w:st="on">Cave</placename></place> over the Opera House?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my books, absolutely!)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><u><span style="font-family: Arial;">Full disclosure</span></u><span style="font-family: Arial;">: Before you think this was a completely unbiased comparison, I must admit to having a number of good friends who live in Melbourne (with whom I’ve stayed with on more than one occasion) while I don’t know a soul in Sydney.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I had chosen Sydney, I’d have never heard the end of it, and would probably have been banned from ever setting foot in Melbourne again!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hands are tied…</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-60292757591388555952011-01-29T17:00:00.000-08:002011-01-29T17:00:36.335-08:00Have You Ever Been To Sea, Davie?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Have you done much sailing?” asked the agent, “because she’ll be a wee windy out there.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was in the process of booking a day long sailing trip from Airlie Beach to an uninhabited little island about 45 km offshore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The sailboat’s a bit small, but the skipper’s really good.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, the extent of my sailing experience has been on small vessels in and around <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Vancouver</city></place>, usually on days when there wasn’t enough wind to fly a kite, let alone sail a boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was merely an excuse to knock back a few cold ones and putter about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But sailing is what you do in <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Airlie</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Beach</placetype></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the gateway to one of the most famous sailing destinations in the world, the Whitsundays. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I booked the trip.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following morning I met our skipper and his boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both had been around for a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reg (the skipper) was 65, originally from <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Holland</place></city>, and apparently got his initial sailing cred with the Ancient Mariners. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His pride and joy is the S. V. Domino, a 36 ft cruiser that he had purchased in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Auckland</place></city> many years prior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reg had sailed her across the notoriously dangerous Tasman Sea from NZ to <city w:st="on">Sydney</city> harbour, so he assured us we would easily make the sail out to ominously named <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Black</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Island</placetype></place>, even in rough seas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, he reminded us more than once, his excursions were now rated number two on Trip Advisor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t about to risk that.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The BOM (Australian Bureau of Meteorology) website had forecast windy conditions in the morning, calming off in the afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been using BOM since I arrived in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So far, the closest it had been to being correct was a day at the Australian Open when they predicted sunny and 30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It turned out to be 19 and rained all day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was optimistically hopeful that BOM had it right this time, but wasn’t prepared bet on it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite the assurances of both Reg and BOM, I couldn’t help humming the Gilligan’s <place w:st="on">Island</place> theme to myself, over and over.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a quick safety discussion, which basically amounted to instructions on how to not fall out of the boat, we were off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Windy it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No sooner had we departed the protection of the harbour than the winds picked up to 20 knots, regularly gusting to over 30 (that’s ~55 km/hr to us landlubbers).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite being partially protected from open seas by the <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Whitsunday</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Islands</placetype></place>, the water was very rough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wind was blowing against an unseasonably high tide, creating frighteningly large and uneven swells. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two other passengers and I looked back and forth at each other trying to appear calm, which is difficult to do when you’re white knuckling the railings.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Regardless, Reg proved to be a very confident captain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He skipped about the boat trimming sails and performing lots of other sailing-type tasks as if we were on land, all the while regaling us with stories from his life at sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were pushing the Domino hard, he informed us, and he wouldn’t have taken us out if the winds were any stronger, but as long as we kept heading forward to the island we’d be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That explains why when my brand new, ridiculously expensive, Australian Open hat blew off my head and into the water, it became a sacrifice to the sea gods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no turning back.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The same could not be said for when the rope pulling the dinghy snapped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A sailboat without a dinghy is like an airplane without landing gear, and our landing gear was disappearing out of sight behind us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reg swore and leaped into action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had to go back for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We “came about” (essentially meaning we turned around – I’m a sailing jargon expert after my one day at sea) in a less than elegant manner that threatened to toss at least one passenger overboard, and made off in the direction of the dinghy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reg chose to ignore my request to fetch my hat while we were at it, even after I threatened to leave nasty comments on Trip Advisor.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a remarkable display of skill, with Reg managing to steer, grab the raft, tie it up and turn us back around completely on his own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact he had ordered us to “sit still and not touch anything”, which was probably to the benefit of everyone involved.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We eventually reached <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Black</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Island</placetype></place> (the tourist books have started calling it Bali Hai Reef in an attempt to stop frightening travellers) in one piece.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We decided <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Black</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Island</placetype></place> was quite appropriate, all things considered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite the BOM forecast, the wind continued to howl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had a short go at snorkeling, but couldn’t see much through the choppy murky water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had our “relaxing picnic lunch on the beach” huddled together in an attempt to block the wind, and still ate as much sand as anything else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We abandoned our “leisurely 2 ½ hours to relax and explore” early and got back on the boat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sail back to <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Airlie</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Beach</placetype></place> was more of the same, but with an exclamation point!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Storms had blown into the area, and our route was dotted with dark clouds and rain squalls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When one particularly bad one hit, I thought we were done for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reg went silent and thrust his jaw into the wind and rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The others appeared to be praying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept repeating “a three hour tour, a three hour tour…” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shakily sipping beers with the other two passengers at the Marina Pub back in <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Airlie</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Beach</placetype></place> later that afternoon, we were surprisingly non-challant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Great day for sailing, wasn’t it?” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Awesome time, eh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would do it again in a second!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And so on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, I can guarantee you that not one of us was having those thoughts when the winds reached 40 knots in the driving rain during our return sail (thanks for the warning, BOM).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If not for the efforts of the fearless Reg, the Domino would surely have been lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks to Reg for an exciting day at sea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The experience was certainly exhilarating but perhaps not quite as bad as I described, as you will undoubtedly see in the following video clip taken on <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Black</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Island</placetype></place>.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyqJWm3x9Wbvomf14DJv37UtFkHyyZVN5WdAEb3wR83ep6vCgvqC7gb0YYgG615CZQIdZMLGY589jY' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-58895003536755362692011-01-29T15:44:00.000-08:002011-01-29T15:44:37.339-08:00Random notes from Australia…<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Mullets</u> – Mullets are everywhere. Guys wear them seriously, not for some Movember-like gag. It isn’t just back country hicks, either, but footballers and surfers. I’d do a photo essay, but fear for my life of ever being caught. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>El Caminos</u> – Remember the old half car/half truck called the El Camino? Ever wonder where they all went? Here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Heels</u> – As in the ones on women’s shoes. Impossibly high ones. It’s a phenom I’ve only observed in Sydney (save for a couple of Vietnamese hookers in Melbourne) and is often accompanied by an impossibly short skirt. All the girls are wearing them, for work and leisure. Note to self: there will be extremely high demand for podiatrists in Sydney in about 10 years time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Classic Rock</u> – At present I’m in a hip little café on the strip in Airlie Beach, surrounded by young backpackers, listening to “Sweet Home Alabama”. This, unfortunately, is not a rare occurrence in Australia. It’s the norm. WTF?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Inane Chatter</u> – Not something restricted to Australia, but prevalent amongst twenty something backpackers from all over the world. Like, I’m not, like, totally against the word “like”, but when it’s used repeatedly while discussing whether or not <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA;">Kanye West</span> is an asshole even though his music is soooo good, I just have to get up and leave the room (which can be hard if you’re, like, on a 3 day sailing trip). And when did guys start like-ing more than girls? I’m beginning to understand how people like me become old curmudgeons.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>$13 pints</u> – Really? $13? For a beer? And you say that with a straight face? (Also applies to $6 small lattes.) Sydney is indeed expensive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Spiders</u> – Yowza! I knew Oz was famous for the buggers, but you gotta see ‘em in real life to appreciate just how big they are.</span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-59081456891155110312011-01-18T20:08:00.000-08:002011-01-19T16:31:24.698-08:002010 - The Year in Music<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My past year in music was all about live shows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three festivals and a slew of gigs led to a very memorable 2010.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result, what follows is a bit of a departure from my usual format for the annual year in music review.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of a top ten list counting down my favourite albums or singles, this is a brief run-through of my hi-lights from a very busy year in concert going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Along the way I’ll mention some of my favourite releases from the past year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2010 started “down under”, as in January my buddy Gary and I headed to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Melbourne</place></city> for some Australian Open Tennis, some sunshine, and the odd beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An extra bonus turned out to be the 5<sup>th</sup> annual Laneway Festival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What had started as a few bands playing in the alleyways of <city w:st="on">Melbourne</city>’s CBD (central business district) has now become a full fledged festival playing all the major cities in <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Australia</place></country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was disappointed to learn that 2010’s headliners <strong><span style="background-color: black;">Echo and the Bunnymen</span></strong> had cancelled due to “sudden illness” (c’mon Ian, you drink a bunch of booze and you get a splitting headache – you should know that by now), but the rest of the line-up was still strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was my first chance to see <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">The XX</span></b> (whose single “Crystallized” made my list last year), and despite a pronounced lack of stage presence they played an enjoyable set.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had also been looking forward to seeing buzz band <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Mumford and Sons</span></b>, but apparently so had everyone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The festival grounds were arranged so that each stage had a relatively small viewing area, so it wasn’t set up for every last person in attendance to try and jam into the band’s set.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got close enough to see what I thought might have been the actual stage and heard some muffled Mumford coming through the crowd noise before I gave up and headed elsewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not to worry though, I’d see them later in the year.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It seemed that the Laneway Festival was not prepared for such a large crowd period.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They ran out of food by mid day, and with “no ins our outs” we left early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We still managed to see some good performances by <span style="background-color: black;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Frightened Rabbit</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Hockey</b></span> and <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Dappled Cities</span></b>, but missed <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">The Dirty Three</span></b> and <span style="background-color: black;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Daniel Johnson</b>.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back in <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vancouver</place></city>, the concert season got going in earnest when <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Black Rebel Motorcycle Club</span></b> hit the Commodore in March. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These guys are often dismissed as nothing but Jesus and Mary Chain clones, but I love that band and they hung ‘em up long ago so if someone else is going to step in and carry the torch, more power to them!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their 2010 release “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Beat The Devil’s Tattoo</span></b>” was on heavy rotation in my various music players all year long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A very strong release and an equally satisfying show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even gave myself a bit of whiplash with all the head thrashing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The May long weekend has been home to the Sasquatch Festival for a decade now, and 2010’s line-up wasn’t only the best in the festival’s history, it was one of the better line-ups I have ever seen anywhere!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t bother listing the bands, but suffice to say I wanted to see almost every one, which led to many scheduling conflicts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re interested, below is a poster from the festival listing all of the acts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Click on it to enlarge and start cursing that you weren’t there.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWEamobqo84_MB0aQORkE5rSeWGaQjodO-KvHYFLCIowT_xvoA74Fmlq9q9IViHECrg7-5eL8nLcvx6chBWrTS-6VowS2Y5rcKug0GzwWiVWtRnl-AFw80bH9eToc2_do_juXFA/s1600/Sasquatch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWEamobqo84_MB0aQORkE5rSeWGaQjodO-KvHYFLCIowT_xvoA74Fmlq9q9IViHECrg7-5eL8nLcvx6chBWrTS-6VowS2Y5rcKug0GzwWiVWtRnl-AFw80bH9eToc2_do_juXFA/s320/Sasquatch.jpg" width="199" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sasquatch is held at The Gorge, a natural amphitheatre in a stunning setting along the Columbia River in <place w:st="on"><placename w:st="on">Washington</placename> <placetype w:st="on">State</placetype></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a main stage, two smaller side stages and a DJ tent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year’s headliners were <span style="background-color: black;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">My Morning Jacket</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Massive Attack</b> and <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Ween</b></span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You couldn’t find three more dissimilar bands, yet all put on great shows that kept capacity crowds entertained right to the finish of each night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Morning Jacket played an extended set of their energy filled anthems, while Massive Attack offered precision renderings of old and new material.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Their new album <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Heligoland</span></b> was one of my favourite releases of 2010.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Ween?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ween was just Ween.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sloppy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stoned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Awesome!</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were too many great performances to mention, including sets from <span style="background-color: black;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Laura Marling</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Mumford and Sons</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">New Pornographers</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Hold Steady</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Band of Horses</b></span> and on and on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two of the crowd favorites from a “get yer dance on” standpoint were <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Miike Snow</span></b> and <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes</span></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bands are a contrast in styles, with Miike Snow leaning towards pop-synth while Edward Sharpe belts out hippie tinged rock, but both had massive crowds bopping from start to finish.</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many people’s choice for best performance (including mine) came from <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">LCD Soundsystem</span></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their latest release <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">This Is Happening</span></b> is undoubtedly one of my favourites from 2010.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their live shows have become legendary, combining James Murphy’s personality and sharp lyrics with unparalleled beats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had the entire amphitheatre at Sasquatch dancing and screaming along as the sun set behind the stage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Utterly brilliant.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And a shout out to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Deadmou5</span></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not an electronica dance guy (hell, I don’t even know what the current terms are for categorizing dance music), but his midnight show was a visual extravaganza.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I planned to watch for a song or two, but stayed for the whole set, mesmerized by the visuals and light show while the young kids danced their faces off.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One considerable drawback to the Sasquatch Festival is the accommodations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your choices are camping, camping or camping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though we were in the “VIP” area, it was still over crowded, with line-ups for showers starting at 5 AM and the inevitable disgusting toilets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure I’d do it again without a luxury motor home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, many thanks to <place w:st="on">Shannon</place> for bringing along all of the camping gear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without her I may not have survived!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A striking juxtaposition to Sasquatch is the Austin City Limits festival, held annually in September in <placename w:st="on">Zilker</placename> <placetype w:st="on">Park</placetype>, <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Austin</city>, <state w:st="on">Texas</state></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whereas prospects for food and comfort are abysmal when the music ends at Sasquatch, ACL is in the heart of one of the great towns in the <country-region w:st="on"><place w:st="on">US</place></country-region>, so the end of a day at the festival is only the beginning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The 2010 ACL headliners were anything but inspiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Muse</span></b> is bearable, but the jam-band guitar wank of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Phish</span></b> is anything but.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">The Eagles</span></b>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are they still alive?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those bands couldn’t get me out of bed, let alone thousands of miles away to a festival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet that’s the beauty of ACL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The festival is full of other interesting bands to keep you occupied during the day, and when you leave the park, the city of <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Austin</place></city> awaits with its great restaurants and bars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even better, many of the bands do aftershows, providing the opportunity to see them doing a longer set in a small club. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A couple of standouts from this year were <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Beach House</span></b> and <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Broken Bells</span></b>. I mention Beach House primarily on the strength of their 2010 release <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Teen Dream</span>, </b>a beautiful collection of atmospheric, dreamy pop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may very well have been my most listened to release this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Either it or the new BRMC – toss up.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, their live performance didn’t quite live up to the album, but hey, the lead singer is a stunning French woman, so how bad can it be?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Broken Bells, on the other hand, played a set that was at least as interesting as their strong self titled 2010 release.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The album is by the Shins' James Mercer with producer and Gnarls Barkley member Danger Mouse, and it’s a fun if not slightly melancholy pop record. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They perform live as a full band, providing for lots of opportunities to stray from the album and mix it up, which they did wonderfully at ACL.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were a number of repeats from the Sasquatch festival at ACL, plus many other good performances from the likes of <span style="background-color: black;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Flaming Lips</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Soft Pack</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Black Keys</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Nortec Collective</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Richard Thompson</b>, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Spoon</b></span> and many more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Sonic Youth</span></b> played a loud late night set at a small club, just to round out the weekend with a bold exclamation point.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fall concert line-up in <city w:st="on">Vancouver</city> was truly great (including a <strong><span style="background-color: black;">Black Angels/Black Mountain</span></strong> double bill), but the two shows I’ll finish with happened south of the border in <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Seattle</city></place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first was <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">Gary Numan</span></b> (yes, THAT Gary Numan) playing the entire Pleasure Principle at a small club called Neumo’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, most people only associate Gary Numan with “Cars” his electronic hit from 1980, but seeing him live shows that many of today’s artists, from Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson to Moby, owe a lot to Mr. Numan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man has been prolific over his 30 year career, and many artists claim to have been influenced by his heavy, synth driven style.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seattle</place></city> show was rather appropriately on Halloween night, so an audience that would have already been a bit freaky was downright out there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The concert was full of energy, extremely loud, and had probably the brightest light show I’ve ever seen in a club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And because of that, I must give full kudos to Renee, who only four days earlier had undergone major invasive eye surgery, yet made the trip to see <place w:st="on"><city w:st="on">Gary</city></place> all the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is a huge fan and knew this was an opportunity not to be missed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her Halloween costume was perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She dressed as a patient who had recently undergone major invasive eye surgery, complete with hospital blues and eye patch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably not the most appropriate interpretation of medically ordered convalescence, but well worth it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right Renee?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And lastly, a New Years Eve show to remember – <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: black;">X</span></b> at The Moore Theatre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am normally Scrooge on NYE, preferring the comfort of an intimate dinner party over drinking bad champagne with hordes of people who otherwise never go out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it took the coaxing of my buddy Dave to remind me that this was in fact X, with the original line-up, doing their 1980 album “Los Angeles” from start to finish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, despite the fact that I was leaving the country for six months in 4 days and hadn’t packed or cleaned, and was hosting a party in 2 days, I did what any sane person in my position would do; I hopped in Dave’s car and went to <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Seattle</place></city>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And so the year ended, with me in bliss singing along with John Doe and Exene Cervenka to every word of each song they played.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They may be getting older, but those guys will rock into their hundreds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Mind you, Exene was diagnosed this year with MS, so the days of X shows may be numbered.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They played as hard and fast as they ever have, blistering through “<city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Los Angeles</place></city>” in about a half hour, followed by an extended set of their greatest hits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A suitable end to an amazing year of live music…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For true X fans only, attached are two videos I took at the show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apologies for the poor sound and video quality, but you get a sense of just how stoked the crowd was, as was the band for that matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you listen carefully, you just may hear yours truly, as well, in utter ecstasy.<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxeJGFulTm8EGIZR4FjmH5d0GrBUQXTeUihh-IbQUxulF7XcwryGG2GC1GqIXkcT7Uj2WqlpDIKcg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz_2I4zZ5QmAlrfO83-1JROrXBEzuumAgT-fNd1U-F3m9tNwtGX6Vw46ceEmE9cy8Q2qSAg9Cj24KI' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-64559558199630523422011-01-09T22:17:00.000-08:002011-03-02T16:20:41.520-08:00Modern Gadgetry<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Traveling sure has changed since the last time I hit the road for an extended period.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mind you, back then I was a horny teenager jumping from youth hostel to pub across <place w:st="on">Europe</place> in search of, well, let’s just say Cathedrals weren’t at the top of my list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, I’d prefer to experience a better rounded sort of trip, and take the time to remember more of what I see and do along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also want to share my travels with friends and family, so modern travel gadgets for communication are a must.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still, my selection of travel gadgets as I hitch hiked around back in 1983 was pretty cutting edge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a cassette tape Walkman with 5 tapes to choose from (and I can assure you I will never listen to any of those albums ever again), a Canon Sureshot automatic camera with 25 (that’s right, 25!) rolls of slide film, and a six month supply of AA batteries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was as connected as it gets, which wasn’t much at all, really.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For an example of just how rudimentary communications were back in those “dark ages”, consider what it took for a traveller to call home from <place w:st="on">Europe</place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would start with a trip to the central post office, where the only international phones outside of the major hotels could be found.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(You had better have been in a larger center as many of the small towns only provided public access to local phones.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once inside, the would-be caller was undoubtedly confronted by a long, painfully slow moving line. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting to the front wasn’t guaranteed, but it also wasn’t the end of the ordeal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The receptionist had to take down the number and transfer it to an operator who would place the call, but only when one of a limited number of phone booths came available.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was often an all day affair! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my case, being connected when I called home didn’t necessarily assure that I would have the opportunity to speak to my parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I always called collect, and apparently calls were expensive.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How the world of communications has transformed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t consider myself an overly tech savvy individual, but check out the list of gadgets accompanying me on the 2011 version of Dave’s adventures (along with why I need each item):</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 39pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 39.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>SLR digital camera with 32 GB memory card </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 75pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; tab-stops: list 75.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">o<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>because I can’t carry 5,000 rolls of film and “point and shoot” cameras are for amateurs)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 39pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 39.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>“point and shoot” camera </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 75pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; tab-stops: list 75.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">o<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>because I’m an amateur</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 39pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 39.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>Flip HD video camera </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 75pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; tab-stops: list 75.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">o<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>because standard video doesn’t cut it any more</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 39pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 39.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>16 GB iPod Nano </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 75pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; tab-stops: list 75.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">o<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>because I need 7000 songs to choose from</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 39pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 39.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>capsule loudspeaker </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 75pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; tab-stops: list 75.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">o<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>because the people in the next room need to hear “good” music</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 39pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 39.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>quad band Blackberry mobile phone</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 75pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; tab-stops: list 75.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">o<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>because I haven’t been to <place w:st="on"><country-region w:st="on">Thailand</country-region></place> yet to buy an iPhone</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 39pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 39.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>500 GB portable hard drive </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 75pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; tab-stops: list 75.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">o<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>because I need the capacity to store an additional 50,000 songs, 2000 movies, and 100,000 photos</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 39pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 39.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>Netbook computer </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 75pt; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; tab-stops: list 75.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">o<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span>to pull it all together and take up all of my time</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For a more detailed description check out this video (shot in HD, or course):</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwrWnwyQzNTuWMBV9qTIUb-gEqEBCcXbYSS04r-h0nFppTonot6RYIOzIYf7EJvtV2JdkMxmrSIYtc' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Remarkably, all that gear takes up less space than my humble load of gadgets from back in 1983.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I’ve noticed it does weigh a tad more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or is it perhaps that I’m a tad older? </span><br />
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</div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10186650467852707200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-43993404855524558482010-11-18T12:27:00.000-08:002010-11-23T16:58:37.567-08:00On Buying a Netbook<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rare are the events in life that change everything.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's a good thing, too, because such radical change can be a pretty traumatic experience. Trust me. I know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These are the life experiences that result in major upheaval in people's lives; large scale epiphanies that lead individuals to rethink fundamental life choices. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have recently had just such an experience. My life will never be the same. I bought a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Netbook</span>, and everything has indeed changed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For those of you not in the know (like me until about a week ago), a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Netbook</span> is a mini laptop computer. It has all the basic functionality of a standard computer but in a much more convenient size. Some computer weenies turn up their noses at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Netbooks</span> claiming that they are insufficient for certain activities like online gaming. However, since I'm not a 15 year old Asian male I suspect I'll be just fine with a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Netbook</span>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After all, my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Netbook</span> has a reasonably fast processor, a large hard drive and a bunch of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">accessories</span> like a web cam so it's perfect for important things like blogging, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Facebook</span>, emailing, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Skype</span>, managing photos, etc. It has also been "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">ruggedized</span>", which is supposed to mean that it can withstand a little more rough-housing than your average electronic gizmo. It's a perfect travel companion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As a result, I am well prepared to turn my back on over 20 years of a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">professional</span> career and hit the road. I've had a job my entire adult life, but now I've chosen a different direction. Ah the freedom! No more "bored" meetings. No more last minute panic sessions trying to realize additional revenue before month end. No more regular paycheck. (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Hmmm</span>. Perhaps I should have thought that one out a little better...)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Regardless, starting this <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">January</span> me and my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Netbook</span> are going travelling. We'll be on the road for over six months - seeing old friends, making new ones and visiting an incredible variety of destinations. It'll all be happening here at Dave's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Digglings</span>, too. So please feel free to follow along, or better yet, participate! After all, these sorts of events don't come 'round very often.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">OK</span>, truth be known, certain other events have occurred in my life that may have also had some more than minor influence on this new direction. Like, for example, immediate termination of employment from a large multi-national corporation. But hey, it's my blog, and if i say it's all about buying a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Netbook,</span> then it's all about buying a Netbook!)</span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-8710823903371569872010-01-13T17:13:00.000-08:002010-01-17T15:48:49.144-08:00Disposable Music: Dave's Top Ten Tunes for 2009Is it just me, or is production a thing of the past? Now, I’m not suggesting that we return to the self indulgent over-produced world of Alan Parsons or anything like that. Good God no! But, did you happen to listen to the 2009 release “Horehound” by Jack White’s latest project The Dead Weather? The sound is appalling! I realize Jack is a fan of sparse production, but the cymbals sound like someone hitting rice paper with a spoon and the recording levels are pushed so high that what should be an ear splitting wall of aural pleasure ends up sounding like the shitty speakers in your Dad’s old K-car. And Jack’s not alone. Bad production seems to be the trend in popular music. What gives?<br /><br />Well, I have a theory, and it goes something like this: you get what you pay for. Those “masterpieces” from the 70’s cost millions of dollars to produce. Even with today’s advanced recording techniques, some basic sound engineering goes a long way to producing a good finished product. Yet it all costs money, and in today’s digital world music is basically free. Anyone with a kindergarten level understanding of economics knows that you can’t earn a living by investing lots of money in something that you give away. The music <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">industry</span> is no exception.<br /><br />So I think Jack has it right - throw an album together as fast as you can, screw the production and tour like hell. At least people still pay to see bands play live. And with that, here in no particular order are my top ten tunes for 2009:<br />(Sorry Jack, I just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">couldn't</span> bring myself to include The Dead Weather. Great live show, though!)<br /><br /><u>British Port Authority – He's Frank</u><br />How is this not the single of the year? Combine Fatboy Slim’s beats and sense of humor with vocals by Iggy Pop and you’ve got an instant summertime pop classic. Roll down the windows and let the sun shine in!<br /><br /><u>The XX – Crystalised</u><br />The first single from this London quartet (now a three piece) is a perfect example of their dual vocals and indie pop style. Worth the hype.<br /><br /><u>Atlas Sound – Quick Canal</u><br />When I first heard Quick Canal I had no idea Atlas Sound was the solo project of Deerhunter’s (whose Microcastle was on my 2008 Top Album list) lead singer Bradford Cox. Doesn’t matter. Quick Canal is a succulent stunner, with just enough background noise to keep me interested.<br /><br /><u>Spoon – Got Nuffin</u><br />Another great track from Austin’s veteran hipsters.<br /><br /><u>Modest Mouse – Satellite Skin</u><br />Ok, gotta admit, I’ve got a soft spot for these guys. Still, No One’s First… is an EP with as much variety as any of their albums. It’s like they didn’t feel the pressure to create a cohesive album, so just compiled some tracks on a long EP. Works for me.<br /><br /><u>Animal Collective – Summertime Clothes</u><br />Man these guys are weird! Ain’t it great?<br /><br /><u>School of 7 Bells – Wired For Light</u><br />Twins! What more can I say?<br /><br /><u>Fever Ray – When I Grow Up</u><br />Has anyone ever heard of a Swedish band called “The Knife”? Me neither, but all you ever hear about Fever Ray is that it’s a side project of The Knife’s lead singer. Regardless, after listening to the album Fever Ray, I’m afraid for her two children. Very afraid. This is dark stuff.<br /><br /><u>Cymbals Eat Guitars – And The Hazy Sea</u><br />They do a pretty good job of filling a very large hole that was created when Pavement ceased to exist. “And The Hazy Sea” opens their debut as well as Stephen Malkmus could have ever hoped.<br /><br /><u>Kasabian – Underdog</u><br />Got their groove back on this one, sorta. Sounds like the boys are still popping pills, which is a good thing for us.<br /><br /><u>A Place To Bury Strangers - Lost Feeling</u><br />Nothing new here, but thank god someone out there still makes music with loud fuzzy guitars and distorted vocals. The Jesus and Mary Chain would be proud.<br /><br /><u>Obits – Milk Cow Blues</u><br />Nothing new here either, but thank god someone out there still likes to rock. April Wine would be proud.<br /><br />Now, for those of you who were counting, that is actually twelve tunes, not ten. Let's call it "Dave's Top Ten Tunes Plus Two for 2009". And, as a reward for those of you who have been patient enough to read all the way to the bottom, here's a link to where you can download each of these fine tracks for your listening pleasure: <a href="http://www3.telus.net/public/diggling/">http://www3.telus.net/public/diggling/</a> . (Download the zip file DigglingMash2009, unzip, and enjoy!)Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-22979451352262987682009-02-03T20:48:00.000-08:002009-02-03T21:21:28.850-08:00Singles Going SteadyHey Everybody,<br />Interested in hearing some of the best songs from 2008? Well, download the following file and treat yourself to 18 of the finest tracks from the past year:<br /><a href="http://www3.telus.net/Digglings/DigglingMash2008.zip">http://www3.telus.net/Digglings/DigglingMash2008.zip</a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">editor's note: I had written a clever introduction for this post which included a list of the tracks, but in my rush to bring it to you, I managed to lose it in cyberspace. So instead, it's short and sweet for today's post. Enjoy!</span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-43971474619433061332008-12-31T14:02:00.000-08:002008-12-31T14:11:59.597-08:00A Year of Great Songs: Dave’s “not-exactly” Top Ten List for 2008The past year in music saw releases from a wide variety of artists in all genres. From newcomers like MGMT and Vampire Weekend to veterans such as Alejandro Escovedo and Beck, there were plenty of new songs bouncing about between my ears. 2008 was indeed a year of great songs.<br />However, 2008 presents me with one slight problem. My annual Top Ten list is for albums, not just songs. I like to recognize artists for compiling an entire record (is that word still relevant?) of songs that works as a whole from start to finish. Listening to an album is all about appreciating the artistry of a musician or group of musicians, experiencing the ebb and flow of emotions that they have captured for your senses and enjoyment. Repeated listens become like a visit with an old friend.<br />For me, this was a rare occurrence in 2008. I found myself all too regularly hitting the “skip” button to avoid certain songs, or even more commonly I’d listen to my favorite two or three tracks and skip the rest of the album. Great songs, but a great album? Not so much…<br />This year’s list has been adjusted accordingly. I’ve divided it between “great albums” and albums with “great songs”. And as if that wasn’t enough, I’ve thrown in an extra category “just because”. Enjoy!<br /><br /><strong>Great Albums – the Top 2:<br /></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiw93ns_yt83wtzgynUJ5zOyObTW9ModyllXNoe2qCKkYj4i574PdnmAsY3axq7YELKvTg0p0JdIBsEic2RXVt36NxRT2TuvVKNFLUFeSCNPupb2jSf4kVQOoxHHN7hrqJ-4-T/s1600-h/51w2TJUavYL__SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286080308008764130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiw93ns_yt83wtzgynUJ5zOyObTW9ModyllXNoe2qCKkYj4i574PdnmAsY3axq7YELKvTg0p0JdIBsEic2RXVt36NxRT2TuvVKNFLUFeSCNPupb2jSf4kVQOoxHHN7hrqJ-4-T/s320/51w2TJUavYL__SL500_AA240_.jpg" border="0" /></a>The Seldom Seen Kid by Elbow</span><br />The boys from Manchester have most certainly hit their stride. Guy Garvey’s smoky vocals are once again at the forefront of the band’s self described “prog without the solos” style. Hands down my album of the year. The critics apparently agree as The Seldom Seen Kid is this year’s recipient of the Mercury Prize – the annual award for the best in British music.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Golden Hour by Firewater</span><br />Returning from an extended trek through Thailand, India, Pakistan, Turkey and Indonesia (which he chronicled on his blog Postcards from the Other Side of the World), lead singer and mastermind behind Firewater Tod <a href="http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=1:A."></a>A has used recorded music from his travels as the backbone of the very world wary “Golden Hour”. The combination of a Joe Strummer-like lyrical style with such influences as Klezmer and Indian wedding music results in perhaps the most satisfying “socially conscious” record since the early Clash.<br /><br /><strong>Great Albums – the rest:</strong><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Microcastle by Deerhunter</span><br />Deerhunter have abandoned their uneven experimental noise from the early 2000’s for a fuller, more accessible sound on Microcastle. The release has been criticized by their hardcore fans for being too pop oriented. I say lighten up hipster snobs and enjoy this blissfully melodic breakout release!<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Jean Lee & the Yellow Dog by Ed Kuepper & the Kowalski Collective<br /></span>The grandfather of Australian rock has been silent for a few years. But finally, there's this ambitious loose concept album, based on the only hanging of a woman in Australian history, in 1951 of prostitute/alleged murdered Jean Lee. Long, varied, constantly and effectively surprising and involving, it's just plain fabulous.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Rook by Shearwater</span><br />Wow! How much emotionally charged songwriting can you fit into a 38 minute record? The answer lies in Shearwater’s expansive “Rook”.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Real Animal by Alejandro Escovedo</span><br />Ok, perhaps not a perfect album, but Real Animal stands as testament to one of music’s most underrated performers. From his early days with punk pioneers Rank and File (when he lived alongside Sid and Nancy in NYC) through to a recent battle with Hep-C, Alejandro has written an extensive catalogue of music straddling a wide variety of genres. This album pays homage to his past, and looks forward to a brighter future as the world seems to have finally caught on.<br /><br /><strong>Great Albums – honorable mentions:</strong><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mission Control by The Whigs<br /></span>Guitar based indie-rock, for those who like it served straight up.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Attack and Release by The Black Keys</span><br />Nothing new here from the Keys, just another satisfying blues romp. What’s wrong with that?<br /><br /><strong>Albums with Great Songs:</strong><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Consolers of the Lonely by The Raconteurs<br /></span>To be honest, this should be in the great album category because it really is pretty strong throughout. Jack White has taken over the band, and Consolers is full of his characteristic riffs and screeches. It also casts a nod to some of Jack’s influences (most notably Led Zep) and boasts some musical diversions not seen on the band’s first effort. However, there are a couple of songs that I can only describe as absolute stinkers, and am never able to get through. Thus, the skip button comes into play every time. Sorry Jack.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The Very Sexuals</span><br />Delicious Bowie-like harmonies abound on this rookie release from Holland’s Very Sexuals. It’s too bad they only keep it up for the first three songs. Still, the album can be downloaded for free from their MySpace page, and for those three songs it’s well worth the effort.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Oracular Spectacular by MGMT</span><br />In 2008 these new darlings of the indie circuit have gone from playing half empty bars to sold-out arenas, all on the strength of Oracular Spectacular. It’s well worth the hype, containing perhaps the single of the year (a toss-up between “Time To Pretend” and “Kids” – you decide which is better).<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Vampire Weekend</span><br />They’ve spent the year battling it out with MGMT for the most hyped band of 2008. I still love “(Who Gives a Fuck About an) Oxford Comma” (how brilliant is that?), but found the rest of the album lost my interest after only a couple of listens.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Feel Good Ghosts by Cloud Cult<br /></span>In a year without a release from the Flaming Lips, at least we have Cut Copy. (What’s that? There was a Flaming Lips release? Who knew?) Like The Lips, Cut Copy is all over the map, with sometimes theatrical extravaganzas, other times simple ditties. Hear both on “When Water Comes to Life” from Feel Good Ghosts. I’m listening to it now, and have stopped typing so I can lead the orchestra.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Exotic Creatures of the Deep by Sparks</span><br />Included here solely on account of the Queen-like harmonies and laugh-out-loud funny lyrics of “Lighten up Morrisey” and “Photoshop (Me Out of Your Life)”.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Modern Guilt by Beck<br /></span>Not up to his usual standards, yet Modern Guilt still produced two of the best songs from 2008 – “Gamma Ray” and “Profanity Prayers”.<br /><br /><strong>Album Title of the Year:</strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">When Life Gives You Lemons You Paint That Shit Gold by Atmosphere<br /></span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-85547026086529130772008-08-20T18:17:00.000-07:002008-08-20T18:30:11.397-07:00Civilized Wilderness – Sea Kayaking in Sechelt Inlet<span style="font-family:arial;">To some, embarking on a three day kayak trip into unpopulated areas of British Columbia’s west coast would be considered a rugged backcountry experience. To others, it’s simply another excuse to eat and drink exorbitantly, while providing just enough physical exertion to be categorized as an outdoor activity. I’m most certainly in the second group, as demonstrated by our kayak excursion this past weekend.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236776094090747090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHBP8hG3jtgVP5jS0E1R9_B2cMyhnAaYf-bMG6F8pEVeeccKfmVTN1e8NRVEHfszJJBkACp1ZiWJIOs0CEJXYw9zNjPywQRxhVo1pq88xqTG9WDJQFsPXNYWbiLZ0npgoF0fx/s400/imgp3081_edited.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Now don’t get me wrong, the BC coastline is home to many wild animals and the chances of encountering a bear are pretty good. The closest shower and electrical outlet are many miles away, and (thankfully) there is no mobile phone coverage. You don’t have to go far to be pretty remote. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nx8UC5Zl_lMq2XjL7qjVToJoUhwJ9H5gr7hlZyjYW66LpMbtt9gslon9C75XsvdoDXK6CM74CPo4oniC4uCBrtt749xat2KPv4-Io_Z8hPULzkwvyhmLVYrS2mRfG0h1Wxte/s1600-h/imgp3066_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236776728757686834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nx8UC5Zl_lMq2XjL7qjVToJoUhwJ9H5gr7hlZyjYW66LpMbtt9gslon9C75XsvdoDXK6CM74CPo4oniC4uCBrtt749xat2KPv4-Io_Z8hPULzkwvyhmLVYrS2mRfG0h1Wxte/s200/imgp3066_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUKRQkiM2tFYmresNRCfGtL8ca1O8IOOLFB4FKjqVyp3mUwFiQ7oi7GaICuqsh76VWIAQESPeoi_tyI7t5n2N1JPyf6M64Bzav5LCnmc8nnUD9PGHajPS3HXkjNLJ0kWCGTQmC/s1600-h/imgp3073_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236776519317476658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUKRQkiM2tFYmresNRCfGtL8ca1O8IOOLFB4FKjqVyp3mUwFiQ7oi7GaICuqsh76VWIAQESPeoi_tyI7t5n2N1JPyf6M64Bzav5LCnmc8nnUD9PGHajPS3HXkjNLJ0kWCGTQmC/s200/imgp3073_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />However, traveling by kayak provides one distinct advantage over more traditional back country options such as hiking, and that advantage is storage. So, despite the remoteness and somewhat rudimentary means of getting there, the kayaker can bring along a reasonable array of creature comforts. For me, those comforts revolve around food.<br /><br />Before you write me off as a complete sloth or nut bar, tell me how this sounds? After a day of paddling in clear water surrounded by mountains and forests, you return to camp for a cocktail and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHvBJ6Tcuk-WyO9YE4wCVW1I-YG8NzZ4E54PuwWrdC1xyN_4mF91t1RPFGcgQY2nYtnnzy4vHibCNf0qPa6c1s_nx6P5m17yhJwgmdpD-Jpr4TFhVTIdwSPM9PNgwtW_4x_sXm/s1600-h/imgp3070.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236777065648442482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHvBJ6Tcuk-WyO9YE4wCVW1I-YG8NzZ4E54PuwWrdC1xyN_4mF91t1RPFGcgQY2nYtnnzy4vHibCNf0qPa6c1s_nx6P5m17yhJwgmdpD-Jpr4TFhVTIdwSPM9PNgwtW_4x_sXm/s200/imgp3070.jpg" border="0" /></a>appetizer. Then, as the sun sets you recline against a log on the beach and enjoy a glass of wine while brilliant colors dance across the sky. As darkness approaches, it’s time to light a fire and prepare a gourmet feast. You eventually retire to your tent with a belly full of fine wine, and slip into a deep sleep to the soothing sound of waves lapping against the shore.<br /><br />Not so crazy after all, huh? I call it “Civilized Wilderness”, and even though I’m bound to hear loud protests from the extreme sports crowd, I’m convinced there is no better way to experience nature.<br /><br />On our weekend we paddled with dolphins, saw countless jellyfish and multi-colored starfish, and stared in awe at some stunning scenery. We also swam in the surprisingly warm ocean at a number of uninhabited beaches. Meanwhile, we enjoyed cool late afternoon Gin and Tonics, lightly seared sushi grade ahi tuna, melt in your mouth tenderloin, a variety of spicy Indian curries, assorted grilled vegetables and even brownies with steamed milk and Bailey’s Irish Cream. Not to be overlooked were beautiful bottles of wine to accompany every course. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aDwaErl0sKp6BGZnUvdvr-gFRzAX4wvhGINsqI5Mxm6Gb_M0YE9xvlRRZ_Oq6Q50Oo8oosCv6UjXNNqvrFXB9kF2m78dLgppFUmbCLr1y5sgGDpk_Ta6-ZSaR9ZR4adjUpIv/s1600-h/imgp3067.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236775050359198930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aDwaErl0sKp6BGZnUvdvr-gFRzAX4wvhGINsqI5Mxm6Gb_M0YE9xvlRRZ_Oq6Q50Oo8oosCv6UjXNNqvrFXB9kF2m78dLgppFUmbCLr1y5sgGDpk_Ta6-ZSaR9ZR4adjUpIv/s200/imgp3067.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHzXDv2SJ2iAuzDn77bcqMa6WLoF8acDr4htEnqoG-xYyDPl4sGbZ0HdOrDGfR34utzIuuYm0RmGhute9AcO5YgJNUHoorS6dd8z41qD_Lo3ndb-wL3-XmDQpJAGN6HRfj8Fzj/s1600-h/imgp3056.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236774877842567490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHzXDv2SJ2iAuzDn77bcqMa6WLoF8acDr4htEnqoG-xYyDPl4sGbZ0HdOrDGfR34utzIuuYm0RmGhute9AcO5YgJNUHoorS6dd8z41qD_Lo3ndb-wL3-XmDQpJAGN6HRfj8Fzj/s200/imgp3056.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Good friends, great food and stunning scenery! Indeed, what more could one want?</span> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236775539384714706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNt8LRrzU_rxbD-DlibUMdefUGkTN0G9H9mAtxQtrohgkBq0t1u7Br2bKc40J9us3aAFb8q5_wQAWbiH4uYsBxdJiGk9v_pVhl_0EJSs3dC8SscqLeqOATsURuT35yMWxqKGz/s320/imgp3105.jpg" border="0" />Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-51387237568010775652008-04-30T20:03:00.000-07:002008-04-30T21:59:23.127-07:00Iqaluit Bound: A Photographic Venture Into Canada's Arctic<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9zs_7bA8tckCK3LxqkqdWTxNLjnBqvM4ee1ivf0MW-2lzjj3NrShFqE1EIP9kZiYCbqskqn0OXEcCBXTQq_V640cl49RUjqk0PuFE5FpScYoCQxbBnmz1-kOVdrrQiGfL_EIM/s1600-h/eat+seal.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195240332767997346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9zs_7bA8tckCK3LxqkqdWTxNLjnBqvM4ee1ivf0MW-2lzjj3NrShFqE1EIP9kZiYCbqskqn0OXEcCBXTQq_V640cl49RUjqk0PuFE5FpScYoCQxbBnmz1-kOVdrrQiGfL_EIM/s400/eat+seal.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> The bumper sticker said it all. I certainly wasn't in painfully PC Vancouver anymore. I had embarked on a journey into a world so different from my own it's hard to believe it's still in the same country. Mind you, this is Canada after all, and you can travel a long, long way without crossing an international border. It took me longer to fly to Iqaluit way up in Canada's northeast than it would have taken for me to fly to Bali. That's far.</span><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">What follows are a few snapshots from my trip accompanied by some impressions from this ice-covered wonderland. </span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /></div></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><p></span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195246551880641970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ8md1CMC8UnycglEmAMqjnZFuAKm1huaweSP3kfoYj4yKWEAye4PzxCsSt1Og9M-1iokBEDJQ38AE1oQgUoEWuJLgb4TFNXkLtolzwvRQdmTaz3o4uFP5ol2mxGJtLdmX49xX/s320/imgp2668_edited.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">The first thing that hits you as you step off the airplane is the cold. My flight was greeted by temperatures dipping below -20 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Celsius</span>, and winds gusting over 50 km/hr. The conditions were such that the plane was forced to stop on the tarmac about a two minute walk from the terminal. Seasoned northern travellers are prepared for such <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">occurrences</span> by keeping their winter clothes on board as carry-on. I walked to the terminal in my light sweater and t-shirt, shivering and cursing the entire way. By the time I got inside, my right eye had frozen completely shut. My guess is that the locals were mocking me by loudly discussing how wonderful it was that spring had finally arrived. I kept my mouth shut and attempted to defrost my face.</span><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195250567675063746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vV-se3w61CUtALuVAmO7L6F6ZwwIEPF5IA_yK5pPo9rVYs_BQozaS4wVbJ4NgYse8kSg8g-HDfwzC5neNBdyXcYBLmdSlbGu75JbNUfAzbJatgTQfNBG1hqPtysBqi8jMcCC/s400/imgp2713_edited.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">The sun does shine in the Arctic (quite often, in fact), and when it does the stark beauty of the place is stunning. Shown here is Iqaluit from the neighbouring village of Apex, looking across Frobisher Bay. Mind you, without the clouds the temperature drops. It was -34 one deceptively sunny morning.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXEtXHvnJWcxdSCHFCuC9m42IARKNjEWM6W266ltSbYlW_fPcm09RJHgrxhQagcoAlNhz6ntrWzVDYC9iezP8DZUINxizXTGvpmySEUp500psvjPtTs1fKhxJhVSJrYpfBNuFL/s1600-h/imgp2720_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195253733065960946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXEtXHvnJWcxdSCHFCuC9m42IARKNjEWM6W266ltSbYlW_fPcm09RJHgrxhQagcoAlNhz6ntrWzVDYC9iezP8DZUINxizXTGvpmySEUp500psvjPtTs1fKhxJhVSJrYpfBNuFL/s200/imgp2720_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicJYnMrxl9PXlSlwzllN24iynk_EG2tmcVxNEEvtmokAsht3DgSuUodFpr-YbMfHN5c4jEQ8xiAStA0B7Nrm27npEjPTbuKh-6otEAvS8ufNsTpA55oqy8mpio54ZkCOngzWo6/s1600-h/imgp2721_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195253522612563410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicJYnMrxl9PXlSlwzllN24iynk_EG2tmcVxNEEvtmokAsht3DgSuUodFpr-YbMfHN5c4jEQ8xiAStA0B7Nrm27npEjPTbuKh-6otEAvS8ufNsTpA55oqy8mpio54ZkCOngzWo6/s200/imgp2721_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The ocean freezes in the northern winters, and the combination of tides and wind results in an incredible <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">mish</span>-mash of broken ice, with striking, twisted shards forming beautiful modern sculptures.</span><br /></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195255227714579970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHyVcbR9h83O0aRgEWncg7MjUZXSBtJcl4WHPHwRCxBzNEPUaMpbZc-fx2iGERt1wtYjkiDymBZygz0DN6RT3SVb55UG1ipnC81hFFdgdQGNMpq_OZqhYmFhlxClzY6LDhH4X/s320/imgp2683.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">Nature isn't the only artist in the north. The Inuit people are famous for fine soapstone sculptures. This carving of a traditional hunter was perched atop a traditional weaved basket, and fetched a whopping $3,000 at an auction I attended.</span><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195256249916796434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUJFTUaqU56QViV7fJx3VI-sD9iyETW3nDjPquLb4e5JYKpngFCKRfKtc-e0fvm44rw8VZ6Odm-h63Q2VWO3coW0C6b-Ce_3D6316rNke-5XN2_9vmAKTNNzsUOnQLTllccXKc/s320/imgp2686.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">Other indigenous art includes fashion, utilizing local furs such as seal, caribou and polar bear. These would probably not be practical in rainy Vancouver, as persons wearing such fashion would immediately be shot by someone who lives between Commercial and Victoria Drives.</span><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195257237759274530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcM6oSe1nGkgqhA57sUyrZjeQO_tkq074Ikfj5MSiVq2YA0dtLHdpjetSjNgSYsa483YWjoAneDpbgHksd83VksZi010tLmM_XcvSsTvNc3jpmtfIDFPDa_1K2jkpQG9odzXrJ/s320/imgp2688.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">Still, Lord knows how I love to shop, so I picked up two of these outfits...</span></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU9BFN5D1xYOBYE-vtd8YGf56eah8mxiM_051fXFknBFjDsHZQrHj79X2eGNhYA_hNV3w4HbJmssx2XYdCBlDZ-iGfpsV7736u48DOqwQGxg89M4z90FKkIVGaDjZPvBQXryc4/s1600-h/imgp2706_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195257731680513586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU9BFN5D1xYOBYE-vtd8YGf56eah8mxiM_051fXFknBFjDsHZQrHj79X2eGNhYA_hNV3w4HbJmssx2XYdCBlDZ-iGfpsV7736u48DOqwQGxg89M4z90FKkIVGaDjZPvBQXryc4/s200/imgp2706_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidR0g3VmHC9Gow3go69aiON-vJvdpXYA4pefObpCUOPYb-KQfdYzr3GdaL7iubYORtRLjinotY9GomiT7tUDJ0H1AWv-D2ShBKiarKulJiXXmI1J6INosmaYITPoixyFqvp3p/s1600-h/imgp2698_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195257869119467074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidR0g3VmHC9Gow3go69aiON-vJvdpXYA4pefObpCUOPYb-KQfdYzr3GdaL7iubYORtRLjinotY9GomiT7tUDJ0H1AWv-D2ShBKiarKulJiXXmI1J6INosmaYITPoixyFqvp3p/s200/imgp2698_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">The north also presents some startling <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">contrasts</span>, and with that some difficult social issues. On the left is the first Hudson's Bay trading post in the region, established on Frobisher Bay in 1620. It's quite remarkable that western explorers came to these harsh environs that long ago. But what's even more awe inspiring is that the Inuit people had called this rather uninhabitable land home for many previous generations.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">The resulting meeting of cultures has not been a smooth one. Today, Iqaluit is the land of snowmobile cadavers, like the one shown on the right. The town boasts two snowmobile dealerships, and no snowmobile service centers. The locals have no need to service them. The government buys the Inuit new ones every two years so the machines are basically driven until they stop, then <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">abandoned</span>.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Amazing what a government will do to try and make up for the sins of the past.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195262473324408402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaLlSrcCM3Gb2UEWj7azF4_OZ2H_9MG_XyKoZYyVgNXuHgvBFHj92tBFTlXG-761dHF_P4h57qQZsbzWZZjfLWBRjXNunDr-_sKf85okvflZVUqRnggJEHePXmi1oMpbbo9Gn/s320/imgp2709_edited.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">And so Iqaluit evokes a wide variety of emotions along with its barren <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">landscape</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">occasional</span> discarded tire...</span><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195263220648717922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Rozt9VfU9lXO4PScYgCgtdcFRvhJu893U58RBJbhO2wM4ruQM0TvUVhScLK-ItJPD2YvvRtoZgwt2ntQBpsnVqc9z5RdmxibFJOjULtnkGQRAvtVLPwAR834GBWrotvumJYD/s400/imgp2693_edited.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">...or boat left to the mercy of the ice.</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195263933613289074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEaXKutRFeYiY1WuMLLA4rWbBPdTVXL_NoCt7BLXrRd31-ooG45gwId_dxiDYurwFiKJrYvi0D6pH55e7trsk-OnRsMz3ixTD_xt03TfaH1oRebIFXl2xJsazgNiO_bD7d5Giz/s320/imgp2714_edited.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">conditions</span> are pretty harsh for any living creature, including the dogs and crows...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195265024534982306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvg99xeuIifvyhlHr51ipyUkExUMamsy-hh0JeRFCGq_haBFo7KCJfqhCgtKhOOKljT8mMmN5X9UJ5ftj0Jo1nU0o-AiDel75baXTk8rsuZ3NgR_zUi2KT8LuGPiggwHPbjIR_/s320/imgp2726_edited.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">...although I certainly wouldn't want to be a local polar bear!</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvb5_9b8jd6wCNe97KUwhXueqhovoU_d4bwzMqT3-oxy11lqwVvGxAGhTHSLowkq_mEJqDPhZshpNRdUGMYiQxJx0FK_cTOP-CUNm8fNA_bODM0sVTiNW0UWC1oS2UZDL5XH1j/s1600-h/imgp2701_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195264496254004882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvb5_9b8jd6wCNe97KUwhXueqhovoU_d4bwzMqT3-oxy11lqwVvGxAGhTHSLowkq_mEJqDPhZshpNRdUGMYiQxJx0FK_cTOP-CUNm8fNA_bODM0sVTiNW0UWC1oS2UZDL5XH1j/s200/imgp2701_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzBRHIENhd-O9SQeWgA11foihTQi47-awzPpJBp-MoWZRW3akFaBEK49bRtABEos6H0HBqpMVe6S2gE2XGX-KvHm1aFWVMAyfZ8qAjZPVb1KmsPqbo4xcJfJHTNrn0KXxHgEdY/s1600-h/imgp2716_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195264367404985986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzBRHIENhd-O9SQeWgA11foihTQi47-awzPpJBp-MoWZRW3akFaBEK49bRtABEos6H0HBqpMVe6S2gE2XGX-KvHm1aFWVMAyfZ8qAjZPVb1KmsPqbo4xcJfJHTNrn0KXxHgEdY/s200/imgp2716_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;"></p></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Even so, there's still time to play some outdoor recreational sports, like hockey and basketball.<br /></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195265638715305650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbpCa-CHu0Q272vwdS3xlICqZpQcYBrQvFziACwspQbUvTJ95WIzFUgsefW1u5rhzl7l3JFGHWmwQtMob2AqwkWS0nVJVXs9xj5_i1oENK3sXOdUyE2RTuhWPaszwscaB4WMm/s400/imgp2699_edited.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">Where does it all lead? Hopefully not here!</span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-54457852451805542882008-02-20T17:27:00.000-08:002008-02-21T10:15:21.006-08:00Hell Hath No Fury Like a Kopite ScornedSports fans are an unruly lot. Poke your head into a sports bar during pretty well any sporting event and you’re likely to witness all sorts of rowdy behavior. From yelling at the plethora of TV screens and constant “high fiving” (a predominantly North American trait), to swilling and spilling beer, the sports bar crowd is a unique, primarily male microcosm of our society. And, it is just such a mob that I found myself firmly planted amongst for hockey viewing yesterday evening.<br /><br />It all started harmlessly enough. A couple of buddies and I met up after work at a downtown Vancouver sports bar to down a few pints and take in a Vancouver Canucks telecast. There were several hockey games on the various screens, and plenty of people on hand to cheer on all the different teams. In typical Canadian fashion, there was some polite competitive jawing going on between fans sporting an assortment of jerseys, but it was all in good fun.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivHPJPcFvco16f1m10HAfzy2h5UCkInZSQ5xV2x2VfK5KDbtXvSLx7iTEL0AKYUbiVkiSaQ150yyT40Y4Iz-ywc9SqFU8dVDN3l2W7HV6EYvy4kpINUzkdv0MZ1e2HNjIU-je5/s1600-h/Liverpool_FC_logo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169239881739302050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivHPJPcFvco16f1m10HAfzy2h5UCkInZSQ5xV2x2VfK5KDbtXvSLx7iTEL0AKYUbiVkiSaQ150yyT40Y4Iz-ywc9SqFU8dVDN3l2W7HV6EYvy4kpINUzkdv0MZ1e2HNjIU-je5/s400/Liverpool_FC_logo.jpg" border="0" /></a>However, as the evening progressed I couldn’t help but notice an increasing number of another sort of jersey. Unlike the pullover style hockey sweater, these jerseys had collars, and all of them were red. That’s when it dawned on me: red means The Reds, as in the Liverpool Football Club. It’s mid-February, and the second round of the UEFA Champions League is just getting underway. The bar was most certainly filling up for an international football match, which on a world scale far outweighs the significance of a hockey game.<br /><br />Still, I was puzzled because the matches are played at night in Europe, which means the live broadcast in Vancouver should be at mid day. One member of our table turned out to be a fellow from Liverpool (I suppose I should have known by his flipped-up collar and, well, accent…), and he explained that he had been in the same bar earlier that day to watch Liverpool take on arch rival AC Milan. He was now back in the bar to watch the rebroadcast of the same game. He also pointed out a few “blokes” who had watched it with him, but had remained in the bar since that time. They also planned to watch it all over again, provided that they could keep their heads up off the bar. Such is the dedication of the average football fan.<br /><br />As such, football fans, especially the English, are a whole breed apart from hockey fans. You’ve probably heard the term “English football hooligan”. It is more or less interchangeable with the term “English football fan”, and refers to an unbridled passion for a specific club (and the English national team) as well as a general state of drunken disorderliness. English fans are notorious for violence at matches both home and abroad, and as a result have actually been barred en masse from attending World Cup games involving their beloved English squad. Liverpool fans, who refer to themselves as “Kopites”, are some of the least reputable, as displayed in the 1985 European Cup final against Juventus F.C. where they essentially killed 39 Italian supporters.<br /><br />Which brings me back to the sports bar last night, and the growing presence of red clad Kopites. Our pal from Liverpool felt quite at home, especially since he already had 5 pints or so under his belt and posses the prerequisite accent. Meanwhile, my buddy Gary and I were starting to feel strangely outnumbered by Liverpool football “fans” in our hometown establishment. So when we looked up from yet another deep hockey oriented discussion to see our pal chatting with a rather large, crooked nosed skinhead in a red jersey, we wanted to do our best to fit in. Since he was sitting right next to the guy, Gary put on his best face, stuck out his hand for a shake and exclaimed “Hey buddy, nice win today!”<br /><br />Just like that, our lives were in grave danger. Well, not necessarily mine, but most certainly Gary’s. I had some lesser sort of guilt by association, but Gary had committed a mortal sin.<br /><br />Almost immediately, this massive Kopite dropped Gary’s hand and slowly backed away. His face grew redder and the veins in his skull began pulsating to the extent that I was sure they would soon explode. He glared unflinchingly at Gary as his mouth began to froth a little around the corners.<br /><br />“Why you f*ckin’…!” he began before his voice trailed off.<br />Finally, after much hyper-ventilating, he thrust his chin forward and shrieked, “<strong>I’m going to kill you!</strong>”<br />He then turned on his heels and charged off to a nearby table where he started gesticulating wildly to a group of red jerseys, occasionally turning back towards our table and pointing at Gary while nodding menacingly.<br /><br />Unbeknownst to us, the fellow had just been telling our pal from Liverpool that he had gone to great lengths to get through the entire day without learning who had won the match. He was just about to sit down and watch it with his mates who had all accomplished the same feat.<br /><br />But fate was not on his side. Gary was. And his perfectly orchestrated plans had been dashed right before his now glazed eyes.<br /><br />An idle death threat, you ask? Something not to be taken seriously, perhaps? Well, maybe you should pose that question to certain Italian families? I for one wasn’t sticking around to find out. A woman scorned has nothing on a Kopite burned, and I was headed for home before this one unleashed his fury.<br /><br />Oh, and if you’re curious, I did receive a text from Gary this morning, so I’m assuming he survived the ordeal. In the end, if I know Gary, he probably had them all charmed in no time, and has been invited to join in with them for the airing of the next match. Just like a Liverpool fan, Gary never seems to walk alone.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-59803805643194924012008-01-25T15:30:00.000-08:002008-01-25T15:34:42.036-08:00Confessions of a Sports Junkie<strong>Sport</strong> - a particular activity (as an athletic game) so engaged in<br /><strong>Junkie</strong> - a person who derives inordinate pleasure from or who is dependent on something<br /><br />Thus defined, a sports junkie would be an individual who is mad about <em>playing</em> sports. In terms of physical and mental health, this generally wouldn’t be considered such a bad thing.<br /><br />In our society, however, the term has morphed into a description of an individual who is mad about <em>watching</em> sports, primarily on TV. A sports junkie is therefore some sort of extreme sports fan, as in fanatic.<br /><br /><strong>Fanatic</strong> - marked by excessive enthusiasm and often intense uncritical devotion<br /><br />One could certainly draw into question both the physical and mental health of just such a specimen. (For those interested in carrying out any scientific study, I would recommend doing so on February 3, when essentially the entire male population of Sports Junkies will be glued to their televisions and couches, gawking in awe at the Mecca of all Sports Junkie events – The Super Bowl. The much rarer female Sports Junkie may also be present, although sitings of the female are scarce indeed.)<br /><br />I’ve never really thought of myself as a Sports Junkie, although a number of my close friends, especially my sister, would beg to differ. My thinking has been that I actually have other hobbies and activities that keep me occupied, so my entire life is not spent in front of the tube watching sports. In my mind, that makes me a casual sport watching enthusiast.<br /><br />That said I’ve been known to watch 3 NFL football games in a row on a Sunday. Regardless of the fact that this is done as part of an exclusive “Haute Cuisine NFL” club, where we consume high end food and drink and discuss politics and philosophy while cheering on the Seattle Seahawks, some would say this makes me an addict, and thus a Sports Junkie. My sister finds the behavior appalling and in need of an intervention. I find it charming, amusing and quite, well, normal.<br /><br />Nonetheless, an event occurred last night that I’m afraid leaves no doubt in the great Dave-as-Sports Junkie debate. For last night was the Men’s Semi-Final at the Australian Open. (That’s a tennis tournament for those of you not in the know, one of the four major annual tournaments). It promised to be a memorable match, with Roger Federer, the world’s number 1 player, taking on his most likely eventual successor at that lofty designation, Novak Djokovic.<br /><br />Federer has been number 1 for as long as anyone can remember, but Djokovic has been closing in on him; beating him in some minor tournaments, and challenging him at several majors. Last night’s match promised to be something special, and I was determined to watch it – live.<br /><br />There was just one small complication. The Australian Open is held in, where else, Australia (Melbourne, to be exact). I live in Vancouver, Canada, where the live feed started at 12:30 in the wee hours of the morning. If I were a sane person, a “non-fanatic” as it were, I would have set the VCR and watched the match at some reasonable hour over the upcoming weekend.<br /><br />But a true aficionado of sport is not satisfied with day-old product. No, a true fan needs to see the match as it happens, with no chance of finding out who won prior to watching the events unfold. It’s almost as if the knowledge that the combatants are actually engaged in competition as you watch means that you’re a part of it. Sure, you’re half way across the world as you jump and scream during set point, or gnaw your nails to the bone during a third set tie breaker, but that’s the excitement of watching sports on TV when it’s live. Doing the same to a taped version of the same event would just be silly. Right?<br /><br />So last night as I went to bed around 11, I set the alarm for 1 AM and promptly fell asleep. It was rather difficult to shake off the cobwebs when the alarm pulled me out of a deep sleep, but I managed to find the match on TV and propped myself up to watch history unfold.<br /><br />Unfortunately, it wasn’t the five set marathon match I expected, but rather was a three set dismantling of the world’s number 1 by his younger opponent. There was some great tennis, but in the end, it was no contest. Djokovic had prevailed in less than three hours and the clock had yet to strike 4 AM. This was in its own way good news, because it meant that I could squeeze in another three hours of shut eye before my alarm would go off a second time, signifying it was time to get up and head to work. My late night sports watching plan didn’t seem so crazy after all.<br /><br />There was just one small unforeseen problem. After the match I couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was wide awake. Consequently, instead of merrily snoring away for the few hours I had left to do so, I all but finished reading Billy Bathgate, channel surfed and essentially watched the clock slowly march on towards dawn...<br /><br />Thus, I am here before you to admit that, in certain cases and according to some people’s interpretation of the definition, I am indeed a Sports Junkie. I must be. The dark, puffy circles under my sunken eyes are a telltale sign, as is the incessant shaking of my hands and the odd head twitch I seem to have developed. My co-workers have been whispering about me all morning over at the water cooler. And, as with many other addictions, it has led to harder stuff. I’m currently on my third double espresso of the day. Sports Junkie, meet Coffee Junkie!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-14369794882662200572007-12-17T10:20:00.000-08:002007-12-18T17:29:22.604-08:00Dave's Top Ten for 2007<span style="font-family:arial;">Wow! 2007 – What a great year for music! Paring down this year’s releases to ten titles was indeed a chore. After much deliberation, I used the “heavy rotation” method, which simply means I chose the albums that spent the most time in my CD player and on my iPod. The ten that made it to the top are listed below. A few of the releases that almost made the grade follow.<br />Here goes:<br /><br />But wait, not so fast. First, an oversight from 2006 that deserves mention.<br /><strong>Bobby Bare Jr.'s Young Criminals Starvation League - </strong></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"><strong>The Longest Meow</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The son of a country legend, Bobby Bare Jr. has a long and uneven catalogue, but with The Longest Meow, he has produced an offbeat, country tinged, heartfelt masterpiece. (OK, not quite a masterpiece, but it deserves a listen!)<br /><br />Now, on with the main event!<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>The 2007 Top Ten</strong></span> (in no particular order…)<br /><br /><strong>Blanche - Little Amber Bottles</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The ultimate “evil twang” album. Film noir meets alt-country in a most tasty way.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Shearwater – Palo Santo</strong><br />Rerecorded, repackaged and re-released for 2007, this sadly overlooked release from last year sounds even better now. Soaring tortured vocals, art house instrumentation – certainly not background music.<br /><br /><strong>The White Stripes – Icky Thump<br /></strong>Clapton is God? Sorry Eric. Jack White IS God.<br /><br /><strong>PJ Harvey – White Chalk</strong><br />PJ strips it down to produce a haunting, keyboard dominated release. Best listened to well after dark by candlelight.<br /><br /><strong>The National – Boxer</strong><br />PASTE magazine’s top album of the year could very well be mine, too.<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><strong>LCD Soundsystem - </strong></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"><strong>Sound of Silver</strong></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Hey North American Scum! James Murphy’s beats will have you dancing long into the night.<br /><br /><strong>Great Lake Swimmers - </strong></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"><strong>Ongiara </strong></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />I never thought anyone could “out folk” Iron and Wine, but Tony Dekker et al have done just that. In a word – gorgeous.<br /><br /><strong>Eddie Vedder – Into The Wild</strong><br />It appears Eddie has grow’d up, and we all benefit. A smart, mature effort highlighted by an incredibly addictive cover of Indio’s “Hard Sun”.<br /><br /><strong>Oakley Hall – I’ll Follow You</strong><br />NY’s Oakley Hall (Papa Crazee from Oneida) have released their finest country-rock-hoedown to date.<br /><br /><strong>Spoon – Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga</strong><br />The most accessible album yet from Austin’s indie darlings. They have all it takes to break into the mainstream, from tight edgy grooves to an extremely charismatic front man (Britt Daniel), but do they really want to?<br /><br /><strong>Honorable Mentions:</strong><br />Grinderman (Nick Cave)<br />Caribou – Andorra<br />Lee Hazlewood – Cake or Death (album title of the year)<br />Low – Drums and Guns<br />Queens of the Stoneage – Era Vulgaris<br />The Purrs – The Chemistry That Keeps Us Together<br />Heavy Trash – Going Way Out With Heavy Trash<br />Soundtrack – I’m Not There (Dylan Covers)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">The Twilight Sad - Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters</span>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15755436.post-51660882294075747252007-12-06T12:39:00.000-08:002007-12-10T06:02:48.306-08:00Airbound Again: Random Musings from Columbus"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a metal detector. It therefore detects METAL. If you are wearing, carrying or otherwise have anything on your person that IS metal, it will detect it."<br />Yes, certainly patronizing, but then again, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">surprisingly</span> effective!<br /><br />You know you're flying a low cost airline when their slogan is "Hungry? Thirsty? Bring cash."<br /><br />When was the last time the national security level, as designated by the Office of Homeland Security, set to something other than "orange"? I fly a lot, and I don't recall if there even are any other colors. As we are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">constantly</span> reminded by annoying <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">loudspeaker</span> broadcasts, the orange designation indicates a "heightened" level of security due to an increased "threat". However, they neglect to elaborate on the exact nature of this threat, choosing instead to implore us to report any "suspicious activities" to airport personnel. Are we destined to remain in this state of orange for ever? I pine for the good old "mauve" days...<br /><br />You know you're flying a low cost airline when they wait until your scheduled departure time has passed before informing you that your plane will be delayed by at least an hour.<br /><br />I like Christmas carols.<br />This may come as a bit of a shock to you, given my track record of general disdain towards many of society's norms and traditions. But don't worry, it came as quite a shock to me, too. Let me explain.<br />As I sit in this airport waiting for a delayed departure, my fellow passengers and I are being inundated with Christmas music. Now, my first reaction to this invasion of my privacy was in keeping with my usual conditioned response to all things pertaining to Christmas, or as I prefer to call it, the greatest display of rampant unbridled consumerism known to mankind. This would explain the sneer on my face as carolers sang of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mistletoe</span>.<br />However, moments later as my thoughts wandered elsewhere, I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">surprised</span> to notice that a smile had appeared on my face. Upon further investigation I realized that the smile had nothing to do with something humorous, or was the result of some cute girl smiling at me (remember, I'm in an airport in Columbus, Ohio and school is out - any cute girls have left the state). No, the smile was the result of the Christmas Carols and there was nothing I could do about it.<br />"But why the smile?" I asked myself. "I hate <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Christmas</span> Carols!"<br />Or do I? It's true, I really dislike Country stars crooning away about Bethlehem, and could certainly live without another Norman Rockwell styled <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">muzak</span> interpretation of a holiday standard.<br />But, the truth of the matter is that Christmas Carols make me think about my mother, and she LOVED Christmas, carols included. My mother was a woman who started planning for Christmas in February, and was buying little thoughtful gifts for people each year before spring had even sprung! And Mom loved to hum and sing along when Christmas carols started playing on radios and in malls (and probably in airports, too). They made her happy, and brought back memories of her family.<br />So, for this moment, I'm happy, too. And it's because of the memory of my mother, and yes, because of Christmas Carols.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06553554978965118694noreply@blogger.com0