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11/30/2008 What's in a name? A Margherita is NOT a Margarita! OK, fess up... how many of you have ordered a Margherita pizza and assumed it was some sort of Mexican pizza? It has green stuff on it, right? A Mexican margarita is green, right? That's where the similarities end; for it was the Queen of Italy, Margherita Maria Teresa Giovanna di Savoia, (or Margaret of Savoy) who inadvertently started this pizza tradition. What happened was, she was hungry and she wanted a pizza. Her chef, wanting to impress the almighty Queen, baked a pizza with the colors of the national flag, green, white, and red. Tradition holds that green represents the country's plains and the hills, white, the snow-capped Alps and red, blood spilt in the Wars of Italian Independence. The good Queen's pizza held Bazil, fresh Mozeralla cheese, and of course, homemade tomato sauce. She loved the pizza, and the Margherita pizza was born. Had the good Queen enjoyed a Tequilla ridden Margarita at the same time, an entirely new dish would have probably been named, the "Double Margie" or something even cooler! Prison Today, we walked another six miles (according to the GPS) and logged another 300 steps for a total change in elevation of 432 feet down and back up. We saw (and climbed) the Spanish Steps, Trajan's column, the Piazza di Veniza which is home to the Altare della Patria (Alter of the Father) and resting place of Italy's first King. We also saw the Pantheon and actually witnessed a Sunday morning Mass service there. The most humbling thing we saw today was the prison where the disciples Peter and Paul were kept. The prison is right on the edge of the ruins of ancient rome and by golly, when you walk into the prison and take the spiraling stone steps down, there's no doubt that if you were chained to a marble column down there, you were definately stuck for a long, long time. There's a hole in the roof through which prisoners were lowered into the cell below. At the base of the stairs, there is a tiny room (enough space for two people to comfortably stand it) and the walls, ceiling, and floor were all covered with huge stones. The pillar that Peter was chained to is still standing in place and a crypt with an upside down cross is there to commemorate the fact that the bodies of Paul and Peter were both kept there after their deaths. The upside cross represents the fact that Peter was crucified upside down at his own request, stating that he was not worthy to be crucified the same way that Jesus was. If memory serves, there's a passage in the epilogue of the gospel of John where Jesus hints at the end that Peter would suffer. Jesus said something like, "You will stretch out your hands where someone will help you pass to the place where you don't wish to go." The Prison was constructed around the time of the first "Sack" of Rome around 3 or 4 hundred years before Christ. It was originally created as a cistern for a spring in the floor of the second lower level (there were two, the lower of which was where prisoners were kept by lowering them through the floor of the upper room). This is the likely source of the water Paul used to baptize his fellow prisoners. Eventually a passage from the cistern drain was constructed, reputedly for flushing out the dead prisoner's bodies. Typically, only higher profile prisoners were kept in the prison, usually foreign commanders who were defeated and became the centerpiece in a Roman triumphant procession. They usually remained incarcerated until they were paraded and killed in public. Standing in this prison cell was humbling, indeed. I took a small pinch of dirt for my Mom, who was unable to come with us on this trip. I'll send it home to her in a small glass bottle. Home Tomorrow! At long last and after walking at least 70 miles in 10 days (I lost count of the stairs), we fly home tomorrow! To our mutual surprise, there is quite a bit of our trip budget left over. Also, we were never robbed, pilfered, injured, lost, or hospitalized! Although, Lisa encountered some pick-pockets who were running a "pregnant woman" scam (she read about the scam in the travel book). Honestly, it was just like the book said, one woman would dress as a humble, begging, pregnant mother-to-be, and the other older woman (presumable her mother?) would walk alongside with a message written on a HUGE piece of cardboard. They would approach, flash the big board in your face to distract you, and steal your stuff. Lisa recognized it right away as a scam and pointed a finger in the old woman's face before barking, "NO!" Then, she barked at me, "WATCH YOUR POCKETS!" Both women and I were frightened enough to scatter at that point and Lisa was honestly ready to slam a pregnant woman into the wall, even if she WAS faking... Good times, good times... I will post the last of the photos, but honestly... we took more than a thousand. They don't sell film here anymore, they sell memory cards instead. If your camera is full, you can always buy another 1Gb card to take 100 more. We're not the type of people to force anyone to watch a slide show of our trip to Italy, but if you ask me to bring my laptop to the next small group or dinner party, I'll be happy to leave the full slide show running so that anyone who wants to can look at ALL of the pics. There are some that would make nice wallpapers or postcards too, so if you want one, all you need do is ask. kjw 11/29/2008 Just not enough...I'm not sure what to say today. Today, we saw/covered the following sites: -Ancient Rome -The Forum -The Cupola over St. Peter's Basilica -The "Actual" St. Peter's Basilica -The Coliseum -Caesar Augustus' Palace -Trevi Fountain -Walk through the shopping district back to our hotel I'm so tired, I'm having trouble sitting up straight enough to write this. I think for this entry that in lieu of writing something pithy, humorous, or informative, I'll just post a bucket-load of pictures and go to bed. If you have questions about anything, shoot me an email and I'll do my best! 11/28/2008 Brothels and Rome and History, oh my The Red Lights of Pompeii I struggled with whether or not to write this in the blog, because it's a bit on the naughty side. However, our trip is all about history and these are, after all, the facts! So here goes... While in Pompeii, we would occasionally these stone phallic symbols in the streets or on the walls of shops, all pointing in one general direction. Our guide told us that those were original stones, set by the builders of the town to point to the red light district. Sailors and merchants from all over the world would come (remember, Pompeii was an international sea port) and the arrows pointed them in the direction of the girls and their rooms. Moreover, above each room, there was a painting that illustrated precisely what that particular girl's uh, "specialty" was. All of those paintings were still extremely well preserved (see pictures) and we certainly got a kick out them! A Latin sign inscribed on the wall says, "Show us your money!" There were lamb-skin condoms available, as well as an antiseptic cleaner available, made from boiled vinegar. I shook my head and thought, "How sad that the more things change... the more they stay the same." Fast Coffee We set a new record on the train... 190 miles per hour for about a solid hour of travel! The Eurostar trains are fantastic, we have consistently booked second class tickets and that gives you an assigned window seat, a place to stow your luggage, access to the nice restaurant car, and free access to clean toilets. The restaurant car has all sorts of hot food, espresso, cappuccino, wine, beer, coke, diet coke, you name it, they have it. Their espresso is growing on me, I must say. I found it a bit acidic at first, but I think that's only because I let it cool down too much. If sipped while steaming hot, it's quite delicious. It is a bit sad though that a shot glass full of strong espresso is about six U.S. dollars... Still; I won't be going back to Starbucks any time soon. It's amazing to me that even the lowliest little pizzeria places have espresso machines worth many thousands of dollars! They take their coffee very, very seriously. Most of the time when they see us, they assume we'll want "Cafe, American" which is their version of American style coffee. It's a shot of espresso with a ton of hot milk poured in so the average American can stomach the acid. We Wintered at the Vatican in '08 If I haven't mentioned this yet, Winter is definately the time to see Italy if you have an interest in the museums. If it's the country side, the flowers, fruits, green rolling hills, sea birds nesting in the craggy rocks of Capris, and green majestic mountains you want to see, come in the summer with the other billion tourists. If you hate waiting in line at the museum, come in the Winter. Seriously, most people make reservations to see Michelangelo's David at least six months in advance. We walked right in. At the Vatican today, we managed to seed the Sixtine Chapel AND the Vatican Museum in less than five hours! We took an early train out of Naples and arrived in Rome at 1pm. We walked about a mile to our hotel (The Marriott Grand Flora Hotel, look it up, it's off the hook) and immediately took a Taxi to the Vatican, hoping to see something, anything, before the day ran out. To our surprise, we walked right up to the ticket window and bought two tickets to the Chapel and Museum. We walked (and walked and walked and walked) through what seemed like MILES of painted ceiling, pre-christ statues and paintings and tapestries (oh my). I commented to Lisa, "Wow, it sure seems like we've walked at least a mile and we're still not even to the Sixtine Chapel yet!" Lisa said, "Honey, these double-wide hallways are usually packed, because we're in the LINE that goes to the Sixtine Chapel." <SNAP> Sure enough, I remember now how people have told me that they stood in line for HOURS to see the paintings in the Chapel. We walked at whatever speed we wanted, slowing down to see the incredible tapestries (literally, 30 feet high and 50 feet long), and speeding up past the creepy Jesuses. Most of the pictures of paintings included with this blog entry were way up on the ceiling. I zoomed in and stood as still as possible to take them without a flash. The Chapel was breathtaking. Just when you think you can't stand another museum... you look up and the paintings are so realistic, that they seem to be walking right out of the walls. You get a bit of vertigo too, because the ceiling is SO high, it's easy to get dizzy staring up at it. I marveled at the hordes of people holding onto one another with their necks all craned straight up at the ceilling! Michelangelo's masterpiece was there, (God Touching Adam, or as I like to call it, the "Pull my Finger" painting) along with many, many others. We found a seat on a near by bench and stared upward till our necks hurt, then we stared for another fifteen full minutes. We left the chapel and still had two hours to see the museum! I had no idea, but the Vatican museum has so many things besides historical Pope, Catholic, Apostle, and other artifacts related to Christianity. There were endless Roman warrior pieces (I saw my first complete chariot), armor, Egyptian mummies and artifacts, I could go on and on. The pictures here are the best I could do, no flash bulbs were allowed so they might be a bit blurry. Lisa actually stood still as a tripod a few times and it worked well!. Thanks? I should have mentioned yesterday, when Lisa and I were inquiring at the Concierge desk, the man asked me, "Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?" "Sure," I replied. "In America, you have this Holiday of Thanksgiving, is that right?" I said, "Yes, that's right." He asked, "Well, do you mind, uh, can I ask, well... 'Thanks' for what, exactly?" I laughed out loud... I told him the whole story; Pilgrims, yada, yada, Maize, yada, yada, Indians, etc... He said, "Oh, that's lovely. We have a similar Thanksgiving day for the day we won out our independence after World War II, with help from you Americans, of course." He shook hands, and vowed to be thankful for the day... He was a very nice man. That's all for today, tomorrow is more stuff from Rome, I'm sure I'll have more to write about. If you have questions or comments, please send them to us at KJLMWalker@msn.com. Thanks! 11/27/2008 Naples and the CoastParking
Parallel parking presents a challenge to some people. In Italy, I’ve noticed that the cars parked along the curb in parallel are closer to each other than you might be comfortable with in the good ol’ U.S. of A. A LOT closer! There’s maybe, oh, six inches of space in front and behind most of the cars. “How do they parallel park that closely,” you ask? Simple…
You start by backing into the space, like you normally would under any other parallel parking circumstance. In Italy, however, you proceed until you hear the “THUMP” of your rear bumper against the front bumper of the car behind you (an immediate “failure” of your attempt at any driving school in America). Then, you turn your front wheels inward and you ease forward until you hear the “THUMP” of your front bumper against the rear of the car in front of you. You repeat this procedure, forwards and backwards until you’re “in.” Simple.
When it comes to finding a space to park in, having a small car certainly comes in handy. Having been here over a week now, Lisa and my combined counted total of SUVs being driven around is one (1). People get around on scooters, motorcycles, and in tiny, tiny cars. “Smart” cars are everywhere. Our guide told us that his brother drives a Smart car and when he goes out at night to discos, he always finds a place to park… He told us that one night, they simply rolled a trash bin out of the way and parked in the space it had occupied!
Liquid Cheese
Tonight was Thanksgiving for Lisa and me. We knew that turkey and dressing and yams, etc, were not an option, but we did want to have something nice, so we asked around and the locals pointed us to a small family owned restaurant that specialized in serving the local cuisine of Naples. It was a short walk and we found the place extremely “homey.” So much so that the family that runs the restaurant was eating together at a table next to us. Whenever a new customer would come in or a new dish would arrive from the kitchen via the Dumbwaiter, one of the family crew would hop up and take care of the situation. They were very helpful with the menu and dinner couldn’t have been more delicious! We had pasta with garlic and chili peppers, pasta with Mussels, a medley of local vegetables (lightly fried), Calamari, and Filet Mignon in a Parmesan cheese sauce. The sauce was liquid gold and it flowed like gravy! We had dessert and a bottle of wine… it was Thanksgiving Italian style and we loved it.
Pompeii
We saw Pompeii today through the eyes of an educated guide. He was marvelous! He took us through the entire city and told us of all of the different rooms, the geography, the streets, and all of the different things to see and do, through the eyes of a local Pompeii resident. He told us stories and all about the ways of life in Pompeii, prior to the monstrous volcanic explosion. In the pictures, you’ll see two peaks of Mount Vesuvius. If you trace the slope from each peak to draw a single high peak in the middle, that’s how tall the volcano used to be, prior to the explosion! As you can see, it was nothing short of Apocalyptic… Pompeii was a thriving sea-port before the explosion. Ironically, it was built out of volcanic stone which was very prevalent in the area. Remember, this city was bustling at least 500 years before Christ was on the earth and they had:
- Graded streets with rainwater runoff - Elevated sidewalks to cross the streets - Sewers and running water (with pressure to run the fountains) - Toilets and sewage treatment facilities where they would harvest ammonia to clean their laundry - Aqueducts - Sliding barn doors and garage doors (wooden) - Reflective stones to find your way through streets at night - Tiled entry-ways - Tiled roads, with smoothed grooves cut for chariot wheels - Named streets, complete with Latin names and numbers, laid out in a grid - Gold jewelry - Surgical tools and needles - Glass bottles - Fast food restaurants and cafeterias - Farming, fishing, open air markets - Sundials and AM, PM time demarcation - Red-light district (it was an international seaport) - Painted stucco walls and frescos - Covered sidewalks and multi-story homes and shopping areas
The sights of Pompeii were a real eye-opener for me. No matter what you study about the city or the people, it is amazing to walk in the shadow of that volcano and see how civilized they were and how they lived their lives. These weren’t meager people, searching for sustenance to “get by.” These were a thriving people who sent their kids to universities, spoke Latin, and enjoyed life.
All Roads Lead to Rome
Tomorrow morning after
breakfast, we’ll head to Rome
on another train. It’s the last city of
the trip and while we’ve seen so many fantastic things, we’re ready to stop
packing and unpacking. Getting
everything we’ve bought, home in one piece, will be a challenge, but we’ll find
a way.
11/25/2008 Walking and Walking and Walking and WalkingMy Bathtub Epiphany So, I was laying in a bathtub with the water 2 degrees hotter than I could possibly stand it, trying to soak some of the day’s walking out of my feet and legs and I had this epiphany… I had a pizza box in my lap and a slice of the most wonderful pizza in my left hand, and a very dry Martini in the right, and I thought, as I took another bite, “In America, Grandmothers all over the country have figured out the dichotomy of tender and flaky. Somehow, when you put a fork through a nice pie crust, it flakes apart; but it’s still a bit tender as your teeth gnash their way through the base of the crust.” I thought about this as I thoughtfully chewed some pizza crust. “The Italians, on the other hand, have invested their culinary wisdom into the simultaneous concurrence of crunchy and chewy.” God bless the Italians, for when it comes to pizza, a three day old piece of the worst in Florence, is still better than a fresh pie from Pappa John’s any day. I went on to finish the pizza, the martini, and I almost needed a crane to set me back to vertical after my soak.
Manly Toilet Seats
Rejoice men, the toilet seat war is indeed one for the ages; but the Italians are on it! It would seem that every single public toilet seat in Italy is secured in the “UP” position. In fact, if you put it down, it will spring back up again… the way John Crapper originally intended it to be. It even mists a nice fragrant deodorizer when its slow climb back to vertical finally climaxes. Saints be praised!
Creepy Baby Jesus
OK, after looking at hundreds of millions of dollars worth of Renaissance paintings today, Lisa and I want to know one thing. Wasn’t there anyone alive in the thirteenth, fourteenth, or fifteenth century that could paint a likeness of the baby Jesus that wasn’t just downright creepy? The poor child looked balding, scary, stern, angry, confused… We started naming them, “Hey honey, did you see the painting in the other room with “Vampire Jesus?” There was “Moe Jesus,” and “Curly Jesus,” and “Larry Jesus.” We saw “Bob Newhart Jesus” and the list went on an on. I understand that Catholicism runs deep in Italy, I totally get that. Seeing Mary and Jesus on canvas, wood, in sculpture, etc, is to be expected, but wow. Give the poor boy a pleasant countenance, is that too much to ask?
I shouldn’t complain. The history of this place is just awesome. I was trying to think of a way to express it that would really drive home the point… I just can’t even begin. This is another one of those things that leaves you slack-jawed if you pause to think about it for any length of time. Think about this… Leonardo DaVinci was SURROUNDED by priceless works of art (dating back to the time before Christ) when he started painting at the age of 20. At roughly the same time in Spain, a man named Chris Columbus started thinking that the world might not be flat after all, and he set sail to prove it, discovering a new continent in the process. Roughly three HUNDRED years after that, some men in the Colonies decided that they’d had enough of merry old England and they had themselves a revolution. Two HUNDRED years later, I was in the fifth grade heaving water balloons at Jerry Snow because I thought she was cute. Ten years later at twenty, I was in College and most certainly NOT painting the next Mona Lisa.
We saw so many paintings from this time period that they almost started to get boring. “Here’s another creepy Jesus, again, OH, here’s another disciple… LOOK, there’s the original painting they must have used for the opening of ‘Desperate Housewives,’ more disciples… Goliath’s head on a sword… John the Baptist’s head on another plate… OOOH, here’s one from Michelangelo…” There was more history and art in that one museum than I’ve seen anywhere in our country, ever. We felt very fortunate, just to be let into the place.
Big Dave
Michelangelo’s David is… well; just… breathtaking. Literally. You find yourself walking through the museum, checking your guidebook, looking around, feeling a bit more educated about art since you’ve been in 23 other museums… you’re wondering just what the big deal is about David, and when you turn the corner and see him for the first time, well, you just stop breathing for a minute. I stopped walking, he was still a full football field away from me and I stopped in my tracks and thought simply, “He’s awesome!” Up to that point, every single painting or sculpture I’d seen of David and Goliath was violent. It was bloody. There was David, holding Goliath’s head up, with blood literally spraying all over his body. There was David, Goliath’s sword raised over his head, standing on his dead body, etc.
This was different. The first thing I thought was, “He’s humble.” Here’s a depiction of David, with his famous sling casually tossed over his shoulder with one hand and a rock, loosely cradled in the other. His face is so incredibly, meticulously detailed that you can see in his eyes the look of a man who’d just killed another man; and regardless of how pre-ordained the outcome might have been, he looks a bit “sad” about it. As I walked closer to him, he grew HUGE! He’s much bigger than I thought he was. His body is eighteen feet tall and he stands on a seven foot platform, so his head is a solid twenty five feet in the air when you finally get really close to him. You can see the scars on his knuckles, the cracks in his toenails, the veins in his hands, and the pupils in the corneas of his eyes. Every fold of skin, every dimple, even the flex of the standing calf muscle in his right foot is obvious. How a man cut him from stone is just baffling and yet, several other statues that were commissioned to Michelangelo, ones that he did not finish, were on hand to show a bit of the process and it was still awe-inspiring. I can’t remember who the prophet was who said it, and I’m paraphrasing a bit but it was something like, “When I compare the proportion, the detail, the countenance, and the emotion that David shows his viewers, I am convinced that no other sculpture needs even to be studied.” I couldn’t agree more.
463 Steps to Heaven
From the moment I saw groups of people WAY up in the tippy-top of the Duomo of Florence (the Cathedral), I knew I had to go up there (this is the reason why I’m now in the bathtub). Lisa had walked enough for one day (it was a LONG day) but I wanted pictures of the sunset over Florence from 400 feet high or whatever, so I went. She went shopping, I went climbing. There are 463 steps to the top of the Duomo. These steps are built and carved out of the original stone they used to build the Cathedral. They go up, spiral staircase fashion, and the way up is narrower than my shoulders and shorter than my height. In other words, I had to walk up sideways with my head cocked to one side! Somewhere about 30 steps into the journey, I had some second thoughts. I couldn’t quit though because the only way back down at that point would have been “through” the people coming up behind me. Nope, the only out was up… so up is where I went! It took a long time, but the journey was worth it. I got some great pictures and I got to see the fresco that was painted on the ceiling, way up close! See the enclosed pictures to get an idea.
Italian Wine to the USA?
Lisa and I are trying like crazy to find a way to bring some wine home. Since we didn’t check a bag, and since liquids on the plane are a “no-no,” we considered shipping home some bottles. Well, we discovered today that that the cost of the shipping is $120 for six bottles, plus the tax and oh yea… the cost of the wine! Seriously, $250 for six bottles of wine is beyond our budget. Plan “B” is to buy the cheapest suitcase we can find, wrap some bottles in our dirty clothes, and check that mother on the airplane! Time will tell.
Stuck Bus
One last funny story…
on the way home we were seated (for the first time all day) in the back of the
#22 bus. According to my GPS, our stop
was only .13 miles from our hotel, and according to our current pain factor,
that was just about right at the limit of what we could tolerate for the
remainder of the day. We approached our
stop and we hit the button to signal the driver that we wanted to stop. The usual “DING” didn’t sound. “Hmmm,” we thought, “Will he stop?” Well, the answer was “no.” In fact, Lisa and I weren’t the only ones who
wanted to stop. As the driver sped past
the stop, screams of “ALTO, ALTO!” reached his ears and about a half mile past
where we wanted to go, he made a decision.
History is littered with bad decisions.
The one our driver made was colossal!
For some reason, he thought the best idea would be to attempt a “U-turn”
in the middle of the busy 4-lane street!
I have all of this on video and I will eventually put it up on YouTube
so stay tuned… Anyway, he turned left across two lanes of traffic into a
parking lot. Please realize, this is a
big city bus; it’s one of those extra long ones with extra seats. He turned, miscalculated the ramp that led up
into the parking lot he was aiming for and “Scraaaape, WHACK!
SSSSSssssssssssssss” is what we heard next!
Lisa diagnosed the problem immediately, “He broke the bus; holy crap, he
broke the bus!” It gets better, he tried
to BACK UP into traffic to complete the U-turn.
Now, I don’t know if the “SSSSSSSsssssssssss” was a loss of pressure or
transmission fluid or what, but no mater how high the engine revved, all we
heard was a grinding of metal as the bus refused to go anywhere. Surprisingly, the people ON the bus were
quite calm (which is more than I can say for the drivers of the cars trying to go
either direction on the street). He
finally opened the doors, and we walked back to the hotel… I felt sorry for
him, I’m sure the broken bus was the least of his worries!
11/24/2008 Wayward Carts and the Bathroom Budget Another Fabulous Breakfast This morning presented another unbelievable opportunity to eat. I had a prosciutto omelet with smoked mozzarella in extra virgin olive oil with Italian peppers and a side of baby greens in a balsamic vinaigrette reduction. It was unbelievable. Lisa had another bowl of Cocoa Krispies. If anyone knows of a support group for foodies who live with people who just don't give a rip, I'd love to hear about it. Here are some of Lisa's rules, maybe some of you can offer me some insight:
She says that her mother used to tell guests who hosted them for dinner, "Please don't even try to feed her, she makes her own food." If there's a place on the planet that she might try new things, it's here in Italy... Hope springs eternal, and I will keep trying. Carts from hell There was a grocery store across the street from our hotel and we needed some things like band-aids, tweezers, hair gel, and one other thing... Oh yea, Vodka! A bottle of vodka is 12 euros. Most drinks at the hotel bar are 12 euros each, while mixers like 7-up are free. Do the math, we're not stupid. We walked over to shop. I was excited to see an Italian grocery store (call me weird, but I love to watch people and I love grocery stores). On going in, you see a pile of shopping carts... normal, right? Wrong! Each cart was connected to the cart in front of it with a small cable and a key. You had to insert a Euro coin to turn the key and release your cart! Also, the carts each had four swiveling wheels, as opposed to just the two front wheels we have in the U.S. I LOVED the cart! That thing turned on a dime and was a breeze to drive. We shopped, noting that there were indeed 5 different kinds of fresh calamari to be purchased over the seafood counter. After paying for the goods, we learned that the only way you can get your Euro back is if you dutifully put your cart back in line and hook it up to the other carts so your coin would be returned to you. Guess how many wayward carts were blowing around, loose in the streets? That's right, ZERO! Bathrooms It costs 1 Euro to use a public restroom. I've been playing these games with my bladder, telling it, "You can wait for 42 minutes, then we'll be on a train and you can go for free!" Lisa has been very good about budgeting her bathroom needs, so far we've only spent about $7.50 going to the bathroom. Line? What Line? There's no Line! Italians are funny. On one hand, they're a very chivalrous group. Take the subway, for example. If you're not sickly, handicapped, elderly, "Holy" (nun or priest), or a woman, you'd better not be sitting down. As far as I can tell, that's the general pecking order for seats. If you're a healthy young male, expect to be rousted by any of the other healthy men on the train. Fortunately, I witnessed this second hand before I had the urge to sit down... They are polite to a fault, constantly saying please, thank you, you're welcome, etc. But on the other hand... when it comes to waiting in line? Forget it. There's no line. It's all about assertiveness and wanting to be "first." During the early part of our trip, we were quick to yield, not wanting to offend any of the locals. Lisa has since learned to "hip check" with the best of them though, and we haven't lost a spot since. I love that woman's booty... Train We took a high-speed train to Florence today and it was awesome! Rocketing along, well over 100mph in comfy seats with a nice table between us was very cool. For roughly $120, two people can zip from Milan to Florence in just over two hours. The train had a cool restaurant car in it, was very clean, quiet, and it will baffle me silly to wonder why we don't have trains like this all over America between popular cities. Mnpls to Duluth, Houston to Dallas, L.A. to Vegas, etc. Reservations for David Michelangelo's David is a popular guy. You need a reservation to see him. I called the concierge at our hotel some time ago and when we checked in to the hotel, he presented us with an envelope that had reservations not only to see David, but for the Academia Museum as well! The Academia is famous for holding many paintings from anybody who "was" anybody in the art world. Expect more pictures to be posted tomorrow, but I don't believe they're allowed inside some of the museums. We'll do our best. Art and Leather Word around town is that there are many, many student artists here who are quite good. To earn their tuition, they frequently sell their work, on original canvas, in tubes to carry them home. We're definitely on the lookout for that. Also, the leather goods here are supposed to be second to none. I'd like a nice pair of driving gloves, myself. Lisa is drooling over a new purse... More to come tomorrow, as the only exciting thing left for this day is to do some laundry in the hotel basement...... Ciao! OH, we have a view of the mountains from our room, very cool! 11/23/2008 Smacked in the Tally with a Long Red Whacker! There are trains in the U.S. but they're nothing to get very excited about after you've reached the age of oh... 6. The train we took to Milan was different. It was purely for passengers and it sailed along the tracks at an incredibly smooth 122 miles per hour! The seats on this train were arranged so that four people could sit together and share a small table. Two people faced forward, and the other two faced the rear. Lisa and I had seats, side by side, that faced the front and we rolled the dice on who might be assigned the seats across from us. As luck would have it, it was a family of three from Africa. Husband, wife, and 4 year old child. They packed themselves into the two seats across from us, and with all of our knees touching, we settled in for the 2 hour ride. I fell asleep almost instantly... my feet were burning from a full day's walking in a new pair of shoes (my own fault) and I was just flat out tired. Meanwhile, the young African boy directly across from me disassembled the long red stick from beneath his shiny new balloon. I was passed out cold when suddenly I was roused from my dream by a sharp and very deliberate poke to the crotch. I came fully awake, instantly, and was ready to hit somebody. Hard! I saw a young boy's smiling face as it retreated from my own while his father yanked him backwards. I saw the devil in that face... and some of my anger turned to fear. Fortunately, the family wasn't going all the way to Milan and they left the train only two stops later. I thought back to my own childhood and tried to imagine what my parents would have done to me, had I stabbed someone with my balloon stick... It wasn't pretty, I can assure you. Lisa's new Boyfriend! Lisa has a new boyfriend. He's about 70 years old, 4 foot 10 inches tall on a good day, and he might weigh 85lbs. He's from Sicily, and he owns a restaurant (you can see his picture below). We ordered dinner tonight and he was so thoughtful and gracious that I, myself, almost fell in love with him. He approached the table and I began to tell him what I thought Lisa might like. He shushed me, and turned to her and said, "What is it you liiike, ha? Do you like-a the pasta? do you like-a the pizza? Maybe ahhhh the seafood, hah?" She said, "I like spaghetti." He got very excited and said, "Lemme tell-a you, this-a one here... she's a mah favorite-a, my momma... she used to cook-a this one, she taught me how to make-a the sauce... You gotta make it-a very slow, and you stir the sauce like-a this..." and he pretended to stir some sauce and hypnotically, Lisa fell under his spell. She ordered spaghetti and loved it. She ordered the Tiramisu and loved it! Please understand, Lisa never eats dessert and even more rarely eats Tiramisu. She HATES Tiramisu, won't eat it, won't even have a bite, but she devoured Gissepi's Tiramisu... I think it might have been because he was so smitten with her. He escorted her to the dessert showcase, he was a man in love. Simba, the Restaurant Yorkie Have I mentioned the dogs? There are dogs everywhere here. My new favorite dog is a Yorkie named Simba! He's the local restaurant owner's dog and he comes and goes as he pleases. To see a small dog roaming around the restaurant while you eat is a bit "new" for Americans, but as dog people, we really dig it. Simba doesn't beg and he completely understands the business. I twas pretty cool to see. Day Two... Now THAT'S a Church! Here's a riddle, "How do you tell the Americans, as you walk the streets of Milan?" The answer is, "They're the ones dressed like crap!" Everyone here in Milan looks fabulous. It's incredible, they all look like they're prepared for a fashion photographer to walk around the corner and say, "Hello, can pose for a quick pic for next month's Cosmo?" They're all in $1,000 worth of clothes, men and women alike. I think I'm wearing less than $100 worth right now, and I got new shoes last week! At any rate, Milan is as new and fabulous and Venice is unique and historic. We started the day on a quest to see DaVinci's Last Supper. Reservations to see it are typically made months in advance and we were hoping for a cancellation, but alas, it was not so. We "settled" for the DaVinci science museum. It was amazing to see his notebook and to see everything he'd invented from the pile driver to helicopters, parachutes, paddle-boats, war ships, you name it, and the detailed drawings of human anatomy were just stunning. We left the museum and went to the Duomo... Duomo means "Cathedral" and boy, does Milan have one. Looking at the towers, the spires, it's just more than enough to leave you awestruck. No wonder they warn you of pick-pockets, a thief could have stolen my clothes while I stared, slack-jawed, at the collection of towers around the cathedral in front of me. It must have taken an army to build it, I couldn't get past that. They started building it 1386 and didn't get done until 1888. To put that into perspective, the Italians have spent more time building it, than we Americans have spent building our whole country from the day we left England! As we stood on the ground, we were trying to get some scale on the whole thing, it was just too darned big. Walking inside was a treat! They were having Sunday mass while we were there and to hear the organ and to stand 20 feet from the first pope (his bones, anyway). I lit a candle there for my friend Dave and we left to go "mountaineering" on the roof! You can climb up on the roof and walk amongst the towers. it's a bit like walking around an Escher painting, but it's worth it to climb the endless stairs up there. There's a mall across the street, built of equally impressive architecture (it's the picture with the entrance built as a huge archway). And we had lunch at a small cafe with excellent meats and cheeses. I posted some pics, it's amazing. Tomorrow, we head to Florence! I'll write more as we get connected to the Internet. Connectivity is fairly good, but it's expensive, too. Day one... PARIS! I used to believe that the international flights were the ones that always ran on schedule. After all, a full 747 can hold almost 400 people and some of them paid close to $10,000 for the privilege so you would want to get that plane to its destination as a priority, right? Well, we sat on the ground in an Airbus A330 (wide body) for over an hour while they tried to shoe-horn in a cargo box that "wouldn't fit" properly. To me, that seems like something they'd do all the time, but they sure were confused on this day, I can tell you. We were so late, that we missed our connection in Paris. Not to worry, though, they had us re-booked before we even got off the plane. A perk of flying first class perhaps? Anyway, we got to relax in the elite lounge and we even did some shopping there in Paris before leaving again for Venice. Venice was amazing. I can't begin to describe it, there are times when you just stand and look at things and wonder. The engineer in me wonders, "How did they do that? Why did they do it that way? Wow, that's clever. Oh my, that's amazing." At the same time, the artist/photographer in me just looked at things. Some things, like St. Mark's Cathedral are so stunning that you just stand there and look at it until you weep. To know that you're walking around a plaza that one of the 12 disciples walked around in... it really erases the pictures you had in your head from your children's bible, and it brings to the forefront the realism and truth of what happened here. We shopped like crazy in Venice, too. We stumbled, quite randomly, into a Venetian glass factory and met the son of a master craftsman. He was extremely proud of his father's work and we were awestruck at the amazing things he did with glass. We sent a piece home, of course, and I might even sleep with it for a few days before it finds a place on our travel shelf... we noticed that as you walked around Venice, things got more expensive as you got closer to St. Mark's Square and Cathedral. Obviously, that's the big tourist place to be and the closer you were, the more ridiculous the prices were. Diet Coke? $5... but it was $3 cheaper near the train station, a mile away. Maps? There are no maps... How do you map out a city with no streets? Even worse, there's no such thing as East, West, North, or South in Italy. All of the roads have been built around ancient roads that were built, well, "a long time ago" and those roads didn't take "growth" into consideration. They simply connected the dots between the cities. When they say, "All roads lead to Rome," they mean that every other city in Italy got itself a new road to Rome as soon as the Romans conquered it. Today, the city's streets are all in an odd grid pattern that fills the gaps between the ancient primary roads. It's very likely that you'll travel North, East, AND South, all while on the same street. Or not. It's pretty crazy. In Venice, you must keep telling yourself, "I'm on an island that's only 2 miles across... I can't be THAT lost... Just keep going..." Lisa and I probably walked 5 miles, the track on my GPS looks like a drunken snake was chasing its tail. Italians take food very seriously. Very. Even the smallest cafes have waiters in Tuxedos who take the time to explain every nuance of the menu to you, how fresh the tomatoes are that day, where they got their cheese this morning, what's good today, not so good, etc. Then, they expect you to stay for at least two hours. You'll finish your appetizer long before they start cooking the main entree. The fried calamari here is done with the lightest possible breading, and it's so wonderfully firm, yet soft. I don't know how to describe it, but it's like butter! The olives too, they're not brined the same way. Olives always taste a bit salty to me, but the whole green olives I've had here are more "nutty" tasting and they're just delicious. At breakfast, there were exotic fruits, veggies, meats, cold cuts, breads, eggs, etc, etc, I was in heaven. Lisa, true to her predictable form, headed straight to the cereal table and had herself a bowl of Cocoa Crispies. *sigh* I can't force the woman to try new things, but I hope she knows what she's missing. "You went to Italy for a week and ate Cereal?" "Yes. And Pizza... I ate Pizza." I can't blame her for that... the Pizza is firm, crispy, fresh, chewy, fresh, hot, amazing, fresh... We noticed that there are tons of dogs in Venice. All well-mannered and well behaved, but the weird thing is, there's no grass. Not a blade, just water, ancient stone, and cobblestone walkways. I'm sure the dogs potty, but we never saw any evidence of it. Without further ado, here's some pics of Venice. I've also posted them on my facebook page at: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2294&id=1661047120&saved 11/13/2008 Flying Out!OK, something must be wrong here, because the day could not have gone more smoothly. We slept in (yay)! and woke to a house full of clean laundry and empty suitcases. Some of you know, we're attempting 11 days in Italy, across 5 cities, without checking any luggage. I'm so proud of Lisa for only packing two pairs of shoes, I could cry! Everything is in two roll-aboard bags and my backpack. We left money for the house sitter, and food for her in the fridge, Ken's car is in the shop for a tune-up while we're gone, and Lisa's is parked at the dealership where they offer free rides to the airport and free car storage while you're gone. Right now, we're sitting in thie airport lounge. I'm enjoying some awesome coffee and Lisa's working (of course). I'll make her stop as soon as we actually leave, for I have the only laptop and I plan to change the password. NOTES: Thanks for calling, Dave... that's AWESOME news! Shelly, 98 hours on a tilt-a-whirl just can't be beat. No wonder you're only three feet tall! 9/26/2008 Italian Thanksgiving! Italian Turkey? So, we're headed to Italy! This year instead of debating whether to spend turkey-day at the Wallace's or the Walker/Prichard's, we've decided to spend it in Italy! We'll be in Venice, Mulan, Florence, Naples, and Rome. Stay tuned here for details starting November 20th or so! 9/7/2006 Way Down Under (Day 3)Body Polishing As a kid growing up in Houston, I spent many a day body-surfing the “waves” of Galveston Beach. I put the word “waves” in quotes because I actually “frolicked” in some legitimate waves this afternoon! You’ll see why “frolicked” is in quotes in just a paragraph or two.
There were some big storms that blew through early this morning, and they must have pulled some big waves in behind them. Waves were breaking close to ten feet on the beach during breakfast (breakfast is “breaky” here). There were already plenty of surfers in full wet suits screaming through the curls and having a blast as I made my way to work. I made a mental note to get back from work as early as possible to do some body surfing!
How can I describe this? I’m no fluid dynamics genius, but what I saw on the beach just blew me away. Wave after monstrous wave mercilessly beat up the beach and I couldn’t wait to get in and tap my considerable body surfing skills! Lacking a wetsuit, and any other protection save my Lifetime fitness swim goggles, I said a quick prayer to ask God to protect me from any of the numerous deadly creatures that swam in the midst, and into the water I went!
My teeth were chattering involuntarily, even before my head broke the surface of the water. My lips were blue, and I kicked into a swim stroke to head out to the breakers in an attempt to warm up… all the while, I was ignoring the intelligent little voice you get in your head when you turn 40 that was screaming, “Go BACK you idiot, Go BACK!” It wasn’t long before I was treading water in 6 feet of crystal clear ocean. You could look down and see the fish, the skates, rays, rocks, coral, and sand. It was beautiful... momentarily. For moments later, I wasn’t in 6 feet of water anymore, I was in 5, then 4 as my feet touched sand and rock. Three… What the? TWO! I turned in time to see a wave (the first in a new “set”) higher than my ceiling stretching over me. All of the water that was being sucked into the wave was rapidly disappearing below me and the force of it was enough to rip my ankles right out from underneath me. I became a small stone in a vast tumbling polisher that rolled me over and over, using the rocks and sand as a fine polishing grit before depositing me on the beach in a wet and shiny heap. Wow.
That intelligent little voice in my head was laughing at me. I had sand in all of the pockets of my swim trunks and in other “pockets” as well. I felt fortunate to have retained my trunks at all, yet all I could think was, “I can do better than that!” Besides, at this point it felt warmer in the water than it did on the beach. A quick consultation with Jesus, and I was back in the water. Two or three solid douche-tumbles later, I was getting the hang of it and eventually, I managed to sail “chest first” along the crest of the wave, all the way to the beach! The cost was high though, it took all of the effort and adrenaline I had (plus the loss of all my calouses and more than an acceptable amount of skin) just to make it back up the beach and into my hotel room. Lying here listening to the endless pounding of those waves… there has GOT to be a way to harness that energy for electricity or something. The power they bring to the beach is remarkable.
The Mafia My driver this week is an ancient Italian gentleman named Billi. I call him my “driver” but actually, he’s a cabbie. I generously over-tipped him once, and he gave me his card with his private mobile number on it. Now when I call, he comes to get me. We’ve had some great conversations about Florence, Rome, good food, etc. He has the same accent Tony Soprano’s grandfather would have had. Anyway, I noticed yesterday afternoon and this morning that he doesn’t use the meter anymore when he drives me around… we get where we’re going and he looks at me and says, “Thatta looksa like abouta fifteena dollares, no?” I say, “uh, yea, fifteen sounds fair. Twenty even!” Then more sheepishly, “can I have a receipt?” He laughs, “sure, sure… I getta you a receipt my friend… whatever you need, I getta for you! Maybe some day you do-a me a favor too, no?” He’s a very “interesting” character. Thank GOD he doesn’t have my mobile number, address, wife’s name, etc…
Blinded by Science I briefly saw the science center this afternoon. I have a kooky friend Dave who’s borderline obsessed with rocks. If you ever drive through Savage, MN and you see a short blond beatnik character in knee high rubber boots standing alone in the middle of a field staring down at the dirt… its Dave.
Word around town was, the science center sells interesting agates and other rocks unique to Australia so I thought I’d have a look. This is the best and most advanced children’s museum I’ve ever seen! Every morning, they use a bulldozer to bury a dinosaur (fiberglass “bones,” I’m sure) in a big dirt field. They give kids small picks and shovels and archeological brushes, etc, and send them out on a “dig!” They’re so cute with their little brows furrowed in complete concentration as they dig and clean their bones! They bring their finds back to the museum curators with all the seriousness of a genuine field scientist. I’m sure they go straight home to repeat the process in their back yards… which is why we don’t have kids… J Rain, Rocks, and Railroads
According to the news, last night’s storm caused a landslide of boulders and rocks onto the train tracks. I have no idea if the trains will be running in the morning which is “gitchy” because I have to come home tomorrow and the only other way through the mountains is via a sketchy bus service or on the back of a kangaroo. Maybe I could body surf? 9/6/2006 Way Down Under (Day 2)Pools of Death People eat dinner at a later hour here. Most restaurants don’t fill up until 8pm or so. I walked in to a nice seafood restaurant last night around 6:30 and was seated alone at a table outside in view of the ocean. I struck up a conversation with the waiter that went something like this: Me: Do you know when the tide goes back out? I’d like to have a look at those tidal pools down there. Him: CRIKEY Mate, some of the most POISONOUS and DEADLY animals in the WORLD are living in those pools! Me: No way. Him: Absolutely! Blue Ringed Octopus, Stonefish, Box Jellies, Lionfish, HUGE Moray eels and such… Me: Whoa. So you don’t recommend walking around and looking in after them? Him: No, I didn’t say that. Just be careful not to trip into the wrong one or anything. Beautiful. Let’s recap… There are creatures in tidal pools here that are smaller than the width of your thumbnail that can kill you in 3 minutes or less. There are creatures in the surf (Great White sharks, heart shredding sting rays, poisonous sea snakes, etc) that can kill you quicker than that and more violently, besides. Suddenly, the dark ocean seemed to smile and wink at me as I sat there with my basket of crackers. The tidal pools will still be there tomorrow when the sun is out and I can see where I’m walking… right? Polar Bears at 6:00! The next morning, I grabbed my camera and double checked the strap and its connectors before putting it around my neck (safety first from now on), and I headed out at 5:30 for a look around the tidal pools. After all, that blue ringed octopus from the James Bond movie “Octopussy” was one of the coolest animals I’ve ever seen. I made my way down the beach and discovered a local group of Polar Bear swimmers getting ready to take the plunge into the ocean! Several questions came to mind:
I approached and asked the sweetest 80 year old woman in the world some of these questions. The water was 56 degrees. That’s C_O_L_D, people! I think the water in the lap pool at the gym is 70. She was a delightful woman, intent on having some exercise before breakfast and I began to think that if I were her; perhaps a 30 second ride to heaven at the hands of an angry jelly-fish is a better way to “buy a harp” than rotting away in a retirement center, drooling prune juice all over my gown! Tomorrow, I swim!! What on earth… ? I sleep here at night with the windows open, listening to the ocean waves, etc. This morning at 5am, I awoke to a harsh, loud screaming noise! I would have sworn in court that it was a woman screaming! I sat straight up, and for a brief moment I actually considered calling the front desk to report the apparent abuse of a woman somewhere in Wollongong. But then I heard it again. And again. Over and over, with the exact same rhythm and cadence! It wasn’t a distressed woman, or screaming baby… it was a bird! Minah birds, Magpies, and wild ruby breasted parrots are all natives here and they can all mimic whatever sound they like. The locals tell me they hear them sounding car alarms and police sirens all the time. Thank God these birds weren’t around in Indonesia, can you imaging hearing the Muslim call to prayer 24 hours per day? Sucked In! The English language isn’t necessarily “English” here in Australia. Liquor stores are “bottle O’s” (spelled ‘Bottlo’) for example (sounds like a really cool breakfast cereal to me). Another example? Suppose you tell your child NOT to stick a penny into the electrical socket… suppose you tell him that 5 or 6 times and he does it anyway. Once the little tyke has recovered from being shot across the room, you’d tell him, “well then, you got a bit sucked in there didn’t you?” Here’s another one… suppose it’s a beautiful sunny 70 degree windless day and the fish are biting! You’re NOT sick, but you are going to call your boss and tell him that you are so you can take the boat out. That’s called, “Chucking a Sickie!” I’ll post more when I hear them. Steve Irwin RIP I suppose it’s just a coincidence that Steve Irwin was fatally struck by an angry Stingray mere minutes after my plane landed here in Sydney. We flew right over the Great Barrier Reef too, perhaps I should have looked out the window… hollered out a “lookout Steve!?” In any event, he was truly a national hero and will be sorely missed by the Aussies. His family was offered a state funeral. True to life though… he was just “sucked in!” 9/5/2006 WAY Down Under!Flight Hours and the truth about Business Class
17 hours in a plane... not everyone could do it, I guess. Its weird to sit and watch two complete movies, eat dinner, stand up, walk around, stretch; and realize that you are still more than THREE HOURS to the half way point of your flight! My friend Cordell has this advice: "Dude, you get your doctor to give you a perscription to Ambien, then if it says 'Do not drink alcohol while taking this medication,' just slam three for four beers and shot of whiskey or two before taking two of those pills! You'll sleep through EVERYTHING for 15 straight hours!" When I asked my doctor about that advice he told me, "That's pretty much true. You'll drool, fart, jerk around, and generally ooze lots of other foul body odors and fluids during the process too." When I mentioned this to Cordell he simply said, "So?" I went for the business class upgrade instead.
For those of you who are curious, the regular coach class fare to Australia is around $1,100 US. The upgrade to business class is (take a deep breath, or sit down if you're standing) $12,500 (yes, over twelve THOUSAND U.S. dollars). Why so high? Because businesses in the US pay it, of course. What do you get for that money? A slice of heaven. I had a Filet Mignon for dinner, medium rare with a hollandaise peppercorn sauce and grilled aparagus. The chocolate torte for dessert was awesome and the selection of Australian wines was top notch. Many movies were available along with a massage chair that reclined 180 degrees for comfortable sleeping. The lavatories had fragrant rose petals on a hot towel to freshen the atmosphere, and we all received slippers, ear plugs, a quality set of headphones, silken sleep masks, toothbrushes, hand lotion, and a box of mints. The fruit, snack, and sandwich buffet was endless I'll bet if I asked the flight attendant to read me a story, he wouldn't have hesitated.
I digress... this is about my latest destination: Wollongong Australia!!
Wollongonged
I left San Francisco at 10pm on a Friday night. The plane touched down in Sydney at 7am on Monday morning (I have no idea what happened to Sunday, nor do I have any memory of it whatsoever... If you're ever in court and they ask you about your whereabouts, just say, "I was flying to Australia that day" and I'm sure they'll understand). I picked up my bags and went straight to the train station where I bought a ticket for Wollongong. 96 minutes later, I'd arrived!
Wollangong is beautiful! Their motto is "Wollongong, city of diversity!" I'm not making that up. Their real motto should be, "Oh, you can get/do/find that in Sydney!" Everything I've asked to see or buy is met with that phrase, "Oh, they have those in Sydney!" or "Gee, will you be going to Sydney any time soon?" The city itself is sort of a Twilight Zone episode for me. If you've ever been to Venice Beach, CA; you've been to Wollongong... sort of. Wollongong and Venice cities look very very much alike. If you went to Venice Beach and moved all of the steering wheels in the cars to the other side and switched the roads around, then replaced all the palms with eucalyptus trees (by the way, I learned that eucalyptus trees give off some weird gas that's highly explosive. They're known to spontaneously explode when the weather and other conditions are right! They're pretty though, and Koala bears love them... so Lisa will want some for the yard when I get home), you'd have the same salt corroded, mildly wind eroded, average filthy town of Wollongong. They mine coal here and mill steel too so it has a bit of Pittsburgh suburb thrown in for good measure.
One thing Wollangong has that no place anywhere NEAR the U.S. has however, is a pristine beach! I've never seen water so clear! The tidal pools are three to six feet deep (some of them) and yet you can count the spines on the urchins on the bottom! With sand like sugar and cliffs and rocks and tidal pools all along the beach as far as you can see, these beaches have to be among the most beautiful in the world.
Old Age and Coordination
Speaking of tidal pools... You may notice a lack of pictures in these Australian posts. Well, there's a good reason. The short version is, I dropped my digital camera into a tidal pool. I could make up a story about a swooping magpie that would have killed me had my cat-like reflexes not intervened, but the simple truth is... I carried and used this same digital camera from the breweries in Wisconsing to the Volcanos of Indonesia, only to drop it into the first Australian tidal pool I could find. Splooch. Done. I've blow-dried it, disassembled it, yelled at it... its over. Saltwater and highly sensitive and calibrated electronics just don't mix, I suppose. The shame of it is, I had pictures of my friend Jamie and I "manning it up" on an OCC chopper from the "American Chopper" TV show in that camera. Gone. Don't hassle me about it, I've beat myself up enough. Fortunately, I brought along my Canon EOS Rebel analog camera as a backup and I'm paying $10 per roll of film to make up for it. Pictures WILL come to this thread eventually.
Wallabies and Roos
I walked for about an hour through Wollongong's botanical gardens today. You should see the pictures! (I know... I know...) My host was walking me through the garden and we started to compare "garden pests" in Australia vs. the USA. I told her of our rabbits and possums; she told me of vexing Wallabies and Kangaroos. Sorry, if I found a Wallaby in my garden, I'd have to encourage it to stay! They're so darned cute! Roos are cute too, but they get bigger and surley. When a 6 foot kangaroo decides he likes your garden, its HIS garden moving forward. They're not as skittish as a white dailed deer. Whereas a white tailed deer would hear the screen door of your back porch open and RUN, a male roo would here the noise, become annoyed by it, hop on over, and kick you square in the mouth when you walked outside!
Mighty Vegemite!
I KNOW WHAT VEGEMITE IS! You know what I'm talking about... we've all heard the song, "She just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich!" As a homebrewer, I'm familiar with the sticky "leavings" that form at the bottom of a yeast spent fermentation tank... When home made beer ferments, the ingredients inside the tank include: yeast, hops, water, barley malt, and grain. Reading from a tube of Vegemite I see: "Yeast Extract, Barley Malt, Grain Extracts, Mineral Salt" So... vegemite is simply all of the CRAP you don't want left in your beer (with some black food coloring added for good measure)! Its like a spoiled rotten malt flavored power-bar. Its great on toast...
Spring is HERE!
Its true, they are four days into springtime and its just as beautiful as it could be. The botanical gardens were awesome and the beach is spectacular. Whales make an appearance every now and again, and a pod of dolphins comes by fairly regularly. It is 68 degrees so I'm off for my daily beach walk.
NOTES:
2/17/2006 Mama-san, I'm coming home! (Day 6)Going UP!
The elevators here are smarter than some people I
know. Let's pretend you're in the lobby and you want to go up to your
room. In America, you push the "UP" button, then you do the "elevator
shuffle dance" as you try to guess which doors in the bank will "ding"
and offer you a ride. The bank of elevators at the airport in
Minneapolis actually has 12 cars in it and you could honestly miss your
chance if you're too far away when your elevator comes. Here's the best
part, the very milisecond that you touch the "UP" button, the elevator
system knows exactly which car it will send for you. In the U.S. they
choose to withold that information from you for some conspiratorial
reason. In Japan, the elevator that has been chosen for you signals the
door to "ding" as if to say, "I'm coming!" When its close, the light
starts blinking so you know to move away and to give some room for the
people inside to disembark. (In Japan, you see; people don't attempt to
shove their way onto an elevator before you have a chance to get off).
Another elevator treat is the >|< button. You
know the "bowtie" looking button that's supposed to close the doors?
Well here, it actually CLOSES the doors! This is nice, but it means
that if you're standing next to the buttons, you have a job! When the
car stops, YOU hold the <> button to let people get on/off, then
you press the >|< button to close the doors. People actually try
to out bow one another for this duty of honor.
Chopsticks
I like chopsticks. If I was pretty good with them
before I got here, then I'm a bonified expert now. There are some
things that still cry out for a fork though, and I can't figure out why
they don't just give up and use one. Take rice, for example. A
traditional Japanese breakfast comes with a dish of rice porridge.
There's no way on this planet anyone could eat it with chopsticks. Its
like Cream of Wheat or Malt-o-meal. Good luck with that! Their
solution? Serve it with strips of dried seaweed, of course! You place
the strip on a mound of porridge, and you use your chopsticks to pinch
the edges of the seaweed together to make a "saddle" around some rice.
I say this with love, "CAN WE GET A DAMN FORK IN HERE??"
More Walking Around
I took the escalator back to the hotel for the
first time. My rationale was that it was snowing and any one of the 112
steps could have meant my death! No, the snow wasn't actually sticking
to the ground, but it might have at any moment and then where would I
be? Anyway, I'm glad I walked the extra block to take the easy way up.
There's a car dealership at that end of the block that sells exotic
cars. I've see pictures before, but until you stand next to one of
these machines, you really have idea what 1,000 horsepower is all about.
People are so polite here that simply crossing the
street can be an adventure. "After you!" "No, after you..." "I insist,
after you" and so it goes. In the end, whoever bows lowest earns the
right to stay at the curb for an extra couple of seconds.
The notion of "personal space" is completely
foreign to the Japanese. My friend Bob would HATE that part of Japanese
culture. There's nothing like standing shoulder to shoulder with
another person in an otherwise un-occupied elevator, or having someone
mount the escalator on the step immediately behind you when the two of
you are the only ones going up. I'm sure its from years of training on
the subway... you're so close to people there that you feel what's in
each other's pockets!
Work Hard, Play Hard
It has been a LONG week! The Japanese business day
lasts from 8 to 15 hours, depending on what needs to be accomplished.
Women almost exclusively stay home and somehow by the grace of God,
they "understand" when their husbands call night after night to explain
that "they'll be out drinking copious amounts of alcohol with another
customer." Again. Well, after a week of this aberrant behavior
(aberrant by American business standards) they blow off some steam.
Like a long week of eating and drinking with customers should be
"celebrated" with even more food and drink? Maybe I'm showing my age,
but it seems to me that best way to top off an 80 hour work week is
with a NAP!
Last night (Friday) a nap was not an option. My
American co-worker friend Matt and I were taken to a restaurant called
"The Dark Ninja." It was very mysterious. It was built to look like the
inside of a cave. Sorry, not "cave," but "secret Ninja underground
training place!" It was complete with dangerous bridge crossings,
Ninjas that jump out at you from behind invisible doors, and even a
Ninja or two that did magic tricks at your table! Yes, magic tricks.
"Ninja Three, Power of... Mathematics!"
The pictures tell the story, it was another long
night. Matt and I decided that if we lived here, we'd probably dead in
less than 6 months. After lots of Sushi, Sake, and other liquid
refreshment, we all decided we were Ninjas too! Matt was "NINJA 1!" I
was "NINJA 2" and so forth. We each had special Ninja powers and secret
hand signals, and so forth and together, we made up the "Ninja
Rangers!" If there was ever an endless entertaining scene that you
"just had to be there" to see the humor in, that was definately it.
Notes:
Lisa, congratulations on earning the "Sales Engineer of the Year" award (again). I love you for a million reasons!
Dave, I'm coming home so you better start screening your calls again.
Stacy, I hope you get out of Canada soon.
Marsha, thanks again for the kick in the butt.
Pictures:
Bingo - Lamborghini... fast car.
Cars for Sale - Ferrari... faster car.
McLaren -
Fastest street legal car produced anywhere in the world. $300,000
dollars and its yours. It only seets one person though (1, in the
middle) and it can NOT fly over traffic. The trailer hitch is extra, I
asked.
Working Man's Bento Box - styrofoam, compartmentalized, and quite delicous
Dessert Frog - He was made of cheesecake, so we ate him.
Do what the lady says - I am still astonished at the veracity with which the Japanese consume alcohol.
Egg of life
- I have no idea how, but someone managed to stuff a bunch of meat,
potatoes, and veggetables into this egg. Yes, that's dry ice... added
for the full effect.
Five Ninjas - The working crew
HOT wings - they weren't as hot as they look, but the smell sure smacked you in the face when they hit the table!
Our tiny hostess - Matt's hand isn't as big as you might think from this picture, she's just very small!
Nice sushi - It never stops coming until you beg them to stop.
On the Rock - One ice cube... its as big as a tennis ball!
Worse and worse - The night was long. Very long... 2/16/2006 Food and the Little Things (Day 5)The Little Things
I am ceaselessly amazed at the tireless attention
these great people have to detail. The hood over the toilet paper has a
serrated edge, for instance! After all, you wouldn't want to waste 1/2"
of a perforated square if you didn't need it... There's a small fence
that I walk by every morning at the base of the shrine. It's made of an
endless series of vertical posts and a chain that's looped through the
top of each post. I remember once as a kid, my mom took me to the zoo
and they had one of these to suggest to people that they shouldn't come
too close to some of the exhibits. She would get so mad at me because
I'd sit on the chain and pull the slack so that a person sitting on the
chain 20 yards down the line would feel a "YANK" as the chain tightened
up! Well that's not a problem here because there is a tiny padlock on
every single post that keeps the chain from slipping through. There
must have been several hundred of them that wound around the sidewalk.
Does someone have a key to all of them? It wouldn't surprise me. He's
probably the city's "universal amount of slack in the chain" inspector.
Honestly!
For breakfast yesterday, I was fortunate to find an American coffee shop! The relentless pursuit of perfection and the sweating of details persisted here as well. I ordered pancakes. When they came, they were PERFECT. Eerily perfect! Every one was EXACTLY like the other, perfectly round, uniform in color, and every one of them was the exact same size/diameter. If you'd stacked enough of them, they'd have been as perfect and as solid as a role of quarters! I walked over to the coffee counter and watched the man make pancakes. He was in the zone! Pouring batter, executing perfect timing, the man cooked pancakes like he was building a swiss watch!! I almost freaked out, right there... rushing over the counter, screaming "NOOOOOoooo!," grabbing his spatula and going off on the pancakes, "this one will be slightly LARGER, what do you think of THAT?! And this one will be... an OVAL!! BWUAHAHAHA!" Alas, I just went to work. More little things? How about sugar syrup in little
coffee creamers for your iced tea instead of sugar? How long will it
take Americans to figure out that regular granular sugar doesn't
dissolve in cold liquids? Vending machines have cell numbers on them so
you can "call yourself a beverage." Escalators move BOTH ways,
depending on the flow of pedestrian traffic. OH, that reminds me. The
112 steps I've been taking every morning and every afternoon? Yea,
well, there's a staged escalator around the side of the shrine that I
found yesterday. *sigh* Oh well. God knows I need the exercise.
The Simple Business Card The business card is the soul of the Japanese businessman. There's a very definite ritual when it comes to their exchange... When you present one, you grasp it with both hands in the corners and you bow and present the card so the recipient can read it. When you bow, you say, "My name is Kenneth Walker, please call me Ken. I am a Technical Trainer for Stellent." The recipient will receive the card with two hands and bow, then he will take a moment to read the card and say something positive like, "It is nice to have an honored teacher's business card in my collection." Then you repeat the entire procedure. Perhaps the most important thing is what you do with the card after you receive it. It should be placed in a position of honor among your other cards in that leather card portfolio you carry around. Whatever you do, don't just cram it into your back pocket!! Business cards have taken a quantum leap in
technology here. I received one yesterday that is made of stainless
steel! SO COOL! I also received my first digital business card. Its the
standard shape of a regular card for the most part, but the corner is
squared off and it plugs into a cell phone's data port (ALL Japanese
cell phones have standard data ports, of course). When you plug the
card into your phone, it registers itself as a contact and it even
connects to your e-mail at your office computer and registers itself
there too. How cool is that?
More Culinary Adventures
These next two paragraphs are not for the squeamish. If weird food stories give you the willies, you might want to skip them. You know, the human body is a pretty incredible thing! On one hand, the juices in our stomachs can digest just about anything, yet it only takes a single cell of botulism to bring us close to death. I've eaten a lot of weird things in my life... The Spam my father used to fry for our breakfast still gives me the heeby-jeebies. I enjoy food, I enjoy cooking it, eating it, shopping for it, and watching it on TV. I have very fond memories of the days I used to work for a catering company and I still groove on having people over for smoked brisket or fried turkeys. I crossed a line yesterday. I ate some stuff that,
well, let's just say that I think I'm done "experimenting" with new
cultural cuisine. We had lunch at a Japanese bbq joint. There was a pit
in the center of a beautiful cherry wood table with charcoal burning in
it and a grate that was flush with the table surface. We were brought
trays of meat and vegetables and sauces, and the idea is that you cook
what looks good to you. The game we played was, our host would pay for
the meal, but we would "eat first" and he would tell us later what
everything was. Everything looked fairly harmless (no fish eyeballs or
anything) so my friend Matt and I agreed to eat and play along. First
course? It was pink and thinly sliced and we grilled this one. I dipped
it in lemon sauce and ate mine after it was cooked. It was weird, I
REALLY liked it. At the same time though, I'd never tried this kind of
beef in my life, but I knew instantly it was tongue! Shin-san asked,
"how did you know?" I said, "I've bit my tongue before and it had the
exact same texture!" I know its creepy, but its exactly what happened.
The next small disk of meat was tender, delcious, and it turned out it
came from the cow's diaphragm... if I never have it again, I'll still
be OK.
Next, he produced a small bowl of chopped raw meat
(sashimi style) with a perfect raw egg yolk perched on the top. Our
host Shiin-san promptly mixed the raw yolk and meat together with his
chopsticks, then spread it on some lettuce, fajita style, and ate. I
asked, "what kills you first, the bird flu or the mad cow?" He laughed
and said, "don't worry, not beef." Matt said, "I will if you will"
(remind me to kill him when we return to the states) so, we tried it,
in very small bites. Then Shin-san told me it was "Umba," a Japanese
delicacy. Don't look it up, I'm embarrassed to tell you that Umba means
"horse." I might just become a vegetarian after all. Holy crap, did
that ever weird me out. I don't know why, I don't have any special love
for horses but still...
Silence is Golden
Silence is a valued commodity. Whether you're a parent of 5 or you're just striving to get some quality work done, its a reveared thing that we often take for granted. I've decided that people pay for it, whether they realize it or not. Business Class is an expensive venture on an airplane, for example, but the thing I value the most up there, above the food, the service, etc, is the silence. The Japanese understand this. I finally put my
finger on the thing that was bugging me all week, despite the hundreds
of millions of people here, its strangely quiet! The subway? quiet.
Restaurants? quiet. There are little "no cell phone" signs on the
tables of restaurants and other public places and people totally
respect that. Its funny, Americans can't wait to download the most
obnoxious ring tone they can find, and every Japanese has their phone
on "vibrate" and tucked away in a pocket somewhere. They even have
multiple levels of vibrate so you don't have to hear the loud "buzzing"
noise! If they get a call, they turn their head and sheild thier
conversation with their hand. Calls never last more than 2 minutes. I'm
going to require a period of adjustment to the loud life again when I
get home, I think.
Japanese Engligh (revisited)
One last funny story... One of my customers from Fujitsu yesteray almost had me laughing so hard that I thought we might need a defibrillator! He's asked me a question and I was giving him an answer. During our discourse, we were talking about a simulated circumstance. He said, "You know how peop-o come to check the e-mair and they have the Bra Bra Brah..." For a split second, I thought, "what did you just say?" Then it hit me, he was trying to use the American phrase, "blah blah blah" and not only did he prefice it with a declaritive (THE Bra Bra Brah?), but the "bra" instead of "blah" just had me in stitches. I kept it together, I thought, "this man is trying his best to communicate with you, do NOT laugh at him, no, no, no, NO!" I was turning red and "bouncing" a little, the way my favorite piano player at church does when we get her giggling during a service... Finally, I visualized my wife kicking me under the table and grabbing my thigh the way she does (its a violent grab, not the "love squeeze" you might be picturing). I raised my eyebrows, ground my teeth together and tried to answer his question while at the same time trying NOT picture him sitting there, wearing a bra! Notes: All - I would NOT have eaten it, had I known what it was.
Donna - I'm sorry, the blog is winning
Karen VW - I figured out the karaoke business model. Talk to me later
Marsha - thanks for the push
Lisa - I'm coming HOME tomorrow!
Pictures: Love a ball is, the way that a ball! Some of the best Japanese English I've found lately.
Guardian
- This big lion-dude still guards the entrance to the shrine
(background with all the red flags). They've installed streets, lights,
skyscrapers, and coke machines since then, but he's still around!
Worshippers - Wedding, or just a morning revival? You tell me...
Our office lobby here in Tokyo - Obviously, they enjoy the "minimalist" approach. Back to Reality (Day 4)Olympic Fever
I have the fever. The coverage of the Olympic Games here is just unbelievable. First of all, there are no ridiculous tear jerking back-stories about every American athlete and his/her former addiction to pain killers, soap operas, or their struggle to "be the best." Also, there are no commercials. These two reasons alone are worth flying out here every two years to witness the Olympics totally unfettered and in High Definition. Also, and this is the best part, they show EVERY SINGLE athlete! I am now aware that NBC picks 5-7 athletes to show/cover based on these criteria:
I used to labor under the delusion that if a perfect score in an Olympic event were "50" for example, all olympians would score 49.985 +/- half a point. They wouldn't be "olympians" otherwise, right? Oh, SO deliciously WRONG! You don't know how good a 49.985 is until you've seen a South Korean snow boarder to a total face plant on the edge of the half-pipe and get an 11. Yes, eleven points. How on earth can a bobsled driver finish 10 whole seconds behind first place? Banging into the walls like a drunken sailor, that's how! I give 'em all 1,000 points for the effort and its endlessly entertaining.
Japanese Darth Vader
On the flight over here I made an observation. I firmly believe that the ration of words in a translated phrase from English to Japanese is roughly 7:1. The flight attendant would come on and say, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the seat belt sign is on. Please return to your seat and fashion your safety belt." 10 seconds. The Japanese attendant would follow with a translation that took every bit of 94 seconds. Based on the Japanese I've learned so far, translated into English it probably goes something like, "Most honored and prestigous flying guests. We're so very happy to have your favor and honored presence to fly our happy airline. It is most unfortunate however that some of the air outside of this aircraft has angered the gods most fiercly and we must be prepared for spiritual battle to obtain the balance and zen we strive for in our lives every day. We would be most grateful and humbled if you would become one with your place to seating and have union with the chair once again. When you have obtained balance and happiness in your place to sit, please to safely wrap yourself in our special belts of safety to obtain harmony and safety with your person. Thank you, thank you, again, thank you so very much, thank you."
In the courtyard outside the office building today, I watched the trailor to the Star Wars movie in Japanese. It was hilarious. The same translation ratio was so very evident, my sides were splitting. Picture Darth Vader saying something only Vader would say like, "Leave that to ME!" Well, roughly translated, it would take the average citizen here about two minutes to say that in Japanese (based purely on my own observations, you understand). Well, the problem is... Darth only appears on the screen for three seconds before he points his finger and walks away, right? To fit all of the Japanes into the time space, the poor voice-over guy is talking so fast, he must have passed out after the scene:
"don'ttroubleyourmeagerselveswiththistrivialtask
Iwillacceptthechallengeandhonormysuperiorsby
accomplishingthiswithMYownmightyandnobleeffort!"
More Work
While I appreciate the suggestions some of you have sent me via e-mail, I just don't have the time to see and do all of the things I'd like to. Marsha, I'm sure Tokyo Disney is completely awesome, but there's no way in the world I'd be able to spend more than 15 minutes there. The life of a trainer is an odd one. I think the advantages far outweigh the disadvantes, but there are things to consider on both sides of this travel equation. Trainers rarely ever come a day early and stay a day late unless they use their own vacation time and well, we're just too busy to do a lot of that right now. The most frustrating thing for me as a working traveller is that most of the really cool stuff closes at 5pm every day (like the Smithsonian Institute for example) and guess what? I work during the day. In most cases, the one consistent thing that *IS* open after five is the "restaurant/bar." This is also why most trainers gain weight or work extremely hard not to. I'm always open for a hockey game in New York, or a minor league baseball game if you get lucky and a night game is scheduled while you're there. Even still, if you go to a game you'll probably still drink beer and eat peanuts. I'm making an effort to see as much (and write as much) as I can. My flight home on Saturday doesn't leave until 3:40. My bus to the airport leaves at noon. I know a guy who's going to try to get me to the Tokyo fish market EARLY Saturday morning to watch the Tuna boats come in and offload. Maybe I'm weird, but that kind of local color appeals to me in a huge way. Here's hoping I can make it!
Notes:
Mark and Dave: I know we pledged to go veggie next time, but I'm having some pretty serious BEEF withdrawl here... I'm gonna need some cow.
Karen VW: I made it to the Yen store today. Absolutely hilarous. Everything in the universe for a dollar, what a hoot.
Karen W: Your travels are much more important than mine, keep the bright side open.
Lisa: I would bring you a Shogun sword, I swear... but they won't let me bring it on the plane. OH, and I discovered everything you want to know about Takeshi's Castle (MXC)!
Goose and Paul: I'm hoping and praying for you guys, I swear. I've been there and I know the depression. It'll work out... Pictures:
City Spider – The best part about this sculpture was the plaque at the bottom that read, “Do not climb the Spider.” I want one of these so bad… it’s sad that my wife would melt it down. Probably with her anger… she hates spiders with a passion that’s not quite healthy.
Zen Garden – Last in a series of Zen Garden pictures. Nice place.
Pro Tree Dudes - The ever diligent tree-trimmers of downtown Tokyo. Go guys, go!
Trees and some Tokyo – Samples of the trimmers’ work and the skyline
Shogun Warrior - I almost think that a pair of boxer shorts would make a better uniform... you'd defeat your enemies because their "armour" would slow them down so much.
Shrine Entrance - I walk through this Shrine every morning on my way to work and every night coming home. I love the place. I stop at a granite filtered water fountain to have a drink and to say a small prayer to start the day after climbing the 114 stairs (I counted today). There was a wedding or something there early this morning, pictures to follow tomorrow.
Shogun Knife - Note that the base of the knife is hardened cast iron (you can see the rivet holes from where it was originally mounted to the handle 1,000 years ago) but the blade is still razor/scalpel sharp. I need one of these to slice brisket.
Water Fountain - I mentioned this, its just beautiful here in the morning.
One Bad Dude - I laugh myself silly every time I look at this.
View from Fujitsu Boardroom - I guess its good to be the king. Not THAT Honored... (Day 3)Most Honored Teacher
Last night was one of the most interesting nights of my life. I'm a technical trainer, I've done it for the better part of 15 years now and classes come and go for me at this point, precious few of them "stand out." Yesterday... will stand out forever. It started with classroom introductions, I asked them to tell everyone their name, who they work for, their current level of experience with our product, and as an ice breaker, I asked them to describe their favorite Winter Olympic event. This part of the class usually takes 10 minutes or so and serves to break the ice and settle everyone down. It rarely goes off with the military precision that it did yesterday:
<stands up> "HAI MY NAME IS HIRIYUKI YOSHIKO CALL ME YOSHIKO-SAN I WORK WITH STELLENT PARTNER HITACHI I KNOW PRODUCT FOR 2 WEEKS I LIKE SKI JUMP. HAI, ORIGATO." <bows, sits down>
Well, thank you Yoshiko-San for that most enthusiastic and militaristic report... little did I know that style would be repeated by all 17 of the students. Teachers are honored and respected in Japan, the urge to play the "Hokie Pokie" was overwhelming because there is no doubt in my mind that they would have done it, and that they would have done it perfectly.
The teaching portion of the day was good. One of the classes I teach deals with Sarbanes Oxley, an insomnia curing topic that deals with a corporations financial dealings and recordings. Most people are afraid to go to a SOX class, precious few are willing to learn the stuff well enough to teach it, but there's a benefit... Your students are almost always top executives and the classrooms are always in swanky board rooms with catered lunches, etc, and this was no exception. The view from the Fujitsu boardroom speaks for itself. Class went surprisingly well, considering some technical issues we had and by 6:30, I was ready to go back to my room and sleep off the rest of the jet lag.
And then...
Brian Endo, one of our executives here in Japan, announced that we would have a special dinner to honor our friends from America. Gregg and myself from Stellent, and a smooth cat from Texas who works for our partner, Protivity (I had him in a class 6 months ago, it was great to see a friendly face) were to be honored. We walked into the steamy, neon ridden, cobblestone junketed part of town that I'm sure very few Americans get to see. Brian had pre-arranged everything and the table, our meals, drinks, etc were all "pre-paid" and the sky was the limit. Smoked squid, octopus tentacles, fish heads of all sizes and varieties, sushi, shrimp, fish balls with the bones still in, yummy. We also learned very quickly that the Japanese take their alcohol very seriously. People work hard to make it so, we should endeavor to drink it. All of it. Every night, if possible. I gotta hand it to them, they work hard and play hard and last night was no exception. Plates of food never seemed to stop coming and neither did the booze, rice vodka, Saki, Beer... it was "off the hook" so to speak. Another dangerous Japanese tradition I learned was that you never pour anything for yourself. You pour for each other and it is very rude to decline. Personally, this meant that I tried to keep my glasses full whenever possible. There was no shortage of alcohol or people to pour it and if your glass ever got 1/2 empty... someone would graciously bow and top it up for you. Thanks, really. wow. We sat there and ate and drank and told stories and talked shop (we really did some work, actually) for three hours. Near the end, a LARGE fish head was served (the smell arrived before it did) and our host said that our most honored guest was to receive the fish eye. Things got quiet and it was pretty obvious that he wasn't just playing around this time like he's prone to do. Everyone bowed and the fish head was passed... TO ME! Stop it. Seriously, I am NOT honored enough for fish eyes, YOU take them home and give them to your kids. I looked up and a dozen men were looking at me expectantly and it was apparent that I would need to eat it or it would be the equivalent of a "slap in the face." Thank God for Sake... I dug in, and plucked out the eyeball with my chopsticks. It was an orb that was 1/2 the size of a golf ball. I bowed, said a prayer, and rolled it into my mouth. I told my wife that it was like eating a superball that was surrounded by a membranous ball of fish flavored gravy-jello. Cheers went up all around and I swallowed it with a snoot-full of Sake. <SHIVER> We were gathering our things to leave shortly thereafter when the lightning struck...
"Time to go to Plan B," said our host. I thought, "you've got to be kidding me. My suit and tie are wearing heavily on me at this point, my back hurts from kneeling at the table in my socks for three hours and I haven't slept for about 20 hours. What the hell is Plan B?" "Plan B is secret place, membership only." He said. Two things were obvious now, one, we were in for some sort of rarified adventure, and two was that we were going. Period, we were well beyond negotiation at this point and when your boss's boss's boss says, "Well, let's go" then you go. I mentioned to him on the way out, "Gregg, Dallas and I should really prepare for Fujitsu tomorrow, you remember Fujitsu? Most honored CUSTOMER with all the money? Gregg... Hello..." He was awesome. He said, "Don't worry, I'll get you out of this." Then Brian turned to us all and said, "Let's go, trust me!" We had no choice as we walked past the smoke filled Pachinko Casinos and deeper into the Tokyo night.
Karaoke… Why?
We walked up a narrow staircase to a very small room. I was sure we were to be robbed, butchered, and dumped into the sea where the endless recycling of fish would continue. Rather, we were seated in a very small, very dark, very smokey room where more beer and Saki appeared along with a catalog 4" thick and a microphone. No. No way. Karaoke time... The Japanese take their karaoke very seriously. Probably more seriously than their families, careers, whatever. I have never, nor will I ever see anything like it again. Now, I can sing. I'm not the next American Idol, but I've "sung my share" so to speak, however I did not whisper a WORD of this to anyone present. I sat back and took it all in as a dozen men in suits sat around a small coffee table, crammed knee to knee in a space about 6 feet square, and sang to each other as Japanese videos scrolled across the Plasma and as our Kimono clad hostess danced and sang along. I reached under the table to grap Dallas's leg, we looked at each other and he could see it my eyes, "WE MUST LEAVE THIS PLACE NOW!" I told him with psychic aplomb... I widened my eyes and cocked my head a little to add emphasis, "RIGHT?!?!" He was laughing himself sick. I have no idea what the songs were that they picked. Japanese love songs, filled with tears and emotion, split the night. They all took turns the microphone crept closer to my end of the table. "I can't sing, really, you guys are SO GOOD, its amazing, lets hear some more!" I lied. Gregg finally got us out of there and we walked back to the hotel by 11pm or so. It wasn't that late, I suppose, but I'd been up for 24 hours and I felt shredded. Somehow, I woke up this morning at the usual 4am and here I am writing this log. I have no idea what's in store today.
Pictures: Beers, Weird Snacks, and the Microphone Time in a Bottle (Day 2)The Japanese Business Day
The day started with breakfast. Actually, the day started with three of us sitting around and talking, NEAR breakfast. You see, I spent a lot of time in the courtyard yesterday (its FULL of Zen) eating a bento box, drinking diet coke, and watching Japanese people do their thing. They do some strange things. There's a restaurant in the same courtyard that has a buffet (more on that later) for instance. Americans can't wait for the buffet! Who among us has walked into a place for lunch or breakfast and waited to get up to go to the buffet? Heck, I don't even sit down! "Is that my table over there? Great, I'll be over here by the buffet." Japanese people are far too civilized for that. They move at a more leisurely pace... determined, but leisurely. Time and time again, I witnessed people walking into the restaurant, sitting down, and having a conversation. I wanted to scream at them, "Good Lord people, there's a perfectly good buffet right over there; GO GO GO!" But they would sit, talk, drink tea, and eventually, they would stroll over to the food. The same was true with breakfast. It was doubly stressful for me because I was trying to assimilate into TWO cultures, the Japanese and the Executive. As it happened, Mr. Walden (our CFO) and I shared the plane, the car service, and now breakfast with Mr. Endo, our Japanese contact (who is both, Japanese AND an Executive), thank goodness I brought suits and ties. Truth be told, I just wanted to fly through the buffet, start my day at 7:30am, configure my PCs, setup the classroom, and get the heck out there by 4, in time to watch the Olympics and staying well under the Executive radar. Not today. Here's what I learned:
Buffets and Bento Boxes Honestly, people here are so polite. Every meal I have with a local citizen, they're very careful to ask me, "What do you like?" The irony behind this question is, even if I had a preference (I'll eat just about anything but a fried Brussels sprout), I'd have no idea what to tell them. Most of the things I've eaten since I've been here are completely new to me. For $100, I couldn't even tell you if most of them were animal or vegetable, even after I ate them! So... how do you tell someone, "Lunch? Oh, I loved those little purple circles they serve with those long white noodles; those WERE noodles, right? And some of those green squares with the yellow dots on them, those were pretty good." Its hilarious. The bento box is an excellent example of this. When I was a little kid, my grampa used to let me hold his tool tray as he filled it up with the nuts and bolts and tools he was about to use to fix something around the house. It was as wide as a modern keyboard, but square, and it had raised edges so the little parts wouldn’t roll off onto the floor. It had little sections in it so you could keep small parts separated. That's a bento box, only the Japanese put food in it instead of metal bits and tools (I'm "mostly" sure of this, anyway). They're kind of fun, actually. From what I've seen, no two boxes are the same... and when they're served, they very closely resemble the same thing a modern 3 year old would "cook up" out of 6 colors of play dough and some molds from FAO Schwartz. The Japanese take great care to beautify the presentation of almost everything they eat, I just wish they would label it so I'd know: A) What I'm eating, and B) How to order it again someday if I like it! I KNOW I'll be the one asking tomorrow, "Uh, yesterday you had these little pink rice ball looking things with a leaf under it... were those Kosher?"
Notes:
Picture Legend: Toaster – I’m sure you could plug this car in and toast a bagel. There’s no doubt in my mind. Castle Wall – Tall. Ain’t she? Enemy Army – Trees that represent the retreating enemy army Japanese Army – Trees that represent the Japanese army Entry to the Moat – from outside, looking in Moat Burm and Castle Wall – What you’re facing if you decide to conquer the castle Money Stone – Proof positive that the meek will NOT inherit the earth! I left the description plate in the picture. My Diet coke and the outer castle door – I put my diet coke on the hinge pin to give it some scale. The door was HUGE. Police Riot Vehicle – What a great vehicle for a suicide bomber… he’d “fulfill his mission” but no damage would leave the truck! I have no idea what kind of riots they deal with here, but I’m not gonna stick around to find out. TOKYO - Alrighty Then... (Day 1)I made it!
After a 14 hour plane ride, there’s nothing like a 2 hour ride in a car service limo (you know me well enough by now to recognize the sarcasm, don’t you?). The trip itself has been great so far. Our company has a new policy that allows travelers to the Pacific Rim to take a 2,000 dollar "bribe" to fly coach. Its a good policy, especially when you consider the price difference between coach and business class can be up in the 7,000 dollar range! I spent at least two days thinking about it and I finally decided to waive the bribe and take the upgrade. I chose wisely! Five minutes after taking off, they announced that they were having some problems with the coach class entertainment system. The overhead lights, and inputs for the sound system were not working. That meant that those poor folks in coach had to fly with no reading lights, no stereo, and/or no sound for any movies that would be played. They were compensated 1,500 frequent flier miles for the trouble. Big Whoop! I felt sorry for them, I really did... it didn't stop me from eating my Shrimp Scampi, though.
I dind't check any bags so I was the first one out and off the plane and the car service was early too so I thought, "wow, record time! I might have a chance to walk around before bedtime." not. I knew the Narita airport was quite a way away from Tokyo, but I had no idea where my hotel was so I hoped it wouldn't be too far. It was. I discovered later that there's a bullet train that travels 140mph and gets here in about 40 minutes, but our car wasn't quite up to the same task. It was a nice car, don't get me wrong... the problem was that our car shared the road with approximately 2 MILLION other cars that were all bound for Tokyo. That might be an exaggeration, I might be off by 8 or 9 cars.
The Hotel
I checked into the hotel and got my room key. Wow. The key is just; well... its enormous... and a little; well, obsene. Its six inches long, solid steel, and it has a big round knob on the end. Its heavier and more cumbersome than the gas station restroom keys we've all seen in the states. It weighs at least two pounds and there is no way I am going to carry it around in my pocket, it would look obsene!
"Wow Ken, nice round bulge in your pocket there... "
"Aww, shucks; its just my room key, honest."
The room is top notch, I have a leather vibrating recliner, and a bed and pillows that are 100% memory foam. The bed only sits 18" off of the floor; another reminder that I'm "bigger" than the average Japanese citizen.
The shower surprised me. Holy cow. Every three minutes, the water pressure increases and the temperature DEcreases to give you "gentle" reminder that they'd rather not have you showering "all day." Water is precious here, you know. Oh, how I wish someone had told me. I like my morning showers. They wake me up, the steam clears my head, I like the smells of the soap and shampoo... not anymore. Now, I'm a little scared actually. Picture yourself two or three minutes into a nice hot shower when all of a sudden, you get a pressurized blast of cold water; "DOUUUCHE! YeeeYYAAHHHHHWWW!!" My left brain went for the controls ("Change the temp, turn it off, point it away..."), my right brain was trying to flee ("GET OUT, grab a towel..."). Tomorrow, I might take a bath. It will take longer, but at least it will be predictable.
The toilet in this room deserves its own paragraph. No, I'm not a "toilet afficienado" or anything, but after my hellish toilet experience in Bandung, Indonesia, I simply had to share the delightful and heavenly experience of the toilets here in Japan. The first thing you notice is that its plugged into an electrical outlet. As disconcerting as this was, I soldiered on and expected "good things." When you sit down, you hear beeping and a light starts blinking on the control panel (yes, there's a control panel)! I thought I might be "too big" for the damn thing but it stopped and the sound of a reservoir being filled could be heard. I finished my business and looked for a flush handle. There was none. I started pushing buttons on the control panel. WOWEE! I'm not sure what amazed me more, the sudden pressurized blast of warm water RIGHT where it "counts" or the fact that the toilet was smart enough to shut itself off when I jumped off the seat in surprise! Determined, I sat back down and tried to relax as the water continued its fusillade. I found the "pressure" knob and dialed her back from "full garden hose press" to something more reminiscent of a gentle kitchen faucet. The next button changes the spray. Rather than a directed blast of pressurized water (an extraordinarily well-aimed blast, I must say), its as if the magic hand switches the garden hose selector switch from "high pressure" to "wide angle spray" and your entire bottom area is "rinsed" with warm water. I can't say it was a pleasant experience, really. I was brooding over the fact that the whole of my bottom end was soaking wet when I pressed the last button. The contents of the bowl were flushed and a gentle fan of cool blowing air started to dry my butt off! Overall, it was a pretty awesome experience. Not quite awesome enough to keep me from going to work tomorrow, but MUCH better than Bandung!
The Food
It's true, you haven't had good BBQ until you've been to Texas, and you haven't had a real Philly-cheesesteak sandwich until you've had one from a street vendor in Philadelphia. Well, I can now personally attest that you have not had sushi until you've had it in Japan! I'm a HUGE sushi fan and while great strides in technology have been made in freezing techniques that can bring good sushi to places like land-locked Minnesota, the difference between "fresh frozen" sushi grade tuna, and tuna steak that was actually swimming 8 hours prior to your chance to consume it, is astronomical! Its not cheap, however, but then again, none of the food here is. Reading from my room service menu, a "Jumbo Western Burger" is $36 and if you want American cheese on it, you'll pay $48. Its a nice hotel, but those prices are fairly reflective of the street prices I saw on my walk today. Mcdonald’s, as usual, is the exception. Mcdonald's in Japan is a weird deal. I think its what Ray Croc always wanted a McDonald's to be. The workers are sterile and perfectly uniform in their dress and manerism. There were three cashiers who's lines were empty while I was in there and all three of them stood perfectly still with their hands behind their backs, waiting for customers. They spoke perfect english, better english than most Americans and certainly better english than most Americans who work at McDonald's! The floor was "Operating Room" clean, the machinery looked brand new. Even the grill was polished to a mirror reflection. It was creepy! I don't know, I travel a lot and I have to say the best burgers I've ever had came from well seasoned grills where plenty of grease from the decades of use has stained the surfaces of grill and spatula alike. It was nice to observe, but I just couldn't eat there. I felt like one of Jim Jones' kool-aid followers. "Come, eat the burger... its good for you! Special for you!" Um, no... I'll go back to the Lion's Tap back home. Or into St. Paul where I can get a "Juicy Lucy" from a grill that's anything but sterile.
Out and About
Tokyo is a beautiful city! Picture the Manhatten skyline and multiply it by 10. The skyline seems to go on in all directions, forever. The other thing is, its meticulously cared for, wherever you look. Its clean to a fault, there are 9 different kinds of recycling bins and you see them everywhere. Nothing appears to be broken and even the construction sites are well appointed. They seem to clean and tidy up WHILE they work and build! Despite the cleanliness of the city, the air, and the sidewalk, people everywhere (and there are lots of them) are wearing those surgical masks. You can actually get fashionable ones now, they come in colors and with patterns and designs. I'm not sure yet what's true, either they're all paranoid or I'm going to die before the week's out because I don't have one!
At breakfast, the placemats at the table had maps of a 10 square mile area around the hotel with walking paths marked on them through old Tokyo. There were 2k, 5k, 6k, and 10k routes. I needed something to do today and it was sunny outside and 50 degrees F, so I couldn't wait to put on my walking shoes. Two blocks from the hotel I found a Shrine. The plaques and such aren't written in English (some are, the vast majority aren't) but I discovered later that this Shrine was built in the Shogun Warrior era (1,000 AD). It was beautiful. The Japanese are tenacious when it comes to holding on to their history and remembering and honoring their past culture. This shrine was no exception. The grounds are swept with brooms from the Shogun period, repairs are made with period tools and materials, and the garden is filled with plants that are no longer indiginous to the area but that flourished 1,000 years ago.
Next on the walk was the Imperial Castle. Wow. This was the Emporer's castle portrayed in the movies Midway and Tora, Tora, Tora. Headquarters to Tokyo and Japan during the wars. To see it, you'd have to swim the moat, climb a steep hill, then scale a twenty foot wall to get onto the castle grounds. Then, you'd have to hike 5k through the woods to gain access to the castle that is built in an excavated depression to hide its size and numbers from any enemies. I'd have done it, but I had a blister on my pinky toe, so... I walked around to the bridge over the moat, walked through the gate (a foot-thick oak door with iron bars rivoted througout for added strength and intimidation) and walked all the way around the castle grounds to the bridge where I learned it was closed on Sundays. *sigh* I took some pictures.
The parks and gardens in the city are staggeringly beautiful. It is an honor to work for the parks department and I met a few of the guys who do while on my walk. The grounds outside the Imperial Castle are among the most meticulously cared for I've ever seen. The trees are trimmed "Bonzai" style and are significantly miniaturized from their true natural size. The trees on the inside of the castle moat appear to be Douglas Fir trees, and they're hundreds of years old but only 12 feet high or so. There are hundreds of them and they represent the Japanese army. The trees on the outside of the moat are a different species of evergreen, also meticulously trimmed, but they're slightly smaller than the Japanese "army" and they represent the enemy. Trimming the trees and caring for the grounds is a full time job for the men who do it. You appreciate the work they do when you realize there isn't as much as a single pine needle on the ground... not a leaf, or an errant sliver of bark. Just "golf green" quality grass, and perfect trees. I took a picture of one of the guys I met and his small army of trimmers. Five little guys in a tree, 10 ladders, TWO pairs of small hand scissor trimmers, and a mountain of full time dedication.
I walked the 10k route but took many departures from the map (some intentional, some not). I took 40 or more pictures and will include some of them in each log throughout the week. One day's pictures may not match the description of that particular day's observations, but I'll do the best I can. Check the bottom of each travelogue for the legend. If the picture you want to see isn't there one day, it will probably be in the next day's log. Please forgive the picture quality in some cases, its a small digital pocket camera that does the best it can... also, it has to rely on the "steady hand" of the picture taker who is NOT travelling with a tripod, by any means.
Subway Rules
When fishing for Alaskan King crab, you can stuff the hold in the ship with crab until it is brimming full. An Alaskan fisherman once told me that if you drop a Dungeonness crab into the hold, the Kings will find a way to "make room" because they're natural enemies with the Dungeonness. It's probably the same way a crowd of monkeys will suddenly evaoporate into the trees when a leopard wanders by.
I rode the subway today. My friends warned me, "Ken, don't ride the subway." So, I did. The first thing you think when you're in the tunnel waiting for the train is, "There is no physical way that Zeus himself could cram these people onto the next train." And yet... there is. I was so "pressed" by the flesh that it was difficult to extract my arms to grab the loop-handle above my head. Off we went. Two stops into the route, the doors opened and a small Japanese lady next to me wanted off. She mewed, she pleaded, she pushed, there was no way she was going anywhere. So... I volunteered to help her. I gave her the universal "head nod" that means, "did you want to get off here?" She gave me the "yes" nod so I gave a fairly mighty shove and pushed 10 Japanese off the train car the same way all of the beer cans slide around in your fridge when you reach in the back to pull out a cold one. She ran off and scampered for the stairs. The others shoved their way back on and they all gave me a furtive glance that said, "It wasn't my fault, please don't hurt me." The next three stops were uneventful but I got more glances that seemed to ask, "did you wish to get off here?" At my stop, I nodded toward those glances and prepared to make another mighty shove, when an exit seemed to materialize like when Moses parted the red sea... It was embarassing, but nice to walk off in time.
Japanese English
Ironically, the last people in the world who should make fun of other people’s use of the English language are Americans. Admit it, it’s true. When was the last time you had to return an item to Walmart, or to order some tacos at Chipotle, and you were met by a service representative who spoke English well? I’m convinced that nobody tries to learn the English language harder than the Japanese. Of course, that doesn’t make it any less humorous to observe! Here are a couple of examples that I found right here in my hotel room: “While sitting on the toilet, the user can hear the sound of flushing from inside the toilet. Once cold water is flushed, the sound is generated to prevent initial cleansing by cold water!” I have no idea what this means, except that you might actually HEAR the toilet flush while you’re still sitting on it, and if you do, you shouldn’t be alarmed. Whew! Here’s another: “Is forbitten to steal hotel towels please. If you are not person to do such thing is please not to read notis.” Ordinarily after reading a posted sign like this, I’d be sorely tempted to steal the towels. It was so cute though, I just couldn’t do it. True to the instruction however, I find myself re-reading this sign 5 or 6 times throughout the day.
Notes:
Hey Todd, how’s your boy fixed for Japanese coins?
Dave… keep the pressure down, son.
Lisa, I don’t have the bird flu… honest.
Mark, Kobe beef is NOT brisket!
Pictures:
Shrine Drum - Big ol drum I saw in the Shrine
Shrine Rope - massive rope (12” diameter) used to ring the bell
Steps out of Shrine - Long way down
Big fat key - my room key! Whatever!
Blue Sky Tree - Winter tree
Bridge to Imperial Castle - Finally, a way across the moat
I am Huge - Look closely… my wife couldn’t find it
Lonely Cop - This is his job… “I want you to stand on this blue box all day and take care of any traffic problems that might crop up on Sunday morning. Don’t leave the box. Stay awake.”
Old things new - Shrine from 1000 A.D. and the Prudential Tower in the background
Pelican and I scared the crap out of each other - I was taking a picture of the cool cactus-like plant and at the last possible moment when I clicked the button, this pelican scared me half to death. I have no doubt he was stealing coy from the pond!
Potty Instructions - Self explanatory. Sort of… |
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