Cognitive Dissonance: Travel

Poulsbo and back again

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 22:56:20 GMT

Well, I had a delightful little case of food poisoning last Wednesday, and 24 hours and 5 pounds later, we were scheduled for our trip out to Poulsbo via the boat. I was nervous that I wasn’t going to be well in time, but got lucky. That and a half-bottle of Imodium AD kept us to plan. The plan meant leaving at 3 on Friday, and going through the Locks , staying at Shilshole overnight. This was our first family overnight cruise, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

We left closer to 3:30, but that was fine. I had estimated a two-hour drive out to the locks, and an hour to go through. Shilshole is just outside the locks, so that last leg was not a worry. Lake Washington was a bit windy and choppy going out, not real bad, but annoying. Once we got into Montlake cut, we were sheltered from the wind and things calmed down. We had a nice slow cruise from there to the Lake Union Gas dock across from the Police Station.

This was actually a pretty impressive setup. A huge gas dock, Pumpouts on both ends, water hoses ready at each mooring (enough for 6-8 boats at once) and a nicely stocked mini-mart. We filled up with Gas, used the pumpout, and topped off our water. When we were done, Guenaddi called us from his boat, he was running behind us, but was only a few minutes away at that point. He finally caught us in the Fremont Cut, and we stopped at the Ballard Bridge to swap a few fenders, and get our friend Adam over to our boat. This gave us a balanced crew on each boat, and made going through the locks easier.

From there we went to the waiting pier for the Large Locks (the small ones are under maintenance) and tied up. We were pretty lucky, and only had to wait about 15 minutes before the light went green and it was time for our group to head in. The number of fish that jump in that area are really amazing, both in size and frequency. But with the fish ladder there, it isn’t surprising. The locks were no real trouble, we got placed next to a larger boat, so we didn’t have to manage our ropes against the wall, (which is pretty green and slimy). The boat next to us was a 50 foot, 1968 Chris Craft, beautifully restored. The captain and his wife were experienced, and were very helpful to Yulia and Adam as they worked the lines to tie us up. We chatted with them a bit and with the tide high, it was a short ride down.

Once out of the locks, I was able to hail the harbormaster at Shilshole, and get our spaces on the guest dock. All of Shilshole has gone through a full remodel, and the place is immaculate. H Dock has the guest spaces and the fuel dock as well. Each slip has a post with full power, water, and Cable TV. Normally, the Cable TV would be superfluous, but with the Olympics on, it was appreciated. We were able to grill chicken on the BBQ, break out some Bordeaux, and have a great dinner, watching the sun set over the breakwater, and watching the Chinese finish cheating their way through women’s gymnastics.

I used to have a really nice collapsible bucket. I say “used to” because the crew saw little fishes swimming near the dock and tried to catch some with the bucket. It had a short little rope attached so you could haul it back in, but apparently it needed a float attached to the end, just in case someone threw it too far and the rope slipped from their hand. Lesson Learned.

In the morning, we had a quick breakfast, and left under no wind with clear skies. The water was like glass heading out, and we were going straight across Puget Sound to Agate Pass. We timed the tides to hit as close to slack as possible, since Agate Pass can be really fast when at full tide. We were still against the tide a bit, but aside from a few bumps as we entered, it was no real problem. From there we slowly meandered our way into Liberty Bay, and on to Poulsbo.

Coming into the public marina, we saw that the wooden breakwater was covered in Harbor Seals, and the water was filled with little jellyfish. The Harbormaster gave us two slips on F dock, and we went around the back side to tie up. The wind was starting to pick up, and was blowing us to the side, making mooring difficult. Naturally, there was a huge crowd of people on the dock, drinking and watching us. Advice was freely given. It took me three approaches to get the timing and direction of the wind correct, but I managed to get the boat to slip into the fairly narrow slip without smacking anything, earning me a round of applause from the group watching. They helped us tie down, and we were in.

Poulsbo looks like a kitschy little Norwegian town stuck in a fjord somewhere, and was the home to Norwegian immigrant fisherman (they liked the whole fjord look.) In fact, we were lucky enough to land for the 100 year celebration festival, so there were events, music, lutefisk, the works. Walking around town there was a street fair and dance scheduled for the evening. It was the perfect time to be there.

We took the dinghy out and drove past the seals to get a few pictures. They were bored with us for the most part, since we were not offering any food. The girls got to hold a non-stinging jellyfish, which I thought was a bit gross, but they liked it. It was hot enough in the afternoon that I put the top up just to give us more shade, which helped a bit.

Dinner was BBQ veggies and Lamb, more wine, and more wine. We took a nighttime walk around the city to see the dancing and look at the shops open late. There was a great little Nautical gift shop that had Brass lamps, pirate stuff, cigars and model ships. One of them was the old Mosquito Fleet ship, Virginia V. I thought that one was pretty neat, since I have seen that very ship on Lake Union, and it is one of the few remaining original ferries from the old mosquito fleet. After that, we had some wine. For some reason, falling asleep was easy.

The next day, we headed out after waiting for the quick morning rain to stop. There was a bit more wind, and the water had a few more rolling waves once we were outside Agate Pass. But it was mostly uneventful out to the locks, but this time we had a much longer wait. Over an hour later a huge stream of ships came out of the locks, including a gigantic barge and tugboat, several big sailboats, and to my surprise the Virginia V, the real ship that I saw the model of in the store. That was surprising.

In the locks again, we were tied up to some very new, 90 foot megayacht, crewed by a guy in Hawaiian shorts, and his wife, who knew a lot less than us about how to handle lines. This should have been my clue that this was going to be less than optimal. We were all tied down, and once the doors closed and the lock started to fill, I headed to the bow to watch the lines there. It took a while to notice, but apparently the megayacht “captain” fired his engines back up, so he could use his maneuvering thrusters. This kept him from actually having to manage his lines with actual body strength. Of course, this totally filled the lock with Carbon Monoxide fumes, and all the people in smaller boats were choking, but the lockmasters didn’t notice, and once we got to the top it was too late. We all had monstrous CO headaches once we got out of there.

From there we slowly worked our way out back into the lake, Stopping for a pumpout again, and watching some fool in too large of a sailboat almost smack into the Montlake Bridge with his mast. He was too close, and it didn’t open when he wanted it to, so he had to reverse quickly, but had traffic backed up behind him. So he turned sharply, and almost smacked the side of the cut. He ended up sideways in the cut, blocking all traffic, until the bridge was open. We finally headed for home, and stopped once again to make a little dinner of sausage and cheese. We were hot, and we were tired, but it was a very successful cruise.

photography by Yulia Hancheroff

Aeropuerto Cabo San Lucas

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 20:27:04 GMT

Possibly it is too much to ask for air conditioning in the Cabo airport, but how about a few frakking fans?

Jesus this place is hot and muggy. The Cabo airport appears to be one of those surplus military storage huts. It is all brightly painted, with fresh tile and nice little shops, but the lack of central air conditioning is a dead giveaway that this place was just thrown up overnight. I like airports, actually. It is part of the travel process, that while never pleasant, has its own interesting aspects.

Currently, Sasha is watching Spongebob Squarepants on the TV in Spanish. She doesn't need subtitles, since she has already seen every episode so many times that she already knows the words by heart.

"Hola! Spongebob!"
"Hola Patrick, donde esta Squidward?"

Yulia is checking out the shops to see if any of them are air conditioned, or at least have a big ice cream cooler to stand in front of. I probably wouldn't be so interested in the place here, but we arrived three hours early for our plane, since the taxi was much faster from the hotel than planned, and there was no line for bags yet. So this is our home for a bit.

----

Close examination has shown that there is a small downdraft of cool air in front of the duty free shop, and inside the the shop near the Chivas Regal is another, these are too weak to cool you down, but almost stop you from heating up further. The duty free shop offers test shots of the tequila they sell. I am most certain that their tequila is in fact defective, and that this can only be proved through several rounds of thorough testing, however I am not sure the girl pouring shots will buy into this.

An hour and a half to go until our plane boards.

----

They started boarding the plane early, so we went racing across the airport to find everyone and get our stuff in time. I usually don't worry about losing our seats, that just isn't going to happen, but if you don't get on in time all the overhead space is gone. And we have been waiting too damn long in this steam room of an airport for someone else to take my fucking overhead bin. I'll shift your contents motherfucker.

Planes have air conditioning. Air conditioning is good. The drinks can't start coming soon enough.

-----

The three overweight women behind us are too drunk to talk in a normal tone, and too sober to pass out and just shut the fuck up. I really no longer have any interest in hearing about how each of them can sooo relate to the women of Sex and the City, what a terrific deal they got on the timeshare they bought at the presentation at their hotel, or how they want to pick up on the good looking male flight attendant, who is obviously gay.

It is probably these moments of true grating annoyance that make me really enjoy flying. I hate people in general, and sometimes I forget why. Times like this recharge my hatred batteries, giving me the cynicism and vitrol enough for the rest of the year. I return from my break ready to face a whole new batch of stupidity, energized and prepared to dive headlong into the problem that someone else created, and not give a crap.

One of these drunken bitches got up to let her buddy go to the restroom and poured Sangria down Yulia's back. Class. With a "k". I hope they drank lots of Mexican water.

LAX is up next.

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Oh yeah, I forgot how miserable LAX is. John Wayne is a much better airport to use in LA, but we have our transfer here. LAX is one of those airports where you have to go outside to change from the International Terminal to Domestic. And there are no transfer instructions for visitors either, so I pity those who don't speak English trying to catch a connecting flight. We had plenty of time and were able to get through all the Passport control, baggage claim, Customs, baggage drop off, run down the sidewalk to the next terminal, go through the next security check, and run out to the gate.

We were at Gate 31, which is in that old section that has all the good looks (and smell) of your average urban train station. There are only two places to eat, and they are actually not too bad, but pretty filthy. It was certainly better than the Cabo airport, if only because it was less than 300 degrees inside, but when you look at places like Sea-Tac, that have worked to modernize their facilities, it gets real surprising to see such a huge hub like LAX be such a disaster.

Looks like we have good weather in Seattle for our return. That would be a real change from most of our trips, and a welcome one at that. It will be nice to sleep in our own beds when we are back, and I'm sure that Oscar and the cats have missed us as well. Sasha missed them, and had adopted a couple of hermit crabs in Cabo to be her pets. We kept them in a Tupperware container with sand in the hotel, and released them on the beach this morning. The were healthy and glad to be back in their beach, but Sasha was sad to see them go. Ever the magnet for animals, Sasha has a cat-carrier bag with two meowing cats below her on the plane. She is very concerned that they are not happy, but I figure they that will sleep on their own at some point.

Once we land, I have a towncar reserved to pick us up, it's the same price as a shuttle or a taxi, and much more relaxing. It is also pretty convenient to not have to bother your friends to come and get you.

----

I think we will probably do Cabo again at some point. I think it would be good if we could find a year to do a driving vacation, as Yulia still hates flying and it is no fun putting her through it. But a two hour hop like this is a lot easier than the 7+ to Europe, or the 12 to Moscow.

We'll see. Planning begins now.

The Trip's in the Bag

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 14:40:26 GMT

As noted on our France trip, when touring around I always carry my trusted Pan Am Airlines shoulder bag. It's light, not a bulky as a camera bag or other "man purse" and I get to fill it with crap. This vacation's contents included the following:

Camera (HP Photosmart E427)
Sunblock
Chapstick
Small First Aid Kit
Room Key
Sunglasses
Disinfectant hand cream
Spanish phrasebook
Moleskine Notebook
2 pens
2 pounds of Mexican coins adding up to a total of $2.35
Mini Swiss Army Knife on a Carabineer with Mini Compass, that didn't work at all

I also wore my trusty straw hat, now entering its fourth year of service, and a bit worse for wear. It has lost most of its stiffness, and is sagging terribly. I need to find some way to stiffen it back into a proper shape. Maybe hairspray. I will work on this when we get back.

Another equipment note, I am still using my Toshiba Portege 2000 notebook for travel, it recovered from its wine ingestion last year, but a few days ago the keyboard went wonky. The arrows quit, then the "a" key quit as well, and soon other keys were pretty spotty in their response. It turned out that the heat by the pool loosened the cable connector of the keyboard. I was able to use the swiss army knife to disassemble the keyboard and reconnect the cable. Pain in the butt, but it lives to serve another trip.

The bag is big enough for the laptop at times, or a sixpack of beer, maps, shoes, or some other alternating thing for the moment. I have certainly gotten my 35 Euros worth out of it.

But it's a dry heat...

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 03:47:46 GMT

Damn, another seriously hot day today. This is our last full day in Mexico, and we have a great combination of scorching heat and high winds with huge waves on the beach. Got mail from Humbaba earlier saying that their Condo is just down the beach, so after breakfast we swam a bit and headed in that direction to find a few cheap drinks. The Tabasco bar has been our favorite hangout in the area, so we stopped there for a quick six beers before continuing. We were quickly adopted by a dog and several silver merchants, we liked the dog best.

by this point the sand was insanely hot, and we ran screaming down the beach for Pueblo Bonito, with it's funky blue domes. It was a nice place, I checked out the pool, and Yulia and Gena peed in the beach shower while pretending to clean up. About halfway back up to our hotel they were proved the wiser. We got back to out hotel and I hobbled back to the restroom, nearly bursting in the process.

Relieved and tired, we all rested a bit, then I headed to the business center to print out tickets. I managed to unfuck our seating arrangements, and get everything in order.

Not much else went on. it is good to have a slower day, after such a busy week, We went into town and finished our souvenir shopping and had dinner.

Back in Seattle soon.

Public Service Announcement

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 15:00:16 GMT

From the Hotel Concierge:

To all our guests and patrons. We deeply appreciate your business, and do hope that your time spent here is as pleasant an experience as possible. We would ask that if you are a fat woman with a near total inability to move under your own power, please do not go down onto the beach when six foot high waves are crashing in. But if you do, please do not attempt to run sideways, allowing the wave to crash into the side of your already weakened knees, snapping it in half. As you writhe in pain on the sand, please try not to flail and crawl about as much as possible, making the damage worse. If this does occur, we will have the paramedicos arrive by small boat, in those same six foot waves, and nearly get pulled under trying to get you assistance. In this event, we have a team of large, pasty white gringos who will help the paramedicos get to you, then they will also assist in carrying you from the beach to the ambulance.

Sadly, you will be mocked mercilessly on their blog.

Thank you again, and don't forget to get the free breakfast for listening to one of our fascinating presentations.

Gracias!

Curva Peligrosa

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 05:17:05 GMT

So Yulia came back from her morning run pretty excited. We had been talking all week about going out to Todos Santos, or some other small town to see something that was less resort like. Todos Santos was high on our list because of the Hotel California there, and because Yulia went there with her brother last year, who was in Mexico on business at the same time she was. Most of the tours that we had heard going out to that area were pretty expensive for what you got, and didn't spend much time in the city in general. Yulia as it turned out was talking with the girl at the tour/rental desk, and the girl there told her that the best option was either to just rent a car and drive, or take the public bus. lots of the hotel workers commute daily from Todos Santos, and it is a quick drive if you aren't on a tour that stops all the time.

With six of us, renting a car was only a little more expensive than the public bus, so we went with the car. There is only one road between the cities, so getting lost wasn't that big of a deal. And since I have driven in southern California, I know enough roadside Spanish to get along. We signed for the car and the girl brought around a Chrysler minivan, which was perfect. There is a nice little ring road that bypasses the downtown, and it took us straight over to Highway 19, the main strip going north.

Road to Nowhere...

The road between Cabo and Todos Santos is a really nice, freshly paved four-lane highway - for the first two miles. After that, it turns back into the narrow, two lane road that twists and turns around the hills, climbing and diving along the terrain. Warning signs for dry creekbeds across the roads and wild cattle were everywhere. Every few miles there would be a nicely build gateway, announcing the entrance to Rancho Something Or Another, with no actual ranch or homes behind it, and no apparent way to drive into the gate. Land For Sale sign were everywhere, and it wasn't too hard to imagine this whole area turning into the same kind of suburbs that Cabo has on the way from the airport, Big expensive houses on the water, with little support towns on the main road.

We eventually caught up to a slow moving truck, towing some kind of generator or other equipment, and shortly thereafter a rapidly approaching Tour Bus caught up to us. The bus driver had no interest in slowing down, and came right up to our rear bumper before slowing down. He jockeyed about a bit, and finally passed both of us on a downhill stretch, followed by a caravan of local trucks and cars, until only other tourists were behind us, also not interested in passing the slower truck. We finally got to slow down as we hit the speed bumps in Pescadero, which we were told is a very cute town. We chose to roll past Pescadero and get lunch in Todos Santos. A few minutes later we were there and looking for a place to park.

Yulia recognized most of the streets, and was pretty excited once she saw Hotel California. We parked just around the corner from the hotel, and headed into the little gallery on the side. It was actually a pretty nice gallery, but once you find out that the whole town is filled with galleries, you get really picky. The lady running the hotel (one of the owners) was very happy to spin us the tale about how the hotel was the inspiration for the song, even though none of the Eagles had ever been there, and have actively denied the song having anything to do with any actual hotel at all. But obfuscation is smart business in this case.

We walked around a bit, checking out the shops and galleries, looking for a place to eat. We came down to two places, and picked the one that had outdoor seating by the street. As usually, the food was fantastic, and the Margaritas were as big as your head (not my head, but maybe yours). The pico de gallio was so good we were eating it with a spoon. Yulia had a fantastic Chille Relleno, and I had a sampler of everything. It was also good to get out of the sun for a bit, even being just a bit further inland you could feel the difference in temperature that not having a ocean breeze makes. We talked to the waiter a bit, and told him we were from Seattle, which he had never heard of. We then mentioned that Yulia and the others were from Russia, which he had also not heard of. At this poiint we just commented that the tortillas were nice, and he was glad to hear that. A short time later, Yulia realized that this place was where she and Kolya had lunch a year before, and the waiter finally recognized her. We told him that we'd see him in a year, and he smiled and waved at us like the idiots that we were.

Along the streets we ran into a few more interesting things: a little shop ran by a big happy dog, with help from his owner; lots of Real Estate agencies, A business that advertised "problem solving", and a new market for fresh fruits and vegetables with cool metal lizards on the walls. This place was very new, and stood out for that same reason. It was also humorous to notice that all the dry goods in the store were "Kirkland" brand, from Costco. Sasha was pretty collected here, getting a bunch of mini bananas, taking then to the counter herself, paying in pesos, and saying "Gracias", all from a kid who two years ago was nervous to talk to her own Grandparents.

The cactuses here were in bloom, covered all over with very beautiful, and really painfully sharp flowers, (only if you are an idiot and pick one up without thinking - note: me==Dumbass). Further into town we found a little hole-in-the-wall hotel called the Todos Santos Inn. What was surprising was that once we went through the entry way, it was this exclusive beautiful hotel inside. And it was totally empty. We snuck past the front desk into the courtyard and were really amazed. The whole place was just amazing, little rooms on a brick courtyard, down a small set of stairs was a dining patio, down another were more rooms, the honeymoon suite, and a little pool. I went to the lobby to keep the hostess distracted, by seeming interested in the place and asking her rates and times, meanwhile, Yulia and the girls took a quick dip in the pool to cool off. When we left we thanked her, and left a trail of wet footprints on the way out.

On this hilly section of town, you could really see the difference in how the buildings are laid out, each curb was different in height by between two to three feet. Little concrete steps were built into the corners to get you up onto the higher curbs. I'm just glad I didn't fall off without looking. We headed back towards the town center and to the Tequila Factory outlet. We had passed it earlier, and they had free samples, of which we did our best to determine the cream of the crop. A few bottles later and we were ready for church. As expected, the church is in the center of town and really serene. We stopped in quickly, sat for a bit, and headed out of town.

On the way back we wanted to stop somewhere nice for a few more beers, and Pescadero was supposed to be older and cute. It is entirely possible that there are two towns called Pescadero, because the one we saw was a mess. There was nowhere to stop, and nothing that was truly old either, it all looked like pretty new, pretty bad construction, run down and in need of paint and screen doors. It was also small enough that we were out of town before we realized it, and just kept heading south.

The road was totally empty for the longest time, then Sasha saw a place coming up, and we pulled in. It was located at KM post 69, and called Art & Beer. Personally, I chose beer at this point, but we were going to get both whether we wanted it or not. The place from the road looked like a farm or ranch or something. The fence was tall enough such that you really couldn't tell. As we approached the gate, an old man with flowing robes and a beard, like a Mexican Jedi, came out and asked us if we were there for dinner. Not really knowing what was going on, I said we were there for some beers, and he told us to go in and find a table.

On the inside the place was a cross between a sculpture Garden, fine art gallery, Tavern, and Mos Eisley from Star Wars. It was pretty hot, so we got round of drinks to cool off, found a table at the end of the place near their "stage", and relaxed for a bit. Every inch of the place was covered in some form of artwork, from paintings, to cocktail umbrellas in the woodwork to an old schoolbus painted up to mean some damn thing that I couldn't figure out, but must have had meaning. New Age music was playing over the speakers, composed any played by the owners as well. Choosing Beer, I still got art.

The food was also great, we just had some fruit, all fresh, chips, a fish and Jicima spread, and a collection of insanely great salsas. These were too hot to eat, but too good to stop. We were all hopping about from the hot sauce, and drinking water to cool down as best we could. I bought a CD of their odd Music, and as we left to pay, we each got an extra beer on the house. We talked with the owner as we finished these, and apparently the place is a favorite hangout of many of the Hollywood types that live in Cabos. Anthony Hopkins is a regular, Michael Jordan another. Yet another Famous place that no one knows about.

We headed out, and as we drove, Gena noted that the signs on the side said "Curva peligrosa" or "Curves Dangerous". As it turns out Curva is a Polish swear word for Whores, but since we didn't see any dangerous whores around, we assumed this to just be a coincidence.

But we kept our eyes peeled, just in case...

Welcome aboard the Raging Queen - Yarrrrg!

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 15:30:28 GMT

We (just Yulia Sasha and I) all got up early enough to hit the town for some breakfast and groceries, as we were heading down the front of the hotel through the security gate, we were stopped twice by hotel employees asking if we were heading to timeshare presentations. Apparently they take down your name and room when you go to these offsite, the implication being that they want to make sure you don't vanish into someone's van forever.

We walked to a place called "City Club" which was recommended by pretty much everyone as the best place to by groceries that you can walk to. We ended up taking a big detour around the block, and by the time we got to the entrance, were looking forward to getting inside and getting a bite. Naturally, it is members only. from there we hit the nearest mini mart to get coffee and something. Fiesta Mini-Mart was back on the same road as our hotel, and had a fantastic little bakery. After eating a few pastries, some juice, coffee and Gatorade, we headed further into town. Everything off of the main drag was much cheaper, and little vegetable carts, bakeries, and shops were all around.

We ended up at a place called Oxxo that had packaged tamales, mini-pizzas and burritos, we grabbed a bunch of those, some beer, and headed back to the hotel. Now we were prepared with some easy food that would keep us from having to pay hotel prices each time.

The big entertainment of the day was a sunset cruise aboard the Buccaneer Queen. The boat was a three-masted sailboat dressed up to look like a pirate ship. And they did a quality job too, all the rigging, sails, and everything were top notch. Most importantly it had a open bar for the whole evening. The cruise took us out of the marina, over to the arch for a bit. The place was seriously crowded with boats, I was impressed that no one bumped into anyone else. From there we went around the point, into the Pacific Ocean. The seas were way rougher out there, and Sasha and Yulia were pretty nervous.

Around this point the crew photographer called us over, and we went down into the cabin. The cabin was insanely dressed up as well, with great woodwork, displays of pirate art and coins, and the computer used for the photos. These were way cheaper than the Dolphin place, so we got one of the group of us. The captain was down here taking a break as well, and naturally, had a parrot. Sasha's spirits lifted with an animal to play with, (we also have a hermit crab living on our balcony) and she felt much more relaxed once we went back up on deck. (the parrot stayed below)

Back in the bay, the crew started their program, with an introduction of people having birthdays (including a lot of kids), and then went on to the dance contest. Naturally, with Yulia being the hottest girl on board, she was grabbed first to go up. They filled the stage halfway with women, then told them all to find partners. Having great sympathy for me and my debilitating White-Man's two-step disease, Yulia brought me on stage. Since there is always a trick, the trick to this contest was that the crew would shout out commands:

Tequila - freeze in place
Margarita - raise your arms and yell
Cerveza - switch partners

If you got something wrong, you were out. It started out pretty easy, but as it got faster people were getting eliminated. Of course one of the better tricks was to grab a partner of the same sex just to stay in, this didn't break the rules, and seemed quite popular with some of the guys from San Francisco. The music and commands got faster and faster, eventually knocking Yulia and most of the others out of the running, and once we got down to the last four (including me!), they added two more commands:

Pina Colada - Guy on his hands and knees and woman rides him like a horse.
Salsa - Guy lifts the girl in the air like Scooby Doo.

The Pina Colada command now stressed the importance of having a girl as your partner. The crew was having a good time yelling commands as fast a they could, and Yulia looked like she was going to injure her spleen laughing at me on stage, but I was able to keep up with the music and commands. I had no trouble lifting the girl faster than the other guy to keep up, but as he was from San Francisco, he could get on his knees much faster. Finally the crew called it a draw, and we all won coupons for snorkeling on the ship. Yulia was very proud of me for winning, but I was glad to get off stage, as I was begging to approach sobriety after all the physical exertion and getting slightly self-conscious.

Some light snacks were brought out to sop up the Rum in everyone's stomach. They then ran a sword and acrobatics show, which was pretty good, and very funny. They were swinging from the rigging, making jokes, and did some pretty good sword work. Finally, the "bad guy" took a leap from the deck, grabbed a rope, swung out from the ship and dove into the water to "escape". During this Yulia was talking to one of the younger bartenders and found out that the boat is run by two families, and the young guy is working to get his Captain's license to get another boat.

This was probably the most professional, and most fun of these goofy events that we have been on. Way fun.

Flipper tastes like chicken

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 20:08:20 GMT

The Cabo Dolphins experience is pretty cool. the kids got a chance to swim with dolphins, and we got a chance to buy pictures of that for only $100. (note: not Pesos) Even with the high prices it was really worth it, it was a full hour experience, with about 30 minutes of full swimming time, and even from the sidelines it was a really cool show to watch. Basically, they get the kids (and parent also if you wanted to do that) in groups around the edge of the dolphin tank. the give a little lecture about the dolphins, how to act around them, and then they bring you over to meet your dolphin host. Each group of about ten people gets their own dolphin to interact with. Sasha's group was in the middle of the bunch, so we had a great view of them.

The facility itself was pretty swank, white outdoor couches, shade umbrellas and a bar in the waiting area. The whole place was done up in levels of concrete and sand floors, with color coded areas depending on which group you were in. Not swimming, the adults in our group got white tags, which meant that we sat in the viewers section, and you couldn't take pictures. Partially because you were too far back to get a good angle, and partially because the photography is where they made their real money. We got 8 photos on a disk for the price, which is highway robbery, but you can't get pictures of your kid swimming with dolphins everyday, so it was worth it.

The girls ate quickly at the bar in the dolphin center. Apparently swimming with giant mammals uses a bit of your energy. Of course, they ate fish. We then went as a group down along the Marina, and were looking for a decent place for cheap beer and food. All the hawkers along the way were trying to sell us the usual cheap silver, fishing trips, and explaining to us how much better their fresh seafood joint with a bucket of beer for $10 was vastly superior to the neighboring fresh seafood joint with a bucket of beer for $10. We eventually stopped at one of these, and got the bucket of beer, some shrimp, and THE BEST FUCKING TACOS EVER. I immediately ordered another plate, since the others at the table devoured most of mine. These are just simple steak and tortillas, but I can't find anywhere in Seattle that has anything close. Even the Redmond Taco truck at the VFW (they recently moved to the gas station at sr520 & 148th. There is an internal MS alias to track where the truck is currently. )

As expected, some lady walked by with a large deadly lizard wearing a sombrero, and we got the kids picture for 50 pesos. With some time and effort we could have talked her down, but my beer was getting warm. Back at the table we were having issues with bees. I told the girls that we put Lime on the beer to keep flies and bees off, so they began squirting limes all over themselves to keep the bees away. Since they didn't get stung, it must have worked. No, really.

After some light shopping we headed back to the hotel, past The Office, from the street side this time. I noticed that there was the first instance of a handicapped access sign that I have seen here. When we approached it, I saw that is was a handicapped space, far too small to fit any real car, that led to a set of crumbling stairs with no ramp, with a rocky landing below. I wasn't sure if this was handicapped access, or if the locals threw the handicapped down these stairs to their death as some sort of sacrifice. In either case, the space was unused.

We finished the day with pizza and a sunset at the Italian restaurant in the hotel. There seem to be a lot of Italian restaurants here. Likely, Italian food is the Mexican version of Mexican food in the US. They have a full outdoor brick Pizza oven in any case, and it's pretty damn good. Sunset doesn't suck either.

Africa Kinda Hot

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 20:59:53 GMT

Apparently, when the wind changes at our hotel, we have a waste processing plant upwind.

The word would be, "dang!"

Yesterday was a serious fucking scorcher. Yulia, Sasha and Katya went out to the beach to play early in the morning and I was by the pool under the umbrellas, thinking they would be out for a pretty short time. Two hours and fifteen degrees later, they were limping back up to the pool. Needless to say they were not looking good. The day before was not nearly as hot, but today was seriously rising fast, Yulia and the girls were caught out making sandcastles by the little bar out on the beach. By the time they realized that it was too hot to be out they were trekking back across the hot sand, seriously dehydrated.

By the time they got back to me they were hot, dry, and in pain, and in serious need of food and drink. We all moved to the bar inside the pool. After some chips, fries, fish and drink they were better, but slightly toasted around the edges. We ended up hiding under cover of the pool bar until things cooled down a bit. In all likeliness they had a mild case of heat exhaustion. Most of the time the wind off the ocean cools everything down, but if it comes off the hot land, it's a whole different ballgame.

Come inside the show's about to start...

Sun, 06 Jul 2008 18:03:19 GMT

Last night we decided to drop into town again and not wanting to walk all the way, we had our choice between a normal taxi and the water taxi. Naturally, we picked the least efficient of the two, the water taxi. These guys are everywhere on the beach, and it only takes a few moments to wave one down, the problem is getting on board, since they try to time themselves with the waves. With six of us getting in, it was a fucking circus. Yulia and Sasha had no trouble, but the rest ambled about, no knowing what to do. so I threw my shoes into the boat, held the front of the boat still and planted my feet into the sand while they climbed in, waves crashing about us and the pilot jockeying the engine. Once they were in, I shoved hard and had to do a somersault to make it in as the boat pulled away. I still travel with my Pan Am Airlines bag and straw hat, no nothing was lost.

Once underway, the other passengers in the boat were headed out to Lover's beach and the Arch, so we got a quick tour of the harbor. The arch is beautiful, but actually a pretty small rock formation. nevertheless, it's really cool to see close up. We then headed around the rocks, and the pilot told us to look through the bottom of the boat at the local fish. All the taxis are Glass-Bottomed-Boats, or more accurately, Filthy-Scratched-Plexiglass-Bottomed-Boats, but we were still able to see a few shapes moving below, and with a bit of imagination, I could assume that they were fish.

After getting dropped off at the Marina, we braved the gauntlet of merchants, street urchins, and timeshare drones to head towards the mall and restaurant district. Looking into the water we could see huge schools of fish, eels and skates swimming about. About halfway down the waterfront we ran into one of those "Get your child's picture taken with a poisonous or dangerous animal" stands. In this case, starring a baby lion. Naturally, we forced the kids to holds still (baby lions can smell fear, and fresh meat) and snapped a few shots. At this point it was getting pretty hot, and we had to make a break for Haggen Daaz, the traditional Mexican location for cooling down in the afternoon.

Cabo is a hotbed of new construction. The mall where we are at is about half empty, and not even fully complete. The waterfront has less of the older traditional family Mexican places you saw before, and lots of upscale dining and swanky clubs and bars. Fortunately there are still lots of kids trying to sell you gum, so you know that you are still in Mexico. We stopped for a bit at the Museum of Tequila, which is a small tequila shop with a couple of cool displays of agave production, some stills, and a bit of history. Since we took a tequila factory tour on our last trip, I knew the whole story of how tequila is produced, and talked with the guy for a bit about the family tequila farm we visited. He seemed actually surprised that we knew about the whole process, and was happy to give us samples of some of their better bottles. We may be forced to visit this place again.

We wandered a bit more around the waterfront, then headed out for the beach to find a place to eat on the water. We ended up at The Office, one of Cabo's landmark bars. We were before the evening rush, so they got us a table right on the edge of the beach. Not a cheap place by any means, but the quality of the food was fantastic. We also appreciated that the menu was neither American Tourist Standard, nor This-is what-Americans-expect-Mexican-food-to-taste-like fare. It was good local fish, and meats, and really done perfectly. Made it much more worth the cost. Sadly it had a bit too much tourist flair, as there was a pirate-bandito guy wandering about, and a clown making balloon animals. Despite this, it was still great food and drink.

We walked back up the beach after dinner, and realized that we were standing on the exact spot where we were five years before. Originally we thought it was much closer to our hotel, in the empty space next door, because the place we were dropped off by the taxi back then was the end of the developed part of the beach. But we figured out that our current hotel is much further, the spot where we were was much closer in town, right next to The Office. Five years ago, there were only two bars here, and a little concrete building with restrooms on the beach. Now the bars are there, but buried in hotels and condos. If we hadn't seen the little concrete building there we would never have recognized it. There is an empty beach with a little restaurant by our hotel, but I can only imagine that getting developed as well at some point.

We had hoped to find a tour out to some more remote town, to see a bit of unspoiled architecture and culture, like our trip out to Copala, but there doesn't seem to be anything like that out here. I'd love to find something unspoiled to see, but as with most tourism, just being there can spoil an area. So maybe isolating the tourists off in their own Wildlife Preserve isn't such a bad idea after all. Just so long as I can get my drinks with a little umbrella in them.

Right behind this glass
there's a real blade of grass
be careful as you pass
move along, move along....

Whale Watching and other Sport

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 21:04:27 GMT

There is a fine balance in relaxing. When you have a limited amount of time, you end up putting a lot of effort into trying to balance going out and doing interesting things (tours, activities, etc) with the need to just plain rest and do nothing. The sad bit is that it takes a fair amount of work just to keep those in balance. That's life really, I have read many things about how kids today are "overscheduled" with various sports, music, after school crap, and they stop acting like kids. I think adults are far worse in this aspect, not only running their lives, but trying to teach their kids to do more of the same, instead of less.

For our trip, we are trying to hold ourselves to just two events, one being a dolphin swimming thing, and one other. Current voting trends indicate that a trip out to see some local town or something is leading the polls. We shall see. Our trip to Copala near Mazatlan a few years ago was excellent, and if we could find something like that it would be perfect. Apparently the hotel modeled after Hotel California is nearby, and is really beautiful. Again, we shall see.

The real downside to Mexico is that it is filled with Americans. Big, fat, greasy ones too. In the evening the poolside looks like one of those GreenPeace events where a pod of whales have beached themselves, flurries of workers are scattered around, frantically running about, but instead of trying to drag these fat bastards back into the ocean where they belong, they are getting them towels and serving them drinks. Thank God this isn't a topless beach.

Another cruise ship came in today, I think this is actually the one we took before, but seems to be on a different schedule. They got in pretty late (10am,) and are still here at 1:00. The ship really fills the harbor, and with the calmer weather today there are all the excursion boats out at once, buzzing around the big ship like drunken hornets. If the hornets were trying to sell you handmade dresses, local silver, and henna tattoos.

Aside from all that, I have to say how much I enjoy watching the syncopated rhythms of the ceiling fans on the balconies here. Looking up from the pool, each one is running at a slightly different speed, with the wind blowing some others still slowly, and some in reverse. Once in a while they sync up for a moment and it almost looks like it was planned. Of course if it was, it wouldn't look so cool.

Baja-ha-ha! ho-ho-ho! And a couple of tra-la-las...

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 21:12:02 GMT

We are staying at Villa La Estancia. A pretty phenomenal resort in Cabo, with a huge suite of a room. includes a kitchen, washer/dryer, balcony with wet bar, Jacuzzi, the works. We have a fantastic view of the ocean from our room.

Waking up this morning we looked out and saw the cruise line ship in the Bay, dropping off the passengers for their half-day on shore. We took that exact same cruise almost 5 years ago, and sat on the beach not too far from where our hotel is now.

It seems that most of the storm has cleared up at this point, the waves on the beach are pretty crazy, and the sand is littered with dead pufferfish. The beach vendors selling dresses, silver, and henna tattoos are just coming out. The excursion sales folks are already set up, and tried to rent us a Jetski as we walked along the sand. With no liability to think of, renting a jetski during 3 foot swells must seem like a good idea.

We passed.

Over at the breakfast bar, some kind of small yellow bird was in competition with a less attractive gray bird for the scraps of cereal and dropped food. Naturally, we were rooting for the yellow bird to win. Looks count. The food itself was fantastic, with the usual buffet fare, plus some kind of Mexican tortilla and sauce dish that was heavy, but delicious. I went with grapefruit juice, bacon, banana bread, eggs, pineapple, the tortilla stuff (with two different salsas), and a danish. I topped that off with a Bloody Mary and we had the breakfast of champions.

One of the things that we are noticing is that the prices, while much more expensive than what we would pay in town, are so much cheaper that what we paid in Hawaii in the past. Our trip to Hawaii a few years back was God-awful expensive, and frankly, not nearly as nice as what we have here, at maybe a fourth the price. We haven't even been far into town yet, but it is hard to imagine things getting more expensive than the big resort prices we are already paying.

With a kitchen in the room it is much easier to stock up a few snacks, some beer, tequila, and crap like that and just sit and enjoy the view from the balcony. of course we are on the 8th floor, and the weak antenna in my laptop doesn't get enough signal to connect, so I am forced to head down to the pool bar on occasion to get my information. (and post this shit). Being forced to head down to the pool bar is really tough, but I suppose I will find some way to manage.

(note to self: my beer has a URL on it http://www.xxlager.com.mx I must remember to check that out later. I am using this to chase Cabo Wabo brand tequila, which I would officially describe as "meh")

Oh yeah, apparently today is the Fourth of July. For whatever reason we always seem to be out of the US on the Fourth. Odd. The buffet here has "American Food" for the fourth, which seems to consist of mixed lettuce, hot dogs, burgers, and flank steak with ranch dressing. In the US, I have never seen anyone have flank steak with ranch dressing, but I suppose that is just Mexico's answer to Americans putting Sour Cream on Mexican food. Who fucking knows, eh gringo?

The Rain God

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 01:17:16 GMT

Well, I still have no idea why, but every time we go on vacation we take the rain with us. We had a week of blazing hot weather before we left, and literally as we leave the entire pacific coast starts getting hit with these monster thunderstorms. Sasha was completely freaking out. our plane out of Sea-Tac was held up because they couldn't refuel with the lightning. Luckily enough, we had a long layover in LA, so we made our connection to Cabo in time.

And in Cabo, there were storms. not slow ones either, big dumping rain that was hot and heavy. it knocked dirt out of the palm trees such that once we got out of the rain and inside we could see that we were not just wet, but filthy as well. The wind was whipping across the water and we could see the bay as a rolling, boiling tempest, not exactly what you want to swim in.

But this is typical. We were dodging rain in Paris last year, had heavy showers last time in LA at Disneyland, and just generally get bad weather when we travel. I'm pretty sure we bring it with us. I'll have to check my bags more carefully next time.

English Russia » Pictures from Soviet Moscow

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 17:35:02 GMT

Wow. Cool page today at Englishrussia.com. Moscow still looked like this for the first six months that I lived there. Then it started to change. Now it looks like Europe.

Cool. This is a portable Beer truck:

Check out the whole site:

English Russia » The Soviet Moscow

As pretty as an Airport

Sun, 18 May 2008 03:10:58 GMT

The assfuckery started early. We had managed to weasel our way past the worst of the security mess, Yulia had found that no one paid any attention to the central checkpoint at Sea-Tac, and as such we avoided a half hour line. As such we had no problem getting to the gate on time, but the problem wasn't the gate, it was our seats.

For some reason when we got our tickets from the airline, we had no seats assigned. We even checked in over the Internet the night before, and still no seats. So we got to the gate early to check with the computer there, and we were scattered all over the plane. The lady running the gate was working to try to get us back together, but apparently we weren't the only scrambled group that day, and it was largely hopeless. Yulia and Lena ended up next to First Class. The Girls were right behind them, I was near the middle of the plane, and Gena was in the last row. Interestingly, this turned out to be a bit of circular luck, as having to listen to toilets flushing for five hours makes one need to piss all the time, and whadda ya know, the bathrooms are right there!

We were doomed.

In my row I has some neurotic mother dressed in cast offs from some Fundamentalist Mormon compound yard sale yelling at her daughter to complete math homework. Once that page was completed a new one was produced, and the yelling would start again. Across the aisle was a small hyperactive Asian child who was in a constant yelling match with his father, and was trying to start a pillow fight with the whole plane.

The drinks service couldn't start soon enough.

Fortunately for us the rear crew was in a particularly good mood, and booze flowed freely. After my first two drinks, I went to the galley in back to hang out with Gena who was chatting up the crew. Yulia joined shortly, and we had a pretty good party going back there. two or three more drinks in and I simply quit caring about the degenerates that I had to sit with.

Meal service didn't make it any better, as we had to buy small cold-cut packs that made the drinks service seem like the deal of the century. To top that off, I kept getting asked what my wife would like. This was coming from the fore crew, who seemed to be populated with 100 year old women, and when I told them, "well, I'm not sure what my wife would like, as she is in a different section of the plane, I got mixed looks of confusion, shame, and horror, which seemed to be two emotions too many for the hind-brains of these old lizards to handle. the shut up and gave me my boxed meats, and I went back to my drink.

I love to fly.

He's not from Spain?

Sat, 10 May 2008 05:49:07 GMT

In general, You don't expect to find a KGB agent on your airplane. Even if you are on your way to Moscow.

Our flight was Seattle to New York, then New York to Moscow. Three of us were going together on this trip, Bob, Paul, and myself. Naturally, when I showed up to the gate, they were, naturally, nowhere to be found. This really was to be expected, much like anyone else, we were up late the night before our big trip doing what anyone else would be doing before a big, exciting trip, pouring cement. Something had prompted Paul to finish some project at the last minute before we left, and in our rush, we had made several mistakes in our forms, leading to lots of spilled concrete, and hours more of work. This left me rather bleary the next day as I was wandering the terminal.

So I hit the bar.

I have written before about the sheer joy that the Airport bar can be, and this was no exception. I have always followed he policy of Never Fly Sober, and this was to be no exception. A few drinks in, and Bob found me at the bar. I would say that he found me by chance, but seriously, at the airport, where else would I be? We threw down a few more beers and it was time to head to our gate. One Problem.

No Paul.

Paul was notorious for being late, and this was no Horizon flight to Portland, if he missed this, then he was really screwed. We left the bar and hung around the gate, watching everyone else load the plane. Bob chatted up the stewardesses working the gate, and I paced about nervously. Finally, as the gates were literally closing, Paul came running down the ramp, arms flailing wildly, shrieking his trademark war cry as he came. With a mix of relief that he made it, and some trepidation that we were now associated with this screaming lunatic, we took our seats.

The rest of the flight was nothing more than drinking, bob trying to pick up the stewardesses, and more drinking. It's not cheap to drink on a plane, but this was an investment we knew would pay dividends. Once the plane landed at JFK, and we were poured out of our seats into the terminal, the trouble began. First off, we were pretty lit, something they really love at airports. Second, our hour and a half layover was cut to about 30 minutes due to the plane being late. Apparently some assholes had slowed down the departure from Seattle. To top it off, our connecting flight was in the international section of JFK, which was all the way across the airport, somewhere in New Jersey. There was no possible way to make it on foot.

We ran out the door to the taxi pickup, and paid a taxi to loop us around the airport to the other wing. Again, running and screaming down the hallway, we made it to the gate at the last possible second. Reluctantly, the stewardesses showed us to our seats, and we were set. Especially once we realized that the drinks on an international flight were free, a move the whole airline would regret.

After a few hours of travel we were starting to get bored and started to introduce ourselves around. pretty much everyone wasn't in a "new friends" mood, but we were tolerated back in the galley, as that kept us from bothering the other passengers. It was there that we met the Spaniard.

The Spaniard was just as drunk as us, and he and Bob hit it off. The Spaniard spoke no English or Russian, but Bob spoke some Spanish, and we all spoke drunk, so we were in. We staggered up and down the aisles between the galleys for a while, laughing like the madmen we were. And getting not the normal dirty looks from the waitstaff, but a much more panicked look. A look of fear. Even I noticed that change after a while.

Finally, the fucking Copilot pulled me aside.

"Hello Sir." he spoke is quiet tones, "Do you or your friends work for the government?"

"muhugga? um What?"

"How do you know that other gentleman?" The copilot had a look of concern on his face that annoyingly sobering.

"You mean the Spaniard? Well, we just me him here. Why?" I was starting to share the concern.

"The gentleman is not from Spain." His tone was getting quieter.

"He's not from Spain?" I was way past confused at this point, "then who is he?"

The copilot pulled me further back into the Galley, "He is an ex-KGB agent who is being released as part of a spy trade. Federal marshals put him on the plane in New York, and informed the crew. Since it was a non-stop flight, they felt no need for an escort. But he didn't believe us. He was pestering us for the first two hours to know who his contact was."

I was dead sober at this point. What the fuck? "Contact?"

The copilot continued, "once you started talking with him, he assumed it was you three, or at least your Spanish speaking friend. It's actually been good for the crew, since it calmed him down, but we felt you needed to know. "

At that point he left. I was still standing with several stewardesses and a big bucket of extra-crispy confusion. I had to figure out what to do. I looked down the aisle, and saw the "Spaniard" in my seat, next to Bob, both laughing maniacally. Paul was in his seat across the aisle, passed out. I had to figure out how to tell Bob.

First, I got more drinks. The adrenaline alone burned off at least the last four drinks, and that wouldn't do. Second, I waited for the Spaniard to take a piss, and deftly stole my own seat back. I smashed down next to Bob, handed him a drink and tried to clue Bob in.

"Dude, this guy's not Spanish, he's KGB."

'What?"

"He's KGB. Spy Swap, just out of prison. The Copilot told me. He thinks you're his contact" I was using my best quiet holy-shit-were-fucked voice.

The words were tough for Bob, but he got the tone.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" Bob whispered back.

I gave him the whole rundown again. and he was stunned.

Well, that explains a lot," Bob said, "He kept asking all this weird shit and giving me looks like I was supposed to know something. Crap! What do we do now?"

We both looked around. Paul was drooling on himself, and a bit on the lady next to him.

"Ha!" said Bob, "Put on your headphones and fake sleep."

Without question I did. We did our best fake snoring, and within a few minutes, the Spaniard was back and trying to wake bob. After a few shakes, he gave up, patted him on the shoulder, and went to his own seat to sleep. It didn't take long for us to pass out for real, only to wake up as we landed.

We were a bit suspicious of the story that we were given by the crew as we left. And we staggered towards Moscow Passport Control drunk, confused, and with a sense of wonder and confusion. As we hit the bottom of the stairs, we saw our Spaniard friend coming down another set of stairs. As he stepped off, a door opened behind him and a small crew of military folk, decorated in full dress uniform, greeted him with hugs and congratulations. He looked over, and saw us in line for Passport Control.

In perfect English, he yelled, "Thanks for the fun. I will see you around Moscow." And with a big smile he left through the little side door.

We stayed in line. The sign over our heads said it all.

"WELCOME TO MOSCOW"

FSU/CIS; it's all still Russia

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 18:41:24 GMT

1993 was a confusing time in the Former Soviet Union, if for no other reason that it was called the Former Soviet Union. It really takes a lot out of a country to lose their name, especially when the new name gets informally replaced with the old name, plus “former”. Commonwealth of Independent States was a name that never really took, it didn't help that none of the independent states could really decide if they were part of the commonwealth or not. So everyone just referred to the place by the old former name, as if the Soviet Union was just like The Artist Formerly Known as Prince, but without that cool symbol. (I suppose they could have used the hammer and sickle, or that shape on Gorbachev’s forehead, but nobody thought of that at the time.)

But I wasn't really going to the Former Soviet Union, which was a nebulous, vague region. I was going to Moscow, and that meant that I was going to Russia.

Russia in this period was less than totally stable, to say the least. This was the time just after Communism, but before capitalism fully took hold. An uneasy mix of old and new was everywhere, Dollars and Rubles were used equally, not because both had the same value, but because anything new and free market was priced in dollars, and anything from the old Soviet system was (heavily subsidized) in Rubles. You could find stores that had an upstairs “Dollars” section, with all the latest western foods, Western prices, and no lines, and a “Rubles” section downstairs, with much of the same foods, subsidized, cheap prices, and the old Soviet “three line” system. Foreigners would shop upstairs and Russians would shop downstairs.

Part of this was predicated on that if you were a foreigner working on Moscow, you made some serious money. My Per Diem was something like $50 a day. Many Russians made that in a month. Most folks I worked with tried to live local and shop where the Russians shopped, part to save money, but also because it was crazy to spend 10 times what you needed to. As it turned out, things were changing so fast that this option started to disappear, old soviet priced places were disappearing by the day, and the whole country was turning western. It was common to spend $10 to eat at McDonalds, and find a state-run cafeteria where you could get lunch for less than a dollar. Pizza Hut had two full restaurants next to each other, one priced in Rubles, and one in Dollars. The Rubles side was cheaper, and had a line to get in, The Dollars side had no line, and you paid a lot more.

This was the first of many dichotomies that I would find while living in Russia.

Rick Steves - My kind of Attitude

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 01:27:47 GMT

Heh. I like Rick Steves' show, but I think there are better travel books out there, but I love his attitude. This article reflects a lot of my thinking on travel.

“Eating five meals a day and still being able to snorkel—that’s not travel, that’s hedonism,” travel guru Rick Steves said last weekend at the Edmonds Center for the Arts. He told a room awash with Gore-tex and purple scarves that if people truly love travel—then they must travel to learn, to advocate for a different approach when they return.
“Is it a noble thing to do—to teach rich white people to travel?” Steves asked about 700 rich white people. Blank stares. He began with slides of Eastern Europeans twirling in town plazas and explained that those affable foreigners hold Fourth of July on different days of the year and they detest the U.S. for its recent audacity in foreign policy. And 700 people nodded. Then he showed a picture of a Scandinavian public restroom that has blue lights inside to prevent junkies from finding their veins and a picture of the syringe dispenser outside, and he spoke of the supervised heroin-injection facilities down the street and said there are fewer overdoses there. He talked about how many people in the Netherlands don’t drive cars at all, and we really need to consider doing these same things in the U.S. And the room became very quiet.

Yulia and I love travel. I think it brings a family closer together, but as I have said before it is how you experience a place that makes the real impact. When you go somewhere, it is so much more enriching to try to speak the language, eat where locals do, and get away from just the tourist spots. This isn't to say that none of the tourist activities are worthy, after all, missing the Eiffel Tower in Paris would be silly, but you can see everything from the top of a tour bus. You also learn more about your home and yourself by seeing things through other's eyes.

I feel I do my best writing when I am away from home, probably because there is just so much more to write about. Both good and bad. (a nightmare at the time is always funny later). This summer we are doing the opposite of what we normally do, we are going to a resort, all-inclusive. It's something that I would normally avoid, just for the reasons above, but since I can't remember when we did something like that last, it becomes new in itself. We will be in Mexico, so hopefully we will get some chance to go out and see the place, away from the resort, but either way, I know that it will be a blast, good fun with the family, and great fodder for the pen.

Travel Is a Continuation of Politics | Slog | The Stranger | Seattle's Only Newspaper

Stand in a cold shower, ripping up $50 bills...

Tue, 04 Sep 2007 05:55:36 GMT

With the difficulty of our trip over we planned out the trip back with a much better route, we shortened all our open water crossings as much as possible, mapped out extra fuel stops, even got a local to tell us the best passages to avoid too much wind.

And it helped.

We made really great time back, and had a much smoother ride as well. Our first major stop (other than a quick fuel-up), was Roche Harbor. This was our midway refuel stop and US Customs location. On the way down we saw seals, dolphins, and just about every bird imaginable. Roche Harbor itself was excellent. It looks like one of those classic movie harbors, with the little church, old hotel, but with 1000 times more boats. This also gave us a chance to pick up some hot food, which was some really nice fish and chips.

We then cruised through the San Juan Islands, Which were equally beautiful looking. That took us to Anacortes, and then through to the Swinomish cut, and past La Conner. This was great, the seas were smooth, we made wonderful time.

And then we hit the sandbar.

The south end of the cut our of La Conner goes through a shallow area, which is marked with several red and green pylons that extend out to several small islands. After these we turned out, and with the low tide, got stuck in the sand. As we now had some time to wait, We walked off the boat, and standing in the water, saw that the pylons extended out well past the island. Crap.

Fortunately for us, this was really soft sand, and an inspection of the boat showed no damage. (Thankfully I wasn't driving this time.) We weren't going all that fast, so the boat wasn't stuck too bad. A few locals came by and, after taking pictures and laughing, told us that the area we were in was pretty much a parking lot of boats all summer. The tide was going up, and they said we should be unstuck in an hour. I thought that if it was so damn common for folks to get stuck, they could put a few more fucking markers out here, but hey, what am I thinking.

We finally floated off after about an hour, and made our way back into the channel. The going was easy, up until about Mukilteo, when the wind started picking up and things got choppy again. We slowed down a bit, but made it back to Shilshole to drop Yulia and the kids off in a half an hour or so. The rest of us then took the boat back to the Locks and towards the Marina, on the south end of Lake Washington.

We hit the locks at just the right time, and had no wait at all. It was dark by now, and we made a slow drive through the canals towards Lake Union. At night, the view on the ship canal is really amazing. You don't appreciate this aspect of the city unless you see it from the water. The whole area is a no wake zone, so It was pretty slow going. We moved at basically a crawl all the way out past Husky Stadium, and under 520. After that we had the open lake.

And that was about the time we saw the lightning storm floating in.

It was off in the distance and we couldn't hear the thunder yet. At this point, I had had enough. We picked up as much safe speed as we could (which wasn't much) and got back to the Marina just before the rain. It took us a bit to unload and secure the boat. In the process one of the bags fell off the dock into the water. It got fished out before sinking, but we were so punch drunk at this point it could have spontaneously burst into flames and we wouldn't have been surprised.

Driving back the lightning started, with at least one strike happening right next to us. Shook the whole car.

I'm sure there is some lesson or fortune cookie saying applicable here but fuck if I want to learn it.

Ford Fairlaine, Fisherman's Detective

Mon, 03 Sep 2007 05:40:30 GMT

Rain.

Holy crap. There is just a shitload of rain this morning. We have plans to go fishing later today, and so far weather like this has just meant rough seas and lots of not fun. I started the morning making French Toast (toast with red wine) and then headed down to the hotel to get the weather report.

This leaves me nervous. I really want this weekend to be a good time for all those involved, partly because I derive joy from those around me, and partly because I don't want to be knifed in my sleep.

The report shows that we are supposed to get clearing weather this afternoon, our fishing charter starts at 2:00. And, we start seeing breaks in the rain, punctuated with big downpours. Mind you, we area looking at six people total for this trip, on two boats. Also, I am the only one who brought a rain coat, let alone pants.

So we go for it. I ordered a taxi to take us to the marina across the island, and stat to search for some kind of wet weather gear. With the local grocery store and the hotel gift shop our only sources, (the liquor store was no help) we managed to scrape up fleece jackets for everyone, and trash bags.

Actually, they were quite fashionable Recycling bags, made of a translucent cobalt blue plastic, which when you cut holes for the arms and legs made a very reasonable poncho.

With sandwiches, beer and extra bags in tow, we got our taxi and made our way out to the other side of the island (As everyone knows, the "other side of the island" should always be feared. on Gilligan's Island the "other Side' had the cannibals and shit. Stay Away. TV can't lie.)

Actually, we met our guides with no issue. The boats were not too small, and both had canvas covers for the cockpit area, so we had some shelter, We headed out of port towards the north end of the island, when our guide asked of we had our permits. As expected, we did not. We were able to stop and correct this at the next marina, and lost little time.

Finally, we reached the cove that was supposed to be the hot fishing spot. Shortly after dropping our lines, we got a hit and pulled in a nice Pink Salmon. The girls named him "Bob". We dropped out lines again and got a hit, which I tried to reel in and lost. A while later we got another hit, which the girls pulled in and got another Pink Salmon. I got another hit and lost it. Needless to say, I was not amused.

We yelled over to the other boat, where our partners in crime were fishing, and they showed us two fish much larger than ours. Yulia yelled back that we had some that big but I had lost them. Crap.

A few minutes later, Yulia looked over at one of the boats around us and was exited to see someone pulling in a dogfish, She was pretty lit up to see that, since it is basically a small shark. she thought this was Tres' cool, and wanted us to catch one as well. Not more than a minute later, I got a hit and finally managed to reel in a fish! Which was a small dogfish, of course.

We managed to avoid most of the worst rain inside the boat, and our silly Trash-bag ponchos worked perfectly. we were dorks, but dry.

This was a pretty big win in and of itself, as Yulia really wanted to see this, and she got her chance. If we had knows how to cook the thing properly, we would have kept it, but since we did not, we threw it back.

A few more circles and we called it a day. Back in port, we had four fish total, two Chinook and two Pink Salmon, and some good stories and better lies. We caught a taxi back to the hotel and grilled up some of our fish and froze the rest.

Fresh fish grilled only hours after being caught is just spectacular. Today turned out much better than I expected. For a change, I was able to do something that really pleased Yulia, even if it was only a dogfish. Thanks Mr. Dogfish. Grilled Salmon helped too.

Heriot Bay Inn and Marina

Sun, 02 Sep 2007 00:40:30 GMT

We finally made it into Heriot Bay. Campbell River is a pretty small, remote place, but Heriot Bay is like the folks who moved away from Campbell River because it was way too busy, and had to find another more remote Canadian Island to live on.

Today's plan was to rest, and recover after our all-night boat experience. The hotel at Heriot bay is pretty much the only thing here. There are a lot of nice vacation homes out here, and a small grocery and liquor store. (hooray!)

We are staying in a nice little cabin with a view of the water, it has two rooms, and a big living room. In the corner is a river rock structure, which kind of looks like a fireplace or stove area, but has a TV there instead. I think we get both Canadian channels.

No phone, no cell reception, and the Internet connection at the hotel works sporadically. It is nice to be isolated for a change.

We took a big walk along the beach, which was filled with oysters, mussels, starfish, and those diving birds that are fun to watch, as they dive and pop up with fish in their mouth.

We found some rail-type structure on the beach that was almost totally rotted away. I'm not sure if it was a dock of some kind for logging or launching boats, or if it just washed up here, but it was pretty cool to look at.

After a nap, we went to the main hotel for dinner, which had surprisingly good food. Apparently they are famous locally (you can get to the island by car ferry) and have a ranked french chef. I had an excellent spinach Cannelloni, Yulia had salmon steamed in parchment, and we had some fantastic scallops and mussels to start.

The only downside was that they had a pretty shallow wine list. I keep better wines in my desk at work. We finally found an Italian Valpolicella that wasn't too bad. This would be the downside of having a great wine collection at home, you really notice the absence of good wines at other places, in France there was always a good inexpensive wine on the list, usually the House wine was something that was simple, but great. But not here.

In the evening we hit the local store and bought a Cribbage set. I attempted to teach us all cribbage, since the set came with the basic rules. Cribbage is just none step away from Star Trek's Fizzbin, with this Byzantine set of rules that seem to change each time I read them, but after a few hands we started to get the hang of it. We were too beat to finish the game, and just sacked out.

It Looked Good on Paper

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 08:40:30 GMT

Few things are more peaceful that sitting out on a boat, floating is the quiet of night, watching the stars and hearing the quiet sounds of water lapping about the boat.

That is, of course, unless the reason that you are floating in the middle of the channel is because you ran out of gas at 1:30 am in the middle of Canada.

"To anyone who can hear my voice, boat in need of assistance, White Bayliner off the end of Quadra island. Out of gas. Over."

Fuck.

The perfect end to the perfect day. You know when you fuck shit up for yourself, it's not too hard to ignore it. You can pretend that you didn't delete that hard disk of you favorite crap, most stains wash out, The cat can always use it's other eye, but when you are stuck on a boat, with no gas, within arm's reach of your destination, and those on your trip have nothing to do but look at you, that's a real drag.

The day was supposed to be a cool trip by boat from Shilshole up to Campbell River. (this was doable according to a website for marine trip planning, which is obviously some practical joke to torture those who use it. )

Right out of Shilshole the weather turned from hot sun to light rain and lots of wind. That combined with hitting the tides led to huge waves in the channel, and slowed our boat to a crawl. It was too late to go inside Whidbey Island by the time things got nasty, so we just had to tough it out.

We finally made it to the Straight where we could turn into the San Juans for some protection from the waves, and things slowly got better. The water calmed and the sun came out. What a beautiful area. We kept to some protected passages in order to make the ride smoother, and finally made it, quite late, to Point Roberts, our first gas-up point.

Things started to get rough again as we crossed over to Vancouver Island, and sought shelter in some of the smaller passages that lead up along Vancouver to Nanaimo. At Nanaimo we checked in with Customs , which took long enough that It started to get dark at that point.

Needless to say, sticking it out at Nanaimo would have been a much better plan. But with the smooth water we had, it shouldn't have taken more than two hours or so to get to our final destination.

Then the wind kicked up again.

aside from the waves it was blowing in exactly the wrong direction for us to get around one of the islands that were in our path, and it literally took hours to get around.

It was easy to track where we were using the GPS, but we just couldn't make any good time in the dark. Finally, I was able to find a cruise ship to follow, which smoothed the path ahead of us. All the time, the gas looked fine. But as we got closer to our destination, the gas seemed to start dropping quicker. It could also be that the wind tilting the boat gave a false reading, but the net effect was that it was apparent that we weren't going to make it all the way. I started to head us towards shore, hoping to find a marina, or somewhere to dock, but we ran out in the dead center of the shipping lane.

The Coast Guard responded, and after 30 minutes, told us that they should have a boat out to tow us in 30 minutes. 30 minutes later, we got word that the coast Guard boat had a failed engine, and they had another launch heading our way, with an ETA of 30 minutes.

Then we saw the cruise ship.

Bearing down on us in the middle of the channel was yet another cruise ship. This was disconcerting. I radioed the Coast guard again, and they said the the ship was already aware of our location, and to please turn on our spotlights so they don't rush us by accident. Oh, and this was the Canadian Coast Guard, so add "eh" to everything.

By now, we were cold. I was cold before, but sitting out with no fuel for heat was really getting noticeable. Once the Coast guard offered to tow us in to port we were glad to get below decks and huddle up for heat. About that time I just plain passed out.

When I woke, the Coast guard boat had been towing us for about 30 minutes, and was radioing us because their GPS system failed, and fog had rolled in, making the Marina almost impossible to find.

Our GPS didn't show the Marina, so we all just drove back and forth until they could see the entrance. Finally we were tied up at the fuel dock, which opened at 6 am. Fortunately that was only two hours away, so we didn't have to wait long. Or didn't get to sleep long. I can't remember which.

On the way back, we will be refilling the boat at the half-tank point, duh. Also, we will be taking all the inside passages I just hope the weather is good.

"A Learning Experience is when the universe says, "You know that thing you just did? Don't ever do it again."
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