Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
New Series
Hi folks of the blogging world. I must apologize for my previous posting. Now that I read it myself, I realize it was extremely hard to read, and had a lot of unnecessary personal junk filler that you don't need to know. Over the next few postings, I'm going to attempt to keep it simple, short, and more interesting. Getting back to basics, as it were.
Keep your eyes peeled here!
Neal
Thursday, May 13, 2010
It's Been A Long Time...
...Since I Wrote A Blog Post!
Cue crazy rock music from my parents era.
Yeah, but it's definitely been a while. Whew! But a lot of things have happened since my last posting, so now at least I'll have a few good solid postings filled with interesting and compelling material with which to sink your literary teeth into. Such will be the words of my musings, that your brain will liken it to buttermilk tarts, venison smoked on an open fire, and the finest wines from the vineyards of Europe (complete with toe jam from those who trample the grapes). Your soul will be filled with longing for more, like an addiction, or lusting.
Or, instead, you'll just come back next time for another blog posting. Sound better? Good, then off we go!
Sitting down to this posting, I must first regale you with my most recent findings on the nature of the human body. Now, far be it from me to claim to be an expert on the human body. Far from it. I know very little about a veritable mountain of information available about the great machine that is the human body. But through recent experience and deprivation, i have discovered another two items about myself that I never thought possible.
Number one, I can safely and accurately function without proper sleep for days on end. While I am loathe to admit this, as my father will surely be reading this and be hearkening to awake me at ungodly hours once I get home, it is sadly true. No more can I use the excuse, I need my sleep. Frankly, sleep has now become a brief respite to the wonders and realities of the waking world; And undisturbed sleep, well, that is truly a dream without peer. I do not believe I can recall a time in recent history where I have attained a full night of undisturbed sleep, well, anything over 4 hours. Unfortunate, yes, but enlightening also. I've proven to myself that while uncomfortable and taxing, I can function quite well over the course of three to four days on minimal to know sleep, only rest. It's almost a meditative thing, though I wish i could make the time fly faster. At the writing of this blog it's actually 5:45AM, an ungodly hour if ever there was one. I would not have realized it existed save for the many ski trips I've taken over the years, as well as last night when I spent the entire night awake. At 4AM I simply could not take lying in bed and wide awake, so I marched down to the hotel lobby to finish my book. That nearly completed, I had to occupy my thoughts further with some typing, as my eyes were starting to grow blurry and the couch too comfortable. Considering I'm not supposed to be in this hotel, only at the behest of my friend here on business, I consider falling asleep in the lobby a bad thing.
Dad, if you wake me up at 5 when I get home, I will be forced to beat you, regardless of how fit you've become and how badly you will now be beating me at running.
That's another thing that I've found. Ok, so now make it three things. I'll be re-visiting the fact of my ever-changing demeanor towards life, stress, and what really matters. I touched on it briefly in the last blog post. But the other item that just caught my attention was my latent fitness. While my father has been training diligently during my absence as his running partner in crime, I've been wandering aimlessly around cities for hours on end. But with that, I've tried to get to a climbing gym once or twice, and I did go out for two runs. Funny thing, that even though I haven't done a lick of training for months, I've actually help up pretty well. Sure, my strength is a lot to be desired, but somehow it doesn't feel like I've lost too much in the process. In fact, it feels like I'm losing all the unnecessary, and keeping only what's needed for my activities. I mean, heck, if I can still run for over thirty minutes without breaking much of a sweat, I still think I'm doing alright. Although, with my new love of climbing, I may have to harass the YMCA to see where they put their climbing apparatus. Blasted move of location took away my climbing wall. Buggers. They should have set it up down in the park as a bouldering wall. It would have been a great move for the city, but of course, they'd never think of that. But in any case, it is rather interesting to still be able to do things that I could do before, albeit at a lesser extent. The more I learn about how the body operated, both through experience and through classical learning, the more I'm amazed at the biological machine we've been graced with. Maybe I'll get into the health industry one day, maybe not. That actually brings me to my final point.
I spoke last time about how I've been altering my thinking patterns as I go. The real crux of the matter, is that not one year ago, actually, less than a year ago, if I thought too much about the lack of obvious direction in my life, or comparing myself to my hitched, successful, or otherwise job-oriented peers, I would have gone into a hyperventilating fit. Well, maybe not quite as bad as I described, but certainly not far off it. I was a complete mess at times, and had to go with the reliable "Dad-on-the-other-end-of-a-phone" treatment to calm me down. It works, but I think that since I'm 24 now, I should be able to handle most things without too much guidance. Wait until I end up tying the knot. Whew, Dad's gonna need another mortgage for that phone bill. Ha ha ha. But in any case, I've found that circumstances and situations that would have caused me to freak out before, are just not fazing me as much any more. For example, I lost a 32 Gigabyte iPod touch within my first 12 hours of being in Australia. Of course it was fully loaded and I had bought songs and such from iTunes on the way. Gotta have some variety, right? Was I upset, oh yeah! But after the next day when I went searching for the expensive mini-jukebox, I didn't think about it much more than that. The same thing when arriving in town with no place to stay, like I did in Tokyo. Normally, a cause for distress; Now, a cause for a brief look around and a good walk to find where I'm going to lay my head for the evening. And the final one, the bastard of them all, is monetary! Normally, a lack of funds would cause my blood to freeze, my veins to run cold, and my heart beat in palpitations so fast a hummingbird's wings would seem slow by comparison. I think now, I'm finally fully coming to terms with not having money, and even being in debt. For the first time in my life, I actually owe serious amounts of cash to a cash-flow institution. Mastercard and Visa are gonna love me when I get back, as every waking moment will be spend tryin to pay off the blasted cards. But strangely, no panic! I've finally got some of the monetary maturity that people like my Mom, Dad, Aiden and Frank Coleman, and other successful people in my life have possessed for quite some time. It's a remarkable sensation, knowing that even though you owe money, I have the abilities and knowledge to get myself out of the situation and back into the black. Red's only a good color when we're talking about blood and shirts.
Well, enough about personal musings. Time for the stuff you've been waiting for. You didn't come to this website to read my personal growth entries, otherwise I label thee stalkers of the first degree! I jest. But no, you came here to read my musings and observations on what I've seen, heard, smelt, tasted, and touched. Well, I've got plenty of info to update you on, and lots to talk about. Unfortunately, I just realized (now that my brain has activated after eating some of the hotel breakfast that I'm not supposed to eat, or even be staying at. Shhhhhh,) that I have packed my previous Moleskin notepad in my travel bag which is upstairs in the room, that I probably shouldn't go up to until later. Gah! Alright, well, maybe I can update you in a less than chronological order then. Sound good? Ok, to Japan it is, and we'll visit the rest of Australia and Taronga Zoo another day.
I started a new notepad when I headed to Tokyo, as the other one finally ran out. I tell ya, those notebooks Mike gave me are the best investment ever. Thanks Mike! Oh, which reminds me, I gotta call him and wish him happy birthday. He's 25 today! Wow, how time flies. Be right back, gotta make a phone call.
Ok, I'm back. Mike, you never picked up. Of course, that's understandable for a guy in your position. Crazy amount of work coming your way still I would surmise. I'll try calling after work. Got the timer on my watch set and everything.
As I was saying, I started my new notebook when I was getting ready to head to Tokyo for a 24 hour stopover, then up to Vancouver. yes, I'm back in Canada. Gotta get some visa stuff ready to jobs in South Korea. Me's gonna be un English teacher, hyuk! Or so I hope. I'll jsut keep firing off resumes, and since they don't start till August, well, most of them, I should be able to get in with a Public School of my choosing. No Hagwons for me, uh uh. Not with the horror stories I've read and heard about them. But yeah, the notebook, right. I took the liberty of writing down everything I wanted to see in the time I was there. It included the following:
As a separate note, I think that all airlines should be forced to install cameras down by the landing gear. It was so cool to watch on the TV screens int he jet as the plane taxied down the runway and then lifted off. It was especially cool when they turned on the downward facing camera as well, so you could see the ground getting smaller and smaller. I only wish that they would leave that downward camera, or even the front-facing one, on while they landed. Now that would be a rush to see. Although, I suppose it would cause a smattering of discomfort to some of the more flight-sensitive clientele. Bah on them! Still, cool feature, get it!
Right, landing in Tokyo was another experience altogether. I don't even remember if there was a customs department going in or out of the country. Couldn't tell you at all. I've completely forgotten. Ha ha ha. I do, however, remember the lady who helped me at the customer service desk. For the life of me, I can't remember her name (still haven't got much better with that task) but I do remember her service. She was, by far, the best customer service representative I've ever had, in any country, in any business area. Hands down. She was just so, cheery, helpful and took care of everything I needed. She's definitely the benchmark for all customer service agents. And what's more, she spoke English better than I did! Bonus! Still, this young lady gave me four or five different maps, set up my lodgings for the night, showed me where to store my baggage at the airport, and even gave me suggestions on where to go and what to do based on kind of night-life I wanted to have. Kudos!
So, I ended up staying in the Asakusa district, near the temples and gates that surround the more traditional-styled area. There was this little place, and even now I don't have my camera on me so I can't tell you the name, but it was of a more traditional style room. About $60 buck or so for a one person room, but done with tatami floors and low tea tables and the like. Now, while the futon was thin, the floors hard-ish, the tea pot amazing and the noise outside the window rather quiet for a busy area, I have to comment mostly on the bathroom. While I've heard of space-saving endeavors, I believe the Japanese have it figured out better than anyone else in the world. I believe the dimensions of the room were 6 ft high (maybe), 5-6 ft deep (to the back of the tub from the door), and about 4 feet wide (If that. From one shoulder to my fingers on my other arm outstretched.) Basically, anyone taller or wider than me, and they ain't gonna fit! The tap system was quite ingenious though, running both the shower and sink on one tap. Great way of saving space and money. Oh, and you know how if we put water in thermos' back in Canada, 9 chances out of 10 if you check it the next day it won't be hot? Well, save for very expensive tea kettles and water bottles at least. Well, the one that was in my room was already filled with water when i got there, piping hot, and when I checked it the next morning in order to have some green tea (I'm in japan, gotta do it) it was still hot enough for tea! Fantastic!
Then it was off to wander. I started my day quite early, somewhere in the viscinity of 6 and 7, and headed out the door to the Hozomon and Kaminarimon gates leading to the Sensoji temple. The area has been turned into a great tourist attraction, what with the long walkway leading through the two gates up to the temple being lined off with whatever shops you can imagine. I only caught a glimpse of what was there, as when I arrived all the shops were pretty much closed down, and when I got up the next morning I was already moved on to another district by the time they opened up around 10. I did get to say a prayer at Sensoji temple though, and watch the monks do pieces of their ceremonies and chants. Quite cool! They now have a few of my previous yen in the temple coffers. No pictures though, uot of respect, and the big glaring sign of a camera with a cross through it.
The night before, I have wandered around the area, trying not to get lost too often, and began to notice things. First off, I got drawn in to try one of the video game arcades they had. Hey, I'm in Japan, pretty much the birthplace of all things cool and technological, so sue me! But yeah, they had some crazy games like a full 3D Mech Game, a full-Sized DJ game that puts DJ Hero to shame, and even a Japanese drumming game that was waaaay more fun than any DDR or Band Hero game ever invented. I want one...of everything! Next door there was even a batting cage and caged-in mini soccer field for 5 or five or three on three games. Quite great ideas, and definitely something I'll be partaking of when I visit next time. Oh yes, there will be a next time, have no fear. I have a list of some of the stuff I could make a killing off in arcades back home. But, I digress in my geek-ness.
After the temple district, and my breakfast at McDonalds in one of the alleyways next tot he temple, it was off to find the legendary Akihabara, mecca of all things Geekery. From machines to Manga, it was all there. Anything you could possibly want to own, view, or even just stare at could be found, but not if you weren't looking for it. For example, more of the signs outside shops were in Japanese, of course, while some had English subtexts posted on them as well. They all look pretty simple from the outside...until you realize that each one has 7 to 8 floors, plus a floor or two underground, and all are filled with different wares. Oh yeah, now we're talking Space Savers R Us on an entirely different level. I ended up in one of the major arcades there, where they had an Anime expo/info area as well, just under all the offices that towered above in the same building. Again, since it wasn't open at the time, I never got to see that part of the builsing. But that's not the point. The point is, I found God's Toilet!
Oh yes, do not be fooled by imitators people. I have found God's Toilet, for if any god or diety or supernatural being ever owned a toilet, it would be Japanese in make. The think had a heated seat. A heat seat! Let me rephrase that again...no, that just about does it. A heated seat! Holy crap that was cool! And then there were heated water jets to clear out your bottom, and differing pressure controls depending on if you wanted to be dampened, cleaned out from 'arse' to ears, or jettisoned off the seat into the stratosphere...or the office above. But yeah, enough on the toilet. Five or six lines of text on something you crap in is enough.
Then I wandered off to hit up downtown Shinjuku, but on the way, I stopped off at the Imperial Palace area. Bloody hell, that place is big, and I mean properly big. You could walk for an hour and not circumvent it. And of course, I didn't. Once I found out that it was closed on Mondays (curse it all), I immediately toddled off towards Shinjuku. On the way, I privately mused about three items. The first being, how safe I felt in Japan. There's a police box pretty much on every street corner, and they're all so bloody professional and friendly. More than once during my arrival night I asked them to point me in the right direction, which they did with a bow and a smile. Quite great blokes them. And ladies too, I did get directions from one of the female cops as well. She was pretty! Ahem, right them, second item of thought provocation was the cleanliness of the city. While there were cleaners everwhere, I wouldhave thought a place with millions upon millions of people in such a packed area would have been a little bit dirty. Au Contraire, the whole city was cleaner than back home...or anywhere for that matter. Probably the cleanest city I've seen in a long time. Number three! I have to say, this struck me the hardest. Anywhere I've gone so far, there's been at least a good share of foreigners and Caucasian people. So honestly, I kinda blended in. However, after stepping off the plane in Tokyo, I had to say,
"Neal, we are not in Kansas anymore!"
It's the first time I've truly felt like a foreigner in a strange land. But still, best damn experience I've had in a long time. And the shopkeepers, my god! They're all so polite, even if they don't want to be. Everyone working there welcomes you as you enter, says goodbye when you leave, and are smiling all the time. Well, except for one poor white girl working in a tourist-themed gift shop on the 7th floor, she looked like she had not woken up yet. She's forgiven!
Unfortunately, this was the end of my tour around Tokyo, as once I got to Shinjuku, I had to get back on the train headed for the airport for being late for an international flight is a definite no no. Though, I don't know what I was worrying for. The Japanese airport was more efficient than a McDonald lineup. Actually, I think I got signed in and through security faster than i usually get served at any fast food joint, including drive-through services. Every airport service personnel who's reading this, I want you to get on a plight to Tokyo and see for yourself. Now go!
Ya know, for as much of a pain as it is to have to head back home, even if it is to get paperwork done in hopes of heading to Korea soon, it's good to have people put it in perspective for you. If you're reading this, you know who you are. They pointed out that I've circumvented the world, almost. Once I hit home, I will have. Crazy stuff eh? When you put it in that kind of perspective, not 100 years ago that would have been a huge undertaking. Today it merely requires money, patience, and a really comfortable seat. And really, it's not even that much money. I travelled to a hell of a lot of places, covering Toronto, Cuba, Barcelona, Venice, Frankfurt, Berlin, London, Singapore, Perth, Sydney, Tokyo, Vancouver, and Regina all for about $10,000. And I didn't even try and save too much money. I bought gifts to bring or send home, I stayed in proper bug-free lodgings (most of the time) and ate very well. I was entertained, traveled when I wanted, and never quibbled too much about costs of transport. It really makes a lot more sense, when you put it that way. Thanks for the sagely advice. Once again, you're still the wiser one of us two.
Right then, before I go, I have a comment for you to ponder over. You've probably all heard of the 9 circles of hell, or was it 7. In any case, I believe I've found the lowest circle of hell. It involves extended length, non-stop flights, with no food to eat, and crying children all around.
Later days,
Neal
Cue crazy rock music from my parents era.
Yeah, but it's definitely been a while. Whew! But a lot of things have happened since my last posting, so now at least I'll have a few good solid postings filled with interesting and compelling material with which to sink your literary teeth into. Such will be the words of my musings, that your brain will liken it to buttermilk tarts, venison smoked on an open fire, and the finest wines from the vineyards of Europe (complete with toe jam from those who trample the grapes). Your soul will be filled with longing for more, like an addiction, or lusting.
Or, instead, you'll just come back next time for another blog posting. Sound better? Good, then off we go!
Sitting down to this posting, I must first regale you with my most recent findings on the nature of the human body. Now, far be it from me to claim to be an expert on the human body. Far from it. I know very little about a veritable mountain of information available about the great machine that is the human body. But through recent experience and deprivation, i have discovered another two items about myself that I never thought possible.
Number one, I can safely and accurately function without proper sleep for days on end. While I am loathe to admit this, as my father will surely be reading this and be hearkening to awake me at ungodly hours once I get home, it is sadly true. No more can I use the excuse, I need my sleep. Frankly, sleep has now become a brief respite to the wonders and realities of the waking world; And undisturbed sleep, well, that is truly a dream without peer. I do not believe I can recall a time in recent history where I have attained a full night of undisturbed sleep, well, anything over 4 hours. Unfortunate, yes, but enlightening also. I've proven to myself that while uncomfortable and taxing, I can function quite well over the course of three to four days on minimal to know sleep, only rest. It's almost a meditative thing, though I wish i could make the time fly faster. At the writing of this blog it's actually 5:45AM, an ungodly hour if ever there was one. I would not have realized it existed save for the many ski trips I've taken over the years, as well as last night when I spent the entire night awake. At 4AM I simply could not take lying in bed and wide awake, so I marched down to the hotel lobby to finish my book. That nearly completed, I had to occupy my thoughts further with some typing, as my eyes were starting to grow blurry and the couch too comfortable. Considering I'm not supposed to be in this hotel, only at the behest of my friend here on business, I consider falling asleep in the lobby a bad thing.
Dad, if you wake me up at 5 when I get home, I will be forced to beat you, regardless of how fit you've become and how badly you will now be beating me at running.
That's another thing that I've found. Ok, so now make it three things. I'll be re-visiting the fact of my ever-changing demeanor towards life, stress, and what really matters. I touched on it briefly in the last blog post. But the other item that just caught my attention was my latent fitness. While my father has been training diligently during my absence as his running partner in crime, I've been wandering aimlessly around cities for hours on end. But with that, I've tried to get to a climbing gym once or twice, and I did go out for two runs. Funny thing, that even though I haven't done a lick of training for months, I've actually help up pretty well. Sure, my strength is a lot to be desired, but somehow it doesn't feel like I've lost too much in the process. In fact, it feels like I'm losing all the unnecessary, and keeping only what's needed for my activities. I mean, heck, if I can still run for over thirty minutes without breaking much of a sweat, I still think I'm doing alright. Although, with my new love of climbing, I may have to harass the YMCA to see where they put their climbing apparatus. Blasted move of location took away my climbing wall. Buggers. They should have set it up down in the park as a bouldering wall. It would have been a great move for the city, but of course, they'd never think of that. But in any case, it is rather interesting to still be able to do things that I could do before, albeit at a lesser extent. The more I learn about how the body operated, both through experience and through classical learning, the more I'm amazed at the biological machine we've been graced with. Maybe I'll get into the health industry one day, maybe not. That actually brings me to my final point.
I spoke last time about how I've been altering my thinking patterns as I go. The real crux of the matter, is that not one year ago, actually, less than a year ago, if I thought too much about the lack of obvious direction in my life, or comparing myself to my hitched, successful, or otherwise job-oriented peers, I would have gone into a hyperventilating fit. Well, maybe not quite as bad as I described, but certainly not far off it. I was a complete mess at times, and had to go with the reliable "Dad-on-the-other-end-of-a-phone" treatment to calm me down. It works, but I think that since I'm 24 now, I should be able to handle most things without too much guidance. Wait until I end up tying the knot. Whew, Dad's gonna need another mortgage for that phone bill. Ha ha ha. But in any case, I've found that circumstances and situations that would have caused me to freak out before, are just not fazing me as much any more. For example, I lost a 32 Gigabyte iPod touch within my first 12 hours of being in Australia. Of course it was fully loaded and I had bought songs and such from iTunes on the way. Gotta have some variety, right? Was I upset, oh yeah! But after the next day when I went searching for the expensive mini-jukebox, I didn't think about it much more than that. The same thing when arriving in town with no place to stay, like I did in Tokyo. Normally, a cause for distress; Now, a cause for a brief look around and a good walk to find where I'm going to lay my head for the evening. And the final one, the bastard of them all, is monetary! Normally, a lack of funds would cause my blood to freeze, my veins to run cold, and my heart beat in palpitations so fast a hummingbird's wings would seem slow by comparison. I think now, I'm finally fully coming to terms with not having money, and even being in debt. For the first time in my life, I actually owe serious amounts of cash to a cash-flow institution. Mastercard and Visa are gonna love me when I get back, as every waking moment will be spend tryin to pay off the blasted cards. But strangely, no panic! I've finally got some of the monetary maturity that people like my Mom, Dad, Aiden and Frank Coleman, and other successful people in my life have possessed for quite some time. It's a remarkable sensation, knowing that even though you owe money, I have the abilities and knowledge to get myself out of the situation and back into the black. Red's only a good color when we're talking about blood and shirts.
Well, enough about personal musings. Time for the stuff you've been waiting for. You didn't come to this website to read my personal growth entries, otherwise I label thee stalkers of the first degree! I jest. But no, you came here to read my musings and observations on what I've seen, heard, smelt, tasted, and touched. Well, I've got plenty of info to update you on, and lots to talk about. Unfortunately, I just realized (now that my brain has activated after eating some of the hotel breakfast that I'm not supposed to eat, or even be staying at. Shhhhhh,) that I have packed my previous Moleskin notepad in my travel bag which is upstairs in the room, that I probably shouldn't go up to until later. Gah! Alright, well, maybe I can update you in a less than chronological order then. Sound good? Ok, to Japan it is, and we'll visit the rest of Australia and Taronga Zoo another day.
I started a new notepad when I headed to Tokyo, as the other one finally ran out. I tell ya, those notebooks Mike gave me are the best investment ever. Thanks Mike! Oh, which reminds me, I gotta call him and wish him happy birthday. He's 25 today! Wow, how time flies. Be right back, gotta make a phone call.
Ok, I'm back. Mike, you never picked up. Of course, that's understandable for a guy in your position. Crazy amount of work coming your way still I would surmise. I'll try calling after work. Got the timer on my watch set and everything.
As I was saying, I started my new notebook when I was getting ready to head to Tokyo for a 24 hour stopover, then up to Vancouver. yes, I'm back in Canada. Gotta get some visa stuff ready to jobs in South Korea. Me's gonna be un English teacher, hyuk! Or so I hope. I'll jsut keep firing off resumes, and since they don't start till August, well, most of them, I should be able to get in with a Public School of my choosing. No Hagwons for me, uh uh. Not with the horror stories I've read and heard about them. But yeah, the notebook, right. I took the liberty of writing down everything I wanted to see in the time I was there. It included the following:
- Akihabara (Tech District)
- Asakusa(Temples, tourist shops)
- Imperial Palace (Royalty, duh!)
- Kokusaitenjojijo (Toyko Big Sight, some famous architectural building I read about online.)
- Roppongi (Cosmopolitan at its finest, more tourists than locals. Hard to fathom that.)
- Ryogoku/Kokugikan (Sumos!)
- Shinjuku (Neon and nightlife. Partay!)
- Kabuki-cho (Red light district. What? I haven't hit Amsterdam yet.)
- Yoyogi park (Veritable freakish fashion show by the locals every day, not on purpose.)
- Tusikiji (Fish market. Just don't eat anything.)
- Harajuku (Meiji Jingu Temple)
As a separate note, I think that all airlines should be forced to install cameras down by the landing gear. It was so cool to watch on the TV screens int he jet as the plane taxied down the runway and then lifted off. It was especially cool when they turned on the downward facing camera as well, so you could see the ground getting smaller and smaller. I only wish that they would leave that downward camera, or even the front-facing one, on while they landed. Now that would be a rush to see. Although, I suppose it would cause a smattering of discomfort to some of the more flight-sensitive clientele. Bah on them! Still, cool feature, get it!
Right, landing in Tokyo was another experience altogether. I don't even remember if there was a customs department going in or out of the country. Couldn't tell you at all. I've completely forgotten. Ha ha ha. I do, however, remember the lady who helped me at the customer service desk. For the life of me, I can't remember her name (still haven't got much better with that task) but I do remember her service. She was, by far, the best customer service representative I've ever had, in any country, in any business area. Hands down. She was just so, cheery, helpful and took care of everything I needed. She's definitely the benchmark for all customer service agents. And what's more, she spoke English better than I did! Bonus! Still, this young lady gave me four or five different maps, set up my lodgings for the night, showed me where to store my baggage at the airport, and even gave me suggestions on where to go and what to do based on kind of night-life I wanted to have. Kudos!
So, I ended up staying in the Asakusa district, near the temples and gates that surround the more traditional-styled area. There was this little place, and even now I don't have my camera on me so I can't tell you the name, but it was of a more traditional style room. About $60 buck or so for a one person room, but done with tatami floors and low tea tables and the like. Now, while the futon was thin, the floors hard-ish, the tea pot amazing and the noise outside the window rather quiet for a busy area, I have to comment mostly on the bathroom. While I've heard of space-saving endeavors, I believe the Japanese have it figured out better than anyone else in the world. I believe the dimensions of the room were 6 ft high (maybe), 5-6 ft deep (to the back of the tub from the door), and about 4 feet wide (If that. From one shoulder to my fingers on my other arm outstretched.) Basically, anyone taller or wider than me, and they ain't gonna fit! The tap system was quite ingenious though, running both the shower and sink on one tap. Great way of saving space and money. Oh, and you know how if we put water in thermos' back in Canada, 9 chances out of 10 if you check it the next day it won't be hot? Well, save for very expensive tea kettles and water bottles at least. Well, the one that was in my room was already filled with water when i got there, piping hot, and when I checked it the next morning in order to have some green tea (I'm in japan, gotta do it) it was still hot enough for tea! Fantastic!
Then it was off to wander. I started my day quite early, somewhere in the viscinity of 6 and 7, and headed out the door to the Hozomon and Kaminarimon gates leading to the Sensoji temple. The area has been turned into a great tourist attraction, what with the long walkway leading through the two gates up to the temple being lined off with whatever shops you can imagine. I only caught a glimpse of what was there, as when I arrived all the shops were pretty much closed down, and when I got up the next morning I was already moved on to another district by the time they opened up around 10. I did get to say a prayer at Sensoji temple though, and watch the monks do pieces of their ceremonies and chants. Quite cool! They now have a few of my previous yen in the temple coffers. No pictures though, uot of respect, and the big glaring sign of a camera with a cross through it.
The night before, I have wandered around the area, trying not to get lost too often, and began to notice things. First off, I got drawn in to try one of the video game arcades they had. Hey, I'm in Japan, pretty much the birthplace of all things cool and technological, so sue me! But yeah, they had some crazy games like a full 3D Mech Game, a full-Sized DJ game that puts DJ Hero to shame, and even a Japanese drumming game that was waaaay more fun than any DDR or Band Hero game ever invented. I want one...of everything! Next door there was even a batting cage and caged-in mini soccer field for 5 or five or three on three games. Quite great ideas, and definitely something I'll be partaking of when I visit next time. Oh yes, there will be a next time, have no fear. I have a list of some of the stuff I could make a killing off in arcades back home. But, I digress in my geek-ness.
After the temple district, and my breakfast at McDonalds in one of the alleyways next tot he temple, it was off to find the legendary Akihabara, mecca of all things Geekery. From machines to Manga, it was all there. Anything you could possibly want to own, view, or even just stare at could be found, but not if you weren't looking for it. For example, more of the signs outside shops were in Japanese, of course, while some had English subtexts posted on them as well. They all look pretty simple from the outside...until you realize that each one has 7 to 8 floors, plus a floor or two underground, and all are filled with different wares. Oh yeah, now we're talking Space Savers R Us on an entirely different level. I ended up in one of the major arcades there, where they had an Anime expo/info area as well, just under all the offices that towered above in the same building. Again, since it wasn't open at the time, I never got to see that part of the builsing. But that's not the point. The point is, I found God's Toilet!
Oh yes, do not be fooled by imitators people. I have found God's Toilet, for if any god or diety or supernatural being ever owned a toilet, it would be Japanese in make. The think had a heated seat. A heat seat! Let me rephrase that again...no, that just about does it. A heated seat! Holy crap that was cool! And then there were heated water jets to clear out your bottom, and differing pressure controls depending on if you wanted to be dampened, cleaned out from 'arse' to ears, or jettisoned off the seat into the stratosphere...or the office above. But yeah, enough on the toilet. Five or six lines of text on something you crap in is enough.
Then I wandered off to hit up downtown Shinjuku, but on the way, I stopped off at the Imperial Palace area. Bloody hell, that place is big, and I mean properly big. You could walk for an hour and not circumvent it. And of course, I didn't. Once I found out that it was closed on Mondays (curse it all), I immediately toddled off towards Shinjuku. On the way, I privately mused about three items. The first being, how safe I felt in Japan. There's a police box pretty much on every street corner, and they're all so bloody professional and friendly. More than once during my arrival night I asked them to point me in the right direction, which they did with a bow and a smile. Quite great blokes them. And ladies too, I did get directions from one of the female cops as well. She was pretty! Ahem, right them, second item of thought provocation was the cleanliness of the city. While there were cleaners everwhere, I wouldhave thought a place with millions upon millions of people in such a packed area would have been a little bit dirty. Au Contraire, the whole city was cleaner than back home...or anywhere for that matter. Probably the cleanest city I've seen in a long time. Number three! I have to say, this struck me the hardest. Anywhere I've gone so far, there's been at least a good share of foreigners and Caucasian people. So honestly, I kinda blended in. However, after stepping off the plane in Tokyo, I had to say,
"Neal, we are not in Kansas anymore!"
It's the first time I've truly felt like a foreigner in a strange land. But still, best damn experience I've had in a long time. And the shopkeepers, my god! They're all so polite, even if they don't want to be. Everyone working there welcomes you as you enter, says goodbye when you leave, and are smiling all the time. Well, except for one poor white girl working in a tourist-themed gift shop on the 7th floor, she looked like she had not woken up yet. She's forgiven!
Unfortunately, this was the end of my tour around Tokyo, as once I got to Shinjuku, I had to get back on the train headed for the airport for being late for an international flight is a definite no no. Though, I don't know what I was worrying for. The Japanese airport was more efficient than a McDonald lineup. Actually, I think I got signed in and through security faster than i usually get served at any fast food joint, including drive-through services. Every airport service personnel who's reading this, I want you to get on a plight to Tokyo and see for yourself. Now go!
Ya know, for as much of a pain as it is to have to head back home, even if it is to get paperwork done in hopes of heading to Korea soon, it's good to have people put it in perspective for you. If you're reading this, you know who you are. They pointed out that I've circumvented the world, almost. Once I hit home, I will have. Crazy stuff eh? When you put it in that kind of perspective, not 100 years ago that would have been a huge undertaking. Today it merely requires money, patience, and a really comfortable seat. And really, it's not even that much money. I travelled to a hell of a lot of places, covering Toronto, Cuba, Barcelona, Venice, Frankfurt, Berlin, London, Singapore, Perth, Sydney, Tokyo, Vancouver, and Regina all for about $10,000. And I didn't even try and save too much money. I bought gifts to bring or send home, I stayed in proper bug-free lodgings (most of the time) and ate very well. I was entertained, traveled when I wanted, and never quibbled too much about costs of transport. It really makes a lot more sense, when you put it that way. Thanks for the sagely advice. Once again, you're still the wiser one of us two.
Right then, before I go, I have a comment for you to ponder over. You've probably all heard of the 9 circles of hell, or was it 7. In any case, I believe I've found the lowest circle of hell. It involves extended length, non-stop flights, with no food to eat, and crying children all around.
Later days,
Neal
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Show me the Money!
Hey dudes and dudettes, I just got paid! Yep, money, paper, paid son!
Alright, enough with my gangsta rap, yo! I got ta keep this thing nice and real, ya dig.
Ahem, as I was saying, I got paid, finally. Real income, after so many days of searching and sorting through the job ads and applications of unfathomable complexity. Why companies choose to make their job applications so crazy hard to complete, I'll never know. It's as if they don't want people applying for their positions. Or maybe, it's to whittle down the applicants into the more serious ones. Dunno, and don't really care, because at least I'm on the right track.
I'm not sure if you're gone through this sort of thing before, but when applying for jobs, after the first 100, you begin to get a bit disillusioned. I figure I've put out about 120 resumes so far, with little success. But that's okay, because the feeling you get when you finally get some results is worth more than anything. I mean, getting the detailing job was the first step. Then it was getting paid. Finally there was a gentleman I met at a festival I went to after I was paid this past Friday. Gil his name was, working one of the food stands at this festival. He was selling mini dutch pancakes and I tell ya, damn good! In any case, we got to talking, and he offered me a job working the festivals with his company. I still don't know exactly where I'll be, or what's going on, but bloody hell, I'm going to give him a call today just like he asked. Never look a gift horse in the mouth eh?
Speaking of this festival, it was quite neat. A little open-air grassy area down by the harbor front in Manly. The whole place was lit up with lights, the kind you would see at a garden party, nothing really fancy at all. There were live performers playing, two groups of which I had the chance to take in. One was a trio of a drummer, guitarist, and singer. They performed jazzy style songs, kinda like Diana Krall except a little more mainstream. The singer, now her voice was really good. Kinda funny too how different people can look when they take their glasses off as well. She put her glasses on after the show, and I scarcely recognized her, except for the dress she was wearing and that she was damn hot. Ha ha ha. But yeah, the other crew was like a modern Simon and Garfunkel. Both guys sang, one played guitar, and the other only harmonica. But boy could this dude wail on that harmonica. He made that thing dance, I tell you. All the food stalls were quite something else as well. There was everything from the mini Dutch pancakes, to Gozlemes, French crepes, Dimsum, Paella, Mexican food, Oktoberfest Bratwurst, and other various Asian foods. It seems to me, that Asian food is where its at around Australia. Everywhere I go is Asian food, Mexican, and other styles of food from all over the world. It's actually more difficult than I thought to find traditional Australian food fare. Meat pies are good though...mmmmmm. Nice and hearty, just like we would have made. Proper on ya!
Ya know how I mentioned the ABC (Another Bloody Castle) syndrome back when I visited Scotland? Well, now I have a new disease from Australia, it's called TPS (Triple Plate Service Syndrome). I swear, I'm not cut out to work the hospitality industry in Australia, given that you have to be able to carry three plates. And it's not just the three plates, it's how precicely they need to be carried. They can't be pressed to the body in any way, and you pretty much have to be able to move your arms around like a bird and not have the plates drop off or tilt even a fraction of a degree. Bah, I say, there's more to service than carrying plates. Trust me, I've seen a lot of the servers here and aside from the control over the plates they have, there's no actual good points to their service. They don't smile, don't laugh, and don't look like they even care about the service. Bah, foolish people. Well, that's that.
Funny point though, grocery store clerks here get paid more than restaurateurs. Figure that one out, eh?
Hostels are funny places too. What happens there, you could definitely do another reality TV show about. I mean, on one floor alone, someone was assaulted, there were people bleeding, and then there's projectile vomiting all over their own gear. Foolish travelers. Ya know, as an aside, I think the British, as a generalization, are the worst travelers ever. I know this doesn't go for all, because I've met some good travelers from Britain as well, but they're rare. They're noisy, uncouth, filthy, and of course bad drunks. They all drink this boxed wine, 'goon' they call it, because of how cheap it is. Oh, I think I can throw a few Germans in there as well, since I've had some dealings with them as well. My next step is to find a spot of my own to stay in. I hope that happens soon, as I'm gonna go insane otherwise. He he he, not that I'm not already completely gone off the deep end. :P
Alright, I think that will cover most of what I had to say this time. Next time I might talk about the spiders that hide in cars. Until then, catcha later,
Neal
Alright, enough with my gangsta rap, yo! I got ta keep this thing nice and real, ya dig.
Ahem, as I was saying, I got paid, finally. Real income, after so many days of searching and sorting through the job ads and applications of unfathomable complexity. Why companies choose to make their job applications so crazy hard to complete, I'll never know. It's as if they don't want people applying for their positions. Or maybe, it's to whittle down the applicants into the more serious ones. Dunno, and don't really care, because at least I'm on the right track.
I'm not sure if you're gone through this sort of thing before, but when applying for jobs, after the first 100, you begin to get a bit disillusioned. I figure I've put out about 120 resumes so far, with little success. But that's okay, because the feeling you get when you finally get some results is worth more than anything. I mean, getting the detailing job was the first step. Then it was getting paid. Finally there was a gentleman I met at a festival I went to after I was paid this past Friday. Gil his name was, working one of the food stands at this festival. He was selling mini dutch pancakes and I tell ya, damn good! In any case, we got to talking, and he offered me a job working the festivals with his company. I still don't know exactly where I'll be, or what's going on, but bloody hell, I'm going to give him a call today just like he asked. Never look a gift horse in the mouth eh?
Speaking of this festival, it was quite neat. A little open-air grassy area down by the harbor front in Manly. The whole place was lit up with lights, the kind you would see at a garden party, nothing really fancy at all. There were live performers playing, two groups of which I had the chance to take in. One was a trio of a drummer, guitarist, and singer. They performed jazzy style songs, kinda like Diana Krall except a little more mainstream. The singer, now her voice was really good. Kinda funny too how different people can look when they take their glasses off as well. She put her glasses on after the show, and I scarcely recognized her, except for the dress she was wearing and that she was damn hot. Ha ha ha. But yeah, the other crew was like a modern Simon and Garfunkel. Both guys sang, one played guitar, and the other only harmonica. But boy could this dude wail on that harmonica. He made that thing dance, I tell you. All the food stalls were quite something else as well. There was everything from the mini Dutch pancakes, to Gozlemes, French crepes, Dimsum, Paella, Mexican food, Oktoberfest Bratwurst, and other various Asian foods. It seems to me, that Asian food is where its at around Australia. Everywhere I go is Asian food, Mexican, and other styles of food from all over the world. It's actually more difficult than I thought to find traditional Australian food fare. Meat pies are good though...mmmmmm. Nice and hearty, just like we would have made. Proper on ya!
Ya know how I mentioned the ABC (Another Bloody Castle) syndrome back when I visited Scotland? Well, now I have a new disease from Australia, it's called TPS (Triple Plate Service Syndrome). I swear, I'm not cut out to work the hospitality industry in Australia, given that you have to be able to carry three plates. And it's not just the three plates, it's how precicely they need to be carried. They can't be pressed to the body in any way, and you pretty much have to be able to move your arms around like a bird and not have the plates drop off or tilt even a fraction of a degree. Bah, I say, there's more to service than carrying plates. Trust me, I've seen a lot of the servers here and aside from the control over the plates they have, there's no actual good points to their service. They don't smile, don't laugh, and don't look like they even care about the service. Bah, foolish people. Well, that's that.
Funny point though, grocery store clerks here get paid more than restaurateurs. Figure that one out, eh?
Hostels are funny places too. What happens there, you could definitely do another reality TV show about. I mean, on one floor alone, someone was assaulted, there were people bleeding, and then there's projectile vomiting all over their own gear. Foolish travelers. Ya know, as an aside, I think the British, as a generalization, are the worst travelers ever. I know this doesn't go for all, because I've met some good travelers from Britain as well, but they're rare. They're noisy, uncouth, filthy, and of course bad drunks. They all drink this boxed wine, 'goon' they call it, because of how cheap it is. Oh, I think I can throw a few Germans in there as well, since I've had some dealings with them as well. My next step is to find a spot of my own to stay in. I hope that happens soon, as I'm gonna go insane otherwise. He he he, not that I'm not already completely gone off the deep end. :P
Alright, I think that will cover most of what I had to say this time. Next time I might talk about the spiders that hide in cars. Until then, catcha later,
Neal
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Trees, and bushes, and high grass...
...And go wacking away in the sand with a tire iron. Oh, yeah! Great fun!
If you don't know where that's from, go check out Robin Williams' skit on Golf. Best skit ever!
Speaking of trees and bushes and high grass though, since my camera card seems to not be woking as such, and some of my pictures and videos of the botanical gardens are now missing in action until I can get another opinion from some data recovery specialists, I will have to attempt to describe what it is I saw through my meander into the jungle in the middle of suburbia, or urbia, as it was downtown.
Ahem!
Well, to start off I guess would be the general overlay. These are the Royal Botanical Gardens, if I'm not completely mistaken with the name. They're actually right next to the opera house. Well, that would actually be lying, somewhat. The gardens actually run a really long distance, but one of the main entrances to the gardens is down by the far side of the opera house, coming from the city. The gardens are really quite a bit bigger than I originally had thought. When we refer to botanical gardens in Canada, the biggest I've seen might be an acre or two, maybe three if you're lucky. But this place, well, I bet you could fit a minimum of 10 football fields in there. It's really more like a national park, including special greenhouse areas, outdoor jungles, copious amounts of wildlife, and open areas more like parks.
In the very center, or what I percieved to be the center, there were three buildings each shaped slightly different and made almost entirely of glass. Greenhouses, to be precise, parts of which were underground and parts above ground. Even just walking around outside was quite the experience, looking in on all the varieties of plants. The architecture alone fascinated me, as one of the greenhouses was shaped like a great pyramid of Egypt. Quite astonishing, really, and even more so from the inside. If you get the chance while you're down here, definitely go to the botanical gardens greenhouses in Sydney. They only cost $5 to get in, but the experience is definitely worth it. Once you're inside the greenhouses, they have each building turned into a specialized climate; one for high altitude, one for tropical, and one for native Australian. Alright, so I'm not that sure about the last one, since my pictures and documentation are currently in a state of limbo, but I know the first two are right.
And of course, this foliage is from all over the world. There's giant picture (pitcher?) plants like the ones back home, except these hang from vines and are at least twice the size. Then there are Venus fly traps, creeping vines, high-altitude moss (whoopie), and even tropical plants with broad leaves the length of my arm or even longer, and wider than my body. I think some of the plants might have been poisonous, I don't know, but at least I didn't try and find out. But each area was climate controlled, irrigated, and designed with regards to the specific climate. The high-altitude one was smaller, but steeply terraced, which the tropical one was mainly flat, lots of water, and plenty of tall leafy trees. Quite the spot to play hide and seek in, if it weren't for the damn spiders and all that. I swear, if it weren't for the fact that almost anything around here can kill you, Australia would be paradise on earth.
Oh, then there were the bats. If I ever get my data back from the SD card, we'll be all set because I even took videos to show you where I was walking and all that. But for now, we'll deal with the Flying Foxes through prose and literary means. I'm pretty sure I just made a big boo boo there in terms of grammatical structure and context, but frankly, I don't care at the moment. Take our local bats, then put them on steroids, and picture something out of an Indiana Jones or a vampire movie, and yeah, you're got the size of these things. And they were everywhere! One of the attendants of the park said there were about 20,000 of them. Unfortunately, as much as it's rather cool to look at them, they are causing a lot of damage to the trees and surrounding area, so now they're trying to get rid of them. Apparently, they even put sprinklers in the trees. Unfortunately, that didn't work. Resilient little buggers, aren't they? Still, quite cool looking, all red and fuzzy. Definitely cooler than our local bats which just look too small to be of any real interest.
And of course, there's the birds of the area. Cockatoos, and, well, a huge amount of other local birds I don't know the name of. They're everywhere! But, the real stars of the bird kingdom in that area have to be the Cockatoos. On top of being very tame, well, tame enough to be fed, they would even sit on people's arms and allow people to pick them up for a time. Some of the other birds would do this too, but not with as much frequency. They're really like giant, colorful Grey jays back home. Very intelligent, but very calm as well.
Oh, as I side note before I clue up, I went to see the Book of Eli last night...but I changed my mind and went to see date night instead. To be honest, it was kinda contrived, and definitely only a one-time viewing. It's not something to own, that's for sure.
Right then, I'm off to plan my day for tomorrow. Working, following up on leads, all that jazz.
Later days,
Neal
P.S. If you have an interesting topic you want written on, just let me know, and I'll see what I can do. Always looking to flex my linguistic muscles, that's for sure. This piece was rushed, definitely. No flow. Blah!
If you don't know where that's from, go check out Robin Williams' skit on Golf. Best skit ever!
Speaking of trees and bushes and high grass though, since my camera card seems to not be woking as such, and some of my pictures and videos of the botanical gardens are now missing in action until I can get another opinion from some data recovery specialists, I will have to attempt to describe what it is I saw through my meander into the jungle in the middle of suburbia, or urbia, as it was downtown.
Ahem!
Well, to start off I guess would be the general overlay. These are the Royal Botanical Gardens, if I'm not completely mistaken with the name. They're actually right next to the opera house. Well, that would actually be lying, somewhat. The gardens actually run a really long distance, but one of the main entrances to the gardens is down by the far side of the opera house, coming from the city. The gardens are really quite a bit bigger than I originally had thought. When we refer to botanical gardens in Canada, the biggest I've seen might be an acre or two, maybe three if you're lucky. But this place, well, I bet you could fit a minimum of 10 football fields in there. It's really more like a national park, including special greenhouse areas, outdoor jungles, copious amounts of wildlife, and open areas more like parks.
In the very center, or what I percieved to be the center, there were three buildings each shaped slightly different and made almost entirely of glass. Greenhouses, to be precise, parts of which were underground and parts above ground. Even just walking around outside was quite the experience, looking in on all the varieties of plants. The architecture alone fascinated me, as one of the greenhouses was shaped like a great pyramid of Egypt. Quite astonishing, really, and even more so from the inside. If you get the chance while you're down here, definitely go to the botanical gardens greenhouses in Sydney. They only cost $5 to get in, but the experience is definitely worth it. Once you're inside the greenhouses, they have each building turned into a specialized climate; one for high altitude, one for tropical, and one for native Australian. Alright, so I'm not that sure about the last one, since my pictures and documentation are currently in a state of limbo, but I know the first two are right.
And of course, this foliage is from all over the world. There's giant picture (pitcher?) plants like the ones back home, except these hang from vines and are at least twice the size. Then there are Venus fly traps, creeping vines, high-altitude moss (whoopie), and even tropical plants with broad leaves the length of my arm or even longer, and wider than my body. I think some of the plants might have been poisonous, I don't know, but at least I didn't try and find out. But each area was climate controlled, irrigated, and designed with regards to the specific climate. The high-altitude one was smaller, but steeply terraced, which the tropical one was mainly flat, lots of water, and plenty of tall leafy trees. Quite the spot to play hide and seek in, if it weren't for the damn spiders and all that. I swear, if it weren't for the fact that almost anything around here can kill you, Australia would be paradise on earth.
Oh, then there were the bats. If I ever get my data back from the SD card, we'll be all set because I even took videos to show you where I was walking and all that. But for now, we'll deal with the Flying Foxes through prose and literary means. I'm pretty sure I just made a big boo boo there in terms of grammatical structure and context, but frankly, I don't care at the moment. Take our local bats, then put them on steroids, and picture something out of an Indiana Jones or a vampire movie, and yeah, you're got the size of these things. And they were everywhere! One of the attendants of the park said there were about 20,000 of them. Unfortunately, as much as it's rather cool to look at them, they are causing a lot of damage to the trees and surrounding area, so now they're trying to get rid of them. Apparently, they even put sprinklers in the trees. Unfortunately, that didn't work. Resilient little buggers, aren't they? Still, quite cool looking, all red and fuzzy. Definitely cooler than our local bats which just look too small to be of any real interest.
And of course, there's the birds of the area. Cockatoos, and, well, a huge amount of other local birds I don't know the name of. They're everywhere! But, the real stars of the bird kingdom in that area have to be the Cockatoos. On top of being very tame, well, tame enough to be fed, they would even sit on people's arms and allow people to pick them up for a time. Some of the other birds would do this too, but not with as much frequency. They're really like giant, colorful Grey jays back home. Very intelligent, but very calm as well.
Oh, as I side note before I clue up, I went to see the Book of Eli last night...but I changed my mind and went to see date night instead. To be honest, it was kinda contrived, and definitely only a one-time viewing. It's not something to own, that's for sure.
Right then, I'm off to plan my day for tomorrow. Working, following up on leads, all that jazz.
Later days,
Neal
P.S. If you have an interesting topic you want written on, just let me know, and I'll see what I can do. Always looking to flex my linguistic muscles, that's for sure. This piece was rushed, definitely. No flow. Blah!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Musicals Revisited!
Yeah, sorry about that, looks like I forgot to put in about musicals. I did get to see Wicked, the one about the wicked witch of the west and her life before Dorothy came to town. Wel, turns out she has a name, it's Elphaba. I know, rockin' name, eh? But yeah, definitely another must-see musical. I got the tickets thought the Wicked Lottery, and have the button to prove it so pbbbtt. Yeah, for 30 bucks, front row center, and able to see all the action. Me likey very much! RIght, so get down here and see the musical!
Just do it!
Neal
Just do it!
Neal
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Job Hunting, Musicals, and City-Slickers
Well, it's been a great run so far, but if I don't get some income soon, I'll be up a small trickling body of water with an absence of any form of locomotion. It's a pain, really. Definitely not as easy to get a position here in Sydney than I would have thought, being a big city and all that. But I guess it is their low season, though I also didn't think bigger cities had low seasons. Ah well, minor stuff. Heck, at least I'm applying for a bit of everything now. I even went to a casting call for actors and all that.
Me! A casting call? Yeah, that's right, you heard me. Ha ha ha. Still, it turned out to be a bit of a scam as they wanted $160 to put me in the computer system. It would pay for itself in one shot, don't get me wrong, but the chances are probably pretty slim. So maybe another time, after I get some cash flow. Look out Hugh Jackman, Neal Oram's on the rise!
Riiiigggghhhhttttt!
Speaking of scams, there's definitely plenty of them out there, or at least, worse deals than usual. Even some recruiting agencies here charge you for being able to apply for their job boards. I ha a call today from some group in the city that sends people off for paid internships in the USA. Not bad, they bring you right up through the hotel and hospitality business in order to get up to manager level. Medical care, flights, all that is arranged. And of course, they want $6000 to pay for all this. Doesn't that defeat the purpose of being offered the working position. Or am I old-fashioned? I mean, I could have sworn that if someone wanted your talents to work for them, then they would foot the bill to get you over to their side of the fence. Or maybe this is just me getting used to seeing great promises but low expectations and even lower reality? Whatever. In truth there seems to be a lot of these get rich quick offers out there. "Full commission, make great pay" seems to be all the rage now. Trust me, I've paid my dues. It's definitely not all it's cracked up to be. At least there's plenty of needy backpackers to fill the supply lines of these corporations. I've spoken to a lot of the ones running these pyramid-esque schemes on the sides of the road, and they all seem to be backpackers, students, or were one or the other at one time. Doesn't $1000 a week seem great though? Hmmmm, would be nice, but still, as I've told myself many times now over the last few days and weeks really, I need the steady cash, not the dream of big cash with nothing to show for it.
Well, at least I do have something to help cover some of my living expenses, depending on how many hours I end up getting. I took a position as a car detailer up in the Brookvale area, north of Manly beach. So far, each of the shifts is only 6 hours, but the boss is excellent and the work is nothing to bother me about. It's just wash, wax, clean, polish, lather , rinse, repeat as necessary. Typically, I've got to be able to prepare a basic car for delivery or sale within 30 minutes. Right now, on the first day there, I was able to match that pretty good. Now, I definitely want to get that time down, because I've been told that the faster I am, the more hours I get, and that means the better chance at getting some cash flow. Case in point, I need the cash, fast! Damn funds are running so low that if this lack of monetary income continues for too much longer, I'll definitely be on a flight home in no time to either re-group or maybe head back to school. The thought has occurred to me, but I'll figure that out later on. For now, it's take it one day at a time and see if it all works out in the end. Hey Andre, looks like I'm doing your job for a while now eh? You did some detailing work back in University for a while, if I'm not mistaken. Any tips for me?
Here's something funny, rather, it's more of an observation. People in this day and age have an enviable amount of transport solutions available to them. Why, just look at the everyday commuter in a big city. There's walking, running, cycling, riding (motorcycle), car, bus, train, tram, ferry, scooter, skateboard, scooter, roller-skates, car-pooling, and perhaps even flights. But, while all of these types of transportation are not really odd or unique in their own rights, they can become rather interesting if you pair them up with different classes of people. This is what I am alluding to when I say 'an observation.' Now, I've seen plenty of odd ways of getting around, and to be honest, I've used some of them. But to see a business-man, dressed in full suit, tie, and even vest from what I could tell, riding a push scooter down the busiest street in Sydney during the height of the traffic, was really just the oddest thing I've seen in quite some time. I mean, can you picture it? Take someone like, well, any CEO of the Fortune 500 companies and put him on a scooter, not even a motorized one. Now, aside from Steve Jobs, who would really look alright on that scooter? Anyone? Yeah, that's my thoughts too.
Oh, but I did have an interesting occurrence with my camera the other day. Unfortunately, because of it, I may have to re-take all of my pictures concerning Sydney, and you may never get to see any of the videos I took that I haven't uploaded yet. Of course, there's quite a few I haven't uploaded. But, that being said, this is only the worst-case scenario. It seems as if the data is still on the SD card, as the space is still used up, but somehow it's hidden. I can't get access to it through computers, the camera itself, or even if I gnaw on it a little bit. That was a joke people, laugh a little, it's good for you. Honestly, if I didn't laugh at my situations over the last few months, I'd be in a real state right now. I mean, two of the biggest ones were losing my iPod within 12 hours of arriving in Australia, and the other is now my pictures might be gone for good. But, I think I'm finally starting to get the way a few really important people in my life think. They just seem to let everything roll off them, as if nothing is too big to handle with a little patience and time. Nothing is irreplaceable, and certainly everything can be dealt with in time. I know that this thought process seems a little 'Zen Buddhist' for most, but I know and continue to hold close a few people that exemplify this way of life and they seem to have all the answers. Well, if not all the answers, they're definitely some of the happiest and most content people I've ever had the chance of interacting with. So I feel like I've only scratched the surface, with worldly possessions taking a slightly lower rung on the ladder in recent times, but at least now I might be on a path to understanding myself, and what makes me tick.
Because let's be honest with ourselves, which one of us really knows what we truly want. And I'm not talking about simple wants, like gifts or some such nonsense, but what you want on a grand scale. To know which direction your life is going, to be determined to reach your desired path, and to do anything to get it. But the key to doing this without becoming disgruntled or self-destructive, I feel, is to combine that drive, that desire, with temperance. The flexibility to change your goals, or adapt to a new situation or set of circumstances is truly the most desirable trait in one who knows what they want in life. Unfortunately, at the moment, I can say that I don't know what I want or where I want to be in life. Sure, I've find out a few clues to guide me along the path.
I know I don't want to be stuck behind a desk all day, crunching numbers or having to answer to someones whims. That's just not me. I thought it might be, what with me taking the whole five years of business training and all that, but I guess I'll have to use those acquired skills in another arena. Maybe my own business or something. Don't know at the moment, and while it does cause me some worry, it's not all that concerning that I'll be losing sleep over it. No, leave me losing sleep to the blasted snoring and noisy individuals that take up most of the hostels in the world. They must really practice hard to be that rambunctious and unaware of their own cacophony levels.
Also, I know I love to travel. Sure, I've got some worries with eating different foods, and not understanding languages, and a low tolerance to heat and sun. But really, all this can be solved with copious application of common sense, enthusiasm, and SPF 45, not necessarily in that order and some may be combined from time to time. Just visiting new cultures has me pumped up. Sadly, this brings me to another realization.
I need cash. Now, there are many ways I could go about this. The avenues include everything from shining shoes, all the way up to robbery and extortion. I won't go into the logistics of each one, as that would take me writing a book and since I've already got my thoughts set on another two novels, I'll leave this topic along.Suffice it to say, money doesn't make the world go round...but it sure as hell helps when you want to explore it! Well, at least, fro my chosen lifestyle, I don't need to be ostentatiously rich (I can't believe I got ostentatiously right on the first try, no spell check! A-Booyah!) or even wildly rich, which is a comfort.
The issue remains with one of my final points...I need to be happy. Yep, unfortunately that's one of the prerequisites to my ideal lifestyle. Can't help it. It includes having close friends and family, and being healthy, wealthy, and wise in the manners of mind, body, and spirit. THis is where the conundrum comes into play. It's a real mind-bender, not unlike the puzzle I bought last week. I swear, that thing is going to be the death of me, or at least the cause of much frustration until I solve it. Blasted pride, causing me to choose a good and difficult one. Bah! Well, I needed something that won't cost me any more money to occupy my time. I spend enough as it is searching for jobs, eating, and just keeping my sanity in check for the time being.
All right, I'm done, now go back to your lives and wait for the next time around. Hopefully there will be good news about my pictures and videos, and I'll have them uploaded, or at least stored better.
Later days,
Neal
Me! A casting call? Yeah, that's right, you heard me. Ha ha ha. Still, it turned out to be a bit of a scam as they wanted $160 to put me in the computer system. It would pay for itself in one shot, don't get me wrong, but the chances are probably pretty slim. So maybe another time, after I get some cash flow. Look out Hugh Jackman, Neal Oram's on the rise!
Riiiigggghhhhttttt!
Speaking of scams, there's definitely plenty of them out there, or at least, worse deals than usual. Even some recruiting agencies here charge you for being able to apply for their job boards. I ha a call today from some group in the city that sends people off for paid internships in the USA. Not bad, they bring you right up through the hotel and hospitality business in order to get up to manager level. Medical care, flights, all that is arranged. And of course, they want $6000 to pay for all this. Doesn't that defeat the purpose of being offered the working position. Or am I old-fashioned? I mean, I could have sworn that if someone wanted your talents to work for them, then they would foot the bill to get you over to their side of the fence. Or maybe this is just me getting used to seeing great promises but low expectations and even lower reality? Whatever. In truth there seems to be a lot of these get rich quick offers out there. "Full commission, make great pay" seems to be all the rage now. Trust me, I've paid my dues. It's definitely not all it's cracked up to be. At least there's plenty of needy backpackers to fill the supply lines of these corporations. I've spoken to a lot of the ones running these pyramid-esque schemes on the sides of the road, and they all seem to be backpackers, students, or were one or the other at one time. Doesn't $1000 a week seem great though? Hmmmm, would be nice, but still, as I've told myself many times now over the last few days and weeks really, I need the steady cash, not the dream of big cash with nothing to show for it.
Well, at least I do have something to help cover some of my living expenses, depending on how many hours I end up getting. I took a position as a car detailer up in the Brookvale area, north of Manly beach. So far, each of the shifts is only 6 hours, but the boss is excellent and the work is nothing to bother me about. It's just wash, wax, clean, polish, lather , rinse, repeat as necessary. Typically, I've got to be able to prepare a basic car for delivery or sale within 30 minutes. Right now, on the first day there, I was able to match that pretty good. Now, I definitely want to get that time down, because I've been told that the faster I am, the more hours I get, and that means the better chance at getting some cash flow. Case in point, I need the cash, fast! Damn funds are running so low that if this lack of monetary income continues for too much longer, I'll definitely be on a flight home in no time to either re-group or maybe head back to school. The thought has occurred to me, but I'll figure that out later on. For now, it's take it one day at a time and see if it all works out in the end. Hey Andre, looks like I'm doing your job for a while now eh? You did some detailing work back in University for a while, if I'm not mistaken. Any tips for me?
Here's something funny, rather, it's more of an observation. People in this day and age have an enviable amount of transport solutions available to them. Why, just look at the everyday commuter in a big city. There's walking, running, cycling, riding (motorcycle), car, bus, train, tram, ferry, scooter, skateboard, scooter, roller-skates, car-pooling, and perhaps even flights. But, while all of these types of transportation are not really odd or unique in their own rights, they can become rather interesting if you pair them up with different classes of people. This is what I am alluding to when I say 'an observation.' Now, I've seen plenty of odd ways of getting around, and to be honest, I've used some of them. But to see a business-man, dressed in full suit, tie, and even vest from what I could tell, riding a push scooter down the busiest street in Sydney during the height of the traffic, was really just the oddest thing I've seen in quite some time. I mean, can you picture it? Take someone like, well, any CEO of the Fortune 500 companies and put him on a scooter, not even a motorized one. Now, aside from Steve Jobs, who would really look alright on that scooter? Anyone? Yeah, that's my thoughts too.
Oh, but I did have an interesting occurrence with my camera the other day. Unfortunately, because of it, I may have to re-take all of my pictures concerning Sydney, and you may never get to see any of the videos I took that I haven't uploaded yet. Of course, there's quite a few I haven't uploaded. But, that being said, this is only the worst-case scenario. It seems as if the data is still on the SD card, as the space is still used up, but somehow it's hidden. I can't get access to it through computers, the camera itself, or even if I gnaw on it a little bit. That was a joke people, laugh a little, it's good for you. Honestly, if I didn't laugh at my situations over the last few months, I'd be in a real state right now. I mean, two of the biggest ones were losing my iPod within 12 hours of arriving in Australia, and the other is now my pictures might be gone for good. But, I think I'm finally starting to get the way a few really important people in my life think. They just seem to let everything roll off them, as if nothing is too big to handle with a little patience and time. Nothing is irreplaceable, and certainly everything can be dealt with in time. I know that this thought process seems a little 'Zen Buddhist' for most, but I know and continue to hold close a few people that exemplify this way of life and they seem to have all the answers. Well, if not all the answers, they're definitely some of the happiest and most content people I've ever had the chance of interacting with. So I feel like I've only scratched the surface, with worldly possessions taking a slightly lower rung on the ladder in recent times, but at least now I might be on a path to understanding myself, and what makes me tick.
Because let's be honest with ourselves, which one of us really knows what we truly want. And I'm not talking about simple wants, like gifts or some such nonsense, but what you want on a grand scale. To know which direction your life is going, to be determined to reach your desired path, and to do anything to get it. But the key to doing this without becoming disgruntled or self-destructive, I feel, is to combine that drive, that desire, with temperance. The flexibility to change your goals, or adapt to a new situation or set of circumstances is truly the most desirable trait in one who knows what they want in life. Unfortunately, at the moment, I can say that I don't know what I want or where I want to be in life. Sure, I've find out a few clues to guide me along the path.
I know I don't want to be stuck behind a desk all day, crunching numbers or having to answer to someones whims. That's just not me. I thought it might be, what with me taking the whole five years of business training and all that, but I guess I'll have to use those acquired skills in another arena. Maybe my own business or something. Don't know at the moment, and while it does cause me some worry, it's not all that concerning that I'll be losing sleep over it. No, leave me losing sleep to the blasted snoring and noisy individuals that take up most of the hostels in the world. They must really practice hard to be that rambunctious and unaware of their own cacophony levels.
Also, I know I love to travel. Sure, I've got some worries with eating different foods, and not understanding languages, and a low tolerance to heat and sun. But really, all this can be solved with copious application of common sense, enthusiasm, and SPF 45, not necessarily in that order and some may be combined from time to time. Just visiting new cultures has me pumped up. Sadly, this brings me to another realization.
I need cash. Now, there are many ways I could go about this. The avenues include everything from shining shoes, all the way up to robbery and extortion. I won't go into the logistics of each one, as that would take me writing a book and since I've already got my thoughts set on another two novels, I'll leave this topic along.Suffice it to say, money doesn't make the world go round...but it sure as hell helps when you want to explore it! Well, at least, fro my chosen lifestyle, I don't need to be ostentatiously rich (I can't believe I got ostentatiously right on the first try, no spell check! A-Booyah!) or even wildly rich, which is a comfort.
The issue remains with one of my final points...I need to be happy. Yep, unfortunately that's one of the prerequisites to my ideal lifestyle. Can't help it. It includes having close friends and family, and being healthy, wealthy, and wise in the manners of mind, body, and spirit. THis is where the conundrum comes into play. It's a real mind-bender, not unlike the puzzle I bought last week. I swear, that thing is going to be the death of me, or at least the cause of much frustration until I solve it. Blasted pride, causing me to choose a good and difficult one. Bah! Well, I needed something that won't cost me any more money to occupy my time. I spend enough as it is searching for jobs, eating, and just keeping my sanity in check for the time being.
All right, I'm done, now go back to your lives and wait for the next time around. Hopefully there will be good news about my pictures and videos, and I'll have them uploaded, or at least stored better.
Later days,
Neal
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Sickness on the Road...Again!
Ok, so the first time I got sick on the road I had to return back home due to a perceived illness. That was rather unpleasant, to be rather mild about my description of the experience. Fortunately, it turned out to be something very simple, easily rectified, and therefore I was able to return to traveling within relatively short order.
Unfortunately for me, it seems to be happening again.
Of course, I only mean the sickness part of it, not the returning home part. I'll be damned if I let another non-life threatening medical situation take me away from my travels again. But of course, it couldn't have happened at a worse time, regardless of how seriously uncomfortable it is. I refer to the bane of hostels, dirty lodgings, and beds alike...
Bed-bugs!
Yes, those nasty little buggers chewed me to pieces nearly six days ago now, and of course, I have to pay the price for it. I guess that's what I get when I didn't research my lodgings well enough. I even had places vacant where I had stayed before with no ill effects. But oh no, I had to go with my manly gut and say "Bah, this will be fine for a few days. Uh huh, yeah, right. First night and second night, I was chewed to pieces, or so I figure, as I didn't change rooms till the third night I think. Regardless, the buggers did one hell of a job on me.
I'm quite well chewed from head to foot. In fact, to completely precise about the whole thing I have bites on my toes, feet, ankles, shins, calves, quads, knees, hamstrings, lower back, chest, shoulders, arms, hands and fingers. Frankly, the only spots not bitten, itching, and driving me insane are my mid-torso, butt and head. Ya know, when I first got bit I figured, 'Alright, it won't be so bad. Just some bug bites, nothing to it.'
Yeah, right!
To put it in perspective, I've had hives before, and these bites definitely rank right up there or even worse than the hives and shingles. I think I'd rather have one of my fingers bitten off by a rabid monkey than go through this. Why? Well, because it's one of those pains and annoyances that you can't ignore, no matter how hard you try. You can't work around it, you can't remove it, and you can't cure it. Being actually sick with the flu is preferable to this! At least then you feel run-down enough to lie in bed, drink copious amounts of fluids and get some much deserved rest. But no, I have to have something that bothers me when I sleep, when I put on clothes, shoes, etc, and even when I eat. When I move in any way, shape, or form the blasted things hurt and grate like nothing else on my nerves.
Normally, see, fly bites go away in a day or two. No harm done, right? But these...welts I guess I should call them, have been sticking around for the last six days now. And the antihistamines and creams I have been applying and consuming don't seem to be doing any good either. Well, if you deem putting me to sleep rather quickly at night, making me groggier during the day, and making me feel all greasy all over, then yes, they are doing some good.
Bah!
Oh, but wait, there's more! For a limited time offer with your bed bug bites, you too can have your very own Easter Weekend! That's right folks, for the entire weekend, including Monday, you too can have no access to doctors of any sort to seek further council and advice. And all this comes at the low, low price of a one night stay at your local dingy hostel. Just call 555-BITE to order this package now!
How's that for sarcastic marketing humor! Hah!
Alright, I'm good for now. Catch you guys later.
Neal
P.S. If you have any advice of how to clear these up quicker, let me know now and I will forever be indebted to you! Seriously! It's that bad! :P
Unfortunately for me, it seems to be happening again.
Of course, I only mean the sickness part of it, not the returning home part. I'll be damned if I let another non-life threatening medical situation take me away from my travels again. But of course, it couldn't have happened at a worse time, regardless of how seriously uncomfortable it is. I refer to the bane of hostels, dirty lodgings, and beds alike...
Bed-bugs!
Yes, those nasty little buggers chewed me to pieces nearly six days ago now, and of course, I have to pay the price for it. I guess that's what I get when I didn't research my lodgings well enough. I even had places vacant where I had stayed before with no ill effects. But oh no, I had to go with my manly gut and say "Bah, this will be fine for a few days. Uh huh, yeah, right. First night and second night, I was chewed to pieces, or so I figure, as I didn't change rooms till the third night I think. Regardless, the buggers did one hell of a job on me.
I'm quite well chewed from head to foot. In fact, to completely precise about the whole thing I have bites on my toes, feet, ankles, shins, calves, quads, knees, hamstrings, lower back, chest, shoulders, arms, hands and fingers. Frankly, the only spots not bitten, itching, and driving me insane are my mid-torso, butt and head. Ya know, when I first got bit I figured, 'Alright, it won't be so bad. Just some bug bites, nothing to it.'
Yeah, right!
To put it in perspective, I've had hives before, and these bites definitely rank right up there or even worse than the hives and shingles. I think I'd rather have one of my fingers bitten off by a rabid monkey than go through this. Why? Well, because it's one of those pains and annoyances that you can't ignore, no matter how hard you try. You can't work around it, you can't remove it, and you can't cure it. Being actually sick with the flu is preferable to this! At least then you feel run-down enough to lie in bed, drink copious amounts of fluids and get some much deserved rest. But no, I have to have something that bothers me when I sleep, when I put on clothes, shoes, etc, and even when I eat. When I move in any way, shape, or form the blasted things hurt and grate like nothing else on my nerves.
Normally, see, fly bites go away in a day or two. No harm done, right? But these...welts I guess I should call them, have been sticking around for the last six days now. And the antihistamines and creams I have been applying and consuming don't seem to be doing any good either. Well, if you deem putting me to sleep rather quickly at night, making me groggier during the day, and making me feel all greasy all over, then yes, they are doing some good.
Bah!
Oh, but wait, there's more! For a limited time offer with your bed bug bites, you too can have your very own Easter Weekend! That's right folks, for the entire weekend, including Monday, you too can have no access to doctors of any sort to seek further council and advice. And all this comes at the low, low price of a one night stay at your local dingy hostel. Just call 555-BITE to order this package now!
How's that for sarcastic marketing humor! Hah!
Alright, I'm good for now. Catch you guys later.
Neal
P.S. If you have any advice of how to clear these up quicker, let me know now and I will forever be indebted to you! Seriously! It's that bad! :P
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Surfs Up Dudes and Dudettes!
Alright, now we're getting somewhere!
Yes, yes, I know I haven't caught up on some of the blogs yet, but you can all kiss my pasty white bottom! I'll get to it over the next few days, as I've laid out to do. Frankly, I think I might only have the energy for that for the next few days anyhow.
The reason? Why do I need a reason? I don't need a reason to be tired. Heck, it's not like I'm extremely energetic all the time and put most ADHD sufferers to shame...
...Ok, so I guess a reason might allay your fear the world as you know it is going to end in a blaze of glory. Actually, the reason is quite simple, but extremely exciting.
I went Surfing! And of course, I couldn't leave it at just surfing, so I signed up for a camp over two days! 5 hours a day in the water for two days, BBQ, and crazy amounts of sun and trying to scrub salt out of my non-existent hair.
Right then, to business. Day one started off as any other day really, except for a few tiny facts:
I mean, haven't you had days or weeks like that where time just goes by either faster or slower than what you originally deemed possible? One of those rare Saturdays or Sundays where you just have nothing to, lying back on a bean bag chair, naked, eating Cheetos. No? Then you just haven't lived! Kudos to Ron White for that joke. Or how about long school days where time just oozes on excruciatingly slow no matter what you do to try and amuse yourself. So I pose the question again, what is it that makes these types of days appear to move so much slower or faster? And I know its just not me, more people experience days similar to ourselves. I've asked friends on those slow days,
"Does this day feel slow to you?"
And the answer is very often yes! So what can we establish here due to these conditions? Well, we already know that time moves at a uniform rate, or maybe not, depending on what experts in the field would tell you, but for now we'll keep it simple. And we also know that...ummmmmm...that I've lost my train of thought and will be abandoning this temporal subject with all due haste. See how logical that was?
A-heh heh!
Ahem!
How about something that makes a little more sense, a description of what went on during the two days of sun, sand, and surf. The group I went with was called simply Surf School. They're based out of Perth, and if you can believe it, their website is www.surfschool.com. Fascinating, eh? In any case, showing up a the bus stop was relatively easy enough, jsut had to wake up earlier than I would have liked for any amount of money or other incentives. After that, it was the waiting game until our coach and transporter, Raphael, arrived in the big 'ol van we would be riding in. There were five of us total, excluding Raph, and so off we went, watching a great surfing video all the while. I think it was a bit dated, but still a great video showing off not only some great surfers but also some great surf spots across the world.
After a good hour and a half or so, we all arrived at the beach in Lancelin. Now, it should be noted that, while the surf is definitely good, with while sandy beaches, no rocks, no creepy critters around, and of course, plenty of sun, Lancelin beach is known for something slightly different than surfing. Apparently, according to our instructor/driver/chef, Raphael, Lancelin beach is know the world over for wind surfing; and I would hazard a guess that it's known for kite boarding as well, given we saw a good few of them out on the water both days we were learning. The wind was reminicient of something you would get back home in Newfoundland, always blowing and always strong enough to screw with whatever else you were trying to do at the time, like hanging out laundry, or painting, or trying to run your surf board out to the deeper parts of the waves. I'll be damned if I didn't look like a complete fool sometimes trying to flip the board around without having it flip over or flip me around in the process. That is, until I got the swing of things. Then it just came naturally, as naturally as flipping an eight foot piece of foam around in the wind and waves can be.
Skipping all the boring instruction stuff, it was amazing though how relatively easy the concept was, and yet how entirely copmlex it is. I can really only liken it to running. On the surface, running is not all that complex. Put one foot in front of the other, repeat as necessary, then pick up the pace until your start leaving the ground with both feet at one time. Congratulations, you're running. But to run well, now that is definitely a different matter, and so is surfing well. To get up and stand on the board, almost anyone can do that, and even ride a decent wave into shore, that can be accomplished in two of three days. Turning slightly can even be accomplished if you've got the pre-requisite balance and concentration. But to really surf well, to read the waves, take your chances with one of your choosing, and ride the wave so you're parallel to the surf and beach, now that really takes some skills.
It was pretty cool when we got there. There was actually an under 18 surf competition going on during our first day of surinfg. Not only was it really impressive to see these kids a lot younger than us surfing really well, but it was cool to see that it could be done, and surf even of such relatively small sizes could be surfed properly. I'm not sure who won each category, but it looked like they were having a blast. Running out into the surf, trying to catch the best waves in the time limit, and then racing back out of the water to see who won each round, and of course repeating as necessary. I think they even had a bit of a barbeque area set up for the surfers. God, about half way through the day when we were given some sandwiches to munch on, what I wouldn't have given to have had access to a barbeque. I did find out two things though, during that point. One, is that salt water takes more fluids out of you than I ever thought possible. I must have went through well over three litres of water that first 4 hours on the beach. Of course, you're supposed to drink more than that normally, but I never do so that was really a record for me. And to top it all off, I still wanted more! Fancy that, eh? The second bit, is that I don't like beets in sandwiches. For our first meal on the beach, Raphael had picked us up some random sandwiches made at one of the local gas stations. Unfortunately for me, they were all the same, and all had beets in them. The first bite made me realize that some vegetables just aren't meant to go together. I hope the gulls could eat them when covered in sand.
But I gotta say, as much as the next day was full of progress and great times and sleep on the way back on the bus (and much better sandwiches), the point that sticks out was our party/barbeque the night before. Raphael brought us down to some little bar or community building in Lancelin whiere we played a few games of darts (which I have found out I such at), and mini pool (also much suckiness by me). But the real noteworthy piece to this evening had to be the meal at the end. Raphael cooked up a vertible feast of sausages, steak, salad, breads, drinks, and of course some condiments. A lot of the cutlery and sauces were proveided by the bar we were at, so that was cool. I tell ya though, for such a small group of pretty small people, we put away some serious grub that night. I think I must have gone through two and a half steaks, and abobut 6 sausages int he meat department. Then there was probably four or five slives of bread, probably a liter of water to drink, and of course some of the salad. My good gracious was that ever good after basically starving that day. I swear, next time I go surfing, I'm bringing a lot more food and a hell of a lot more water, and zinc cream, definitely zinc cream. Although I got burned, the zinc cream helped loads in saving my ass from eternal peely-ness.
Whew, alright then, that's the surf adventure. Not much else to it. As a side note though, everyone who reads this is hereby decreed by order of Neal Oram then First to go see How to Train Your Dragon in 3D this very instant! Great movie, lots of fun, and definitely one you can just turn your mind off during.
Alright, I'm off again, later days.
Neal
Yes, yes, I know I haven't caught up on some of the blogs yet, but you can all kiss my pasty white bottom! I'll get to it over the next few days, as I've laid out to do. Frankly, I think I might only have the energy for that for the next few days anyhow.
The reason? Why do I need a reason? I don't need a reason to be tired. Heck, it's not like I'm extremely energetic all the time and put most ADHD sufferers to shame...
...Ok, so I guess a reason might allay your fear the world as you know it is going to end in a blaze of glory. Actually, the reason is quite simple, but extremely exciting.
I went Surfing! And of course, I couldn't leave it at just surfing, so I signed up for a camp over two days! 5 hours a day in the water for two days, BBQ, and crazy amounts of sun and trying to scrub salt out of my non-existent hair.
Right then, to business. Day one started off as any other day really, except for a few tiny facts:
- The bus left at 6:40AM.
- This meant I had to get the train at 5:40AM.
- This meant I had to walk 25 minutes to get to the train station.
- This meant I had to leave the house at about 5:00AM.
- This resulted in me having to be awake at 4:30AM...on a SATURDAY MORNING!
I mean, haven't you had days or weeks like that where time just goes by either faster or slower than what you originally deemed possible? One of those rare Saturdays or Sundays where you just have nothing to, lying back on a bean bag chair, naked, eating Cheetos. No? Then you just haven't lived! Kudos to Ron White for that joke. Or how about long school days where time just oozes on excruciatingly slow no matter what you do to try and amuse yourself. So I pose the question again, what is it that makes these types of days appear to move so much slower or faster? And I know its just not me, more people experience days similar to ourselves. I've asked friends on those slow days,
"Does this day feel slow to you?"
And the answer is very often yes! So what can we establish here due to these conditions? Well, we already know that time moves at a uniform rate, or maybe not, depending on what experts in the field would tell you, but for now we'll keep it simple. And we also know that...ummmmmm...that I've lost my train of thought and will be abandoning this temporal subject with all due haste. See how logical that was?
A-heh heh!
Ahem!
How about something that makes a little more sense, a description of what went on during the two days of sun, sand, and surf. The group I went with was called simply Surf School. They're based out of Perth, and if you can believe it, their website is www.surfschool.com. Fascinating, eh? In any case, showing up a the bus stop was relatively easy enough, jsut had to wake up earlier than I would have liked for any amount of money or other incentives. After that, it was the waiting game until our coach and transporter, Raphael, arrived in the big 'ol van we would be riding in. There were five of us total, excluding Raph, and so off we went, watching a great surfing video all the while. I think it was a bit dated, but still a great video showing off not only some great surfers but also some great surf spots across the world.
After a good hour and a half or so, we all arrived at the beach in Lancelin. Now, it should be noted that, while the surf is definitely good, with while sandy beaches, no rocks, no creepy critters around, and of course, plenty of sun, Lancelin beach is known for something slightly different than surfing. Apparently, according to our instructor/driver/chef, Raphael, Lancelin beach is know the world over for wind surfing; and I would hazard a guess that it's known for kite boarding as well, given we saw a good few of them out on the water both days we were learning. The wind was reminicient of something you would get back home in Newfoundland, always blowing and always strong enough to screw with whatever else you were trying to do at the time, like hanging out laundry, or painting, or trying to run your surf board out to the deeper parts of the waves. I'll be damned if I didn't look like a complete fool sometimes trying to flip the board around without having it flip over or flip me around in the process. That is, until I got the swing of things. Then it just came naturally, as naturally as flipping an eight foot piece of foam around in the wind and waves can be.
Skipping all the boring instruction stuff, it was amazing though how relatively easy the concept was, and yet how entirely copmlex it is. I can really only liken it to running. On the surface, running is not all that complex. Put one foot in front of the other, repeat as necessary, then pick up the pace until your start leaving the ground with both feet at one time. Congratulations, you're running. But to run well, now that is definitely a different matter, and so is surfing well. To get up and stand on the board, almost anyone can do that, and even ride a decent wave into shore, that can be accomplished in two of three days. Turning slightly can even be accomplished if you've got the pre-requisite balance and concentration. But to really surf well, to read the waves, take your chances with one of your choosing, and ride the wave so you're parallel to the surf and beach, now that really takes some skills.
It was pretty cool when we got there. There was actually an under 18 surf competition going on during our first day of surinfg. Not only was it really impressive to see these kids a lot younger than us surfing really well, but it was cool to see that it could be done, and surf even of such relatively small sizes could be surfed properly. I'm not sure who won each category, but it looked like they were having a blast. Running out into the surf, trying to catch the best waves in the time limit, and then racing back out of the water to see who won each round, and of course repeating as necessary. I think they even had a bit of a barbeque area set up for the surfers. God, about half way through the day when we were given some sandwiches to munch on, what I wouldn't have given to have had access to a barbeque. I did find out two things though, during that point. One, is that salt water takes more fluids out of you than I ever thought possible. I must have went through well over three litres of water that first 4 hours on the beach. Of course, you're supposed to drink more than that normally, but I never do so that was really a record for me. And to top it all off, I still wanted more! Fancy that, eh? The second bit, is that I don't like beets in sandwiches. For our first meal on the beach, Raphael had picked us up some random sandwiches made at one of the local gas stations. Unfortunately for me, they were all the same, and all had beets in them. The first bite made me realize that some vegetables just aren't meant to go together. I hope the gulls could eat them when covered in sand.
But I gotta say, as much as the next day was full of progress and great times and sleep on the way back on the bus (and much better sandwiches), the point that sticks out was our party/barbeque the night before. Raphael brought us down to some little bar or community building in Lancelin whiere we played a few games of darts (which I have found out I such at), and mini pool (also much suckiness by me). But the real noteworthy piece to this evening had to be the meal at the end. Raphael cooked up a vertible feast of sausages, steak, salad, breads, drinks, and of course some condiments. A lot of the cutlery and sauces were proveided by the bar we were at, so that was cool. I tell ya though, for such a small group of pretty small people, we put away some serious grub that night. I think I must have gone through two and a half steaks, and abobut 6 sausages int he meat department. Then there was probably four or five slives of bread, probably a liter of water to drink, and of course some of the salad. My good gracious was that ever good after basically starving that day. I swear, next time I go surfing, I'm bringing a lot more food and a hell of a lot more water, and zinc cream, definitely zinc cream. Although I got burned, the zinc cream helped loads in saving my ass from eternal peely-ness.
Whew, alright then, that's the surf adventure. Not much else to it. As a side note though, everyone who reads this is hereby decreed by order of Neal Oram then First to go see How to Train Your Dragon in 3D this very instant! Great movie, lots of fun, and definitely one you can just turn your mind off during.
Alright, I'm off again, later days.
Neal
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Backtracking Just A Little
So it looks like I forgot to put in my blog posting for Barcelona, Spain. A pity that! I was doing so well so far with keeping the chronological order of my blogs. I guess screwing up once or twice is alright. God it's hot in Australia this time of year. Maybe I should ship off to the South East coast where they actually get snow? Ha ha ha, but then I wouldn't be able to catch up with Elise, so I think I'll be staying here for a while. Oh, and I must remind myself to print off some resume's in the next little while. I think I'll wait till at least monday to take care of all that jazz, so I can be better shaved, dressed, and all that before I start dropping in on people.
Right then, well, as I said, Barcelona! Great city! Cold as all heck! Didn't try the food. End of story!
Would you guys really let me get away with that?
I didn't think so either. So, let's get down to business then, shall we?
Observations are usually a good place to start off, so I think traffic laws should be a logical place to begin. Have you ever noticed that the bigger the city, the less traffic laws there appear to be? Yeah, I noticed that too. It was especially prevalent in barcelona. While cars and vehicles of all shapes and sizes did go t he correct directions on the roads, that's about the extent of order in Barcelona. There are cars, bikes, scooters, and all sorts of motorized vehicular creations basically going where they want, when they want. There's just no order to it. In a couple of cases, it seemed to me that four or five people just cruised on through the red lights, no problem there. And of course, where are the police at these times? Of course, they're reigning in the drunks at night and are invisible during the day. Maybe they're night cops only? Hmmmm, go figure.
Of course, I kid. But in all seriousness, check that out next time you go toa big city center. The larger it is, chances are the more offenders you'll get. I can't even imagine what the drinving is like in Thailand or even India for that matter. And I just thought of something else as well? Maybe it's the two extremes that cause this phenomena; the very large and the very small. In smaller towns, and being from Newfoundland I've seen my share, the same condition applys. Of course, at least in the small towns there are lower speeds and so the chances of serious accidents are lower as well. But what is really safer? In Stephenville, or almost any small town in Newfoundland, if you even stand on the side of the road, someone will stop for you. End of story, no questions asked. Now go with that, and flip it 180 degrees to a large city where no one stops for you unless you're at the cross walk and have pressed the button. On the one hand, you have courteous people driving so slowly that they'll probably not get into an accident anyways. On the other, you have the crazy speeds most large city drivers attempt to keep up with, but it forces pedestrians to follow the road laws. So I pose this question again, which is the better option?
I'm probably a bit biased, but I personally like the way the big cities operate. The reason? That's because it's predictable. If you think about it logically, you can see my reasoning. In a small city, you never know what cars are going to do. They might stop for you, they might not, and there might be Joe Redneck hurtling along and crash into the car that stopped. Frankly, ending up as another statistic is not on my list of things to do. But in a larger city, you can rely on a bunch of things. First, you will be run over if you step out into the road away from a crosswalk. End of story, well, unless you cross when the road is completely empty. Everyone is moving at such a pace to keep up with the fast pace-setters and speed demons, that most of the time they wouldn't be able to stop anyways. As well, the roadways, traffic lights, and stopping areas are well marked. In smaller cities, the roads are not as well maintained and cross-walks and stop signs sometimes don't exist. At the wrong time, you could get a non-local who doesn't know the signs or even a local who just forgets. Trust me, I've done it sometimes myself. Finally, there are just so many people that most drivers are going to stop anyhow. Unless, of course, they're going for the high score in the driving game. Then, you're pretty much screwed and you all end up on the evening national news. Fun times!
So there, that's my thoughts on the subject. Take it, leave it, or reply to it, pick one!
Right then, what I saw in Barcelona. I guess that's probably what you'd be looking for now in a travel blog. I know I would. Okay, so I guess I'll start with one of the more interesting areas, and of course touristy, of La Ramblas (LR). LR is the main shopping/market street in Barcelona. At any given time you can take in street performers, living statues, trinket shopping, as well as live animal purchases. Yeah, I said it. Live animals. Basically, they have stalls, out on the sidewalk, and sell everything from chickens, to hamsters, and right on back up to parakeets and rabbits. It's quite the show, actually. If you go out earlier in the morning, you can watch them all set up. I think I heard a goat at one point, but I could be wrong. At least they're not butchering them on the spot and all that jazz. That would just be, well, not wrong, I guess. Just different I suppose. Maybe when I go to China I'll see that in some of the outskirt areas. But, not so much in Barcelona. In any case, bottom line is, the LR strip is a real cool place to start off with.
Cut. Paste. Moving on!
Oh, I did get to see the FC Barcelona Football Stadium. The outside of it anyways. It cost money to get the tour, and I figured, I've already seen the Manchester United stadium so there can't be that much difference. Um, yeah, that's really about all I have to say on that topic.
The Magic Fountain!
Sound like a good name for a book doesn't it? And no, I didn't discover the fountain of youth or anything like that. It's actually just a big fountain with motorized jets that get set to music almost every night of the week. I think it might even happen every night. In any case, it's definitely something everyone needs to see once...and only once. Frankly, there's a lot more hype to it as a tourist attraction than there should be, but at least then it gets people in to see it. It's free, and set right below a really cool looking museum on top of a hill. I never went in though. Brent, you're probably cursing on me now for not visiting all the museums and such stuff. But come on man, those things take ages to get through, and of course, money I don't have! Maybe I'll get to the one here in Perth. I think it's free, so I'll take a day sometimes int he next week or so and get there. But back to the point at hand, the fountain is really quite a piece of engineering and colors, even if the music is all crap and not syncronized at all. The hues they manage to get from the jets of water and mist are fantastic when mised with the lighting. On a warm night, I can see why so many people pack ther area. Actually, as cold as it was, the place was still packed. I guess it's a must-see for tourists.
The Aquarium in Barcelona, unfortunately, I didn't get to see. But, as it was over 20 Euro to get in, I think I have a valid point as a backpacker. Apparently it's quite the spot to see, according to some other travel and blog sites I looked at. Maybe next time. Oh, but while I was down on the waterfront area, I did see something rather remarkable regarding to water. Ships, sailing ships to be precise. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of them all lined up in rows upon rows along the marinas. There were also yahts, rowboats, replica sailing ships (the big ones), and even the occassional tourist fishing vessel type thingy. A tour boat, I guess, is the words I'm looking for. There was even a nice beach in the area. Unfortunately, being so cold, I definitely wouldn't have been able to go swimming and all that jazz. There were some surfers out though. Man, I can't figure out how cold that would've been.
Now, ther was also this really cool church. Apparently, it's been on the build for a long time, and it's not going to be completed for another 30 to 50 years of something ridiculous like that. The pictures will be able to show you what it's all about.
But there was one really random moment when I was around, I think Poble Espanyol or Sagrada Familia, I can't remember which. In any case, I was trying to find the landmark I had travelled there to go see, when lowe and behold there was an escalator, right there between two buildings. To top it all off, it was in a residential district, with no shops or major attractions nearby, and it spanned over 150 steps that ran along side it up the hill. It was really, really weird. I mean, that's like having an escalator going up from O'Connel Drive to the Arts and Culture Center back home. It's just plain weird. And there were no covers or anything. So what happend when it rains? Wouldn't the mechanics inside get all messed up? Meh, in any case, I got pictures, so check it out!
Oh, and here's something else. Down on the waterfront, there's a little mall built on a pier or small island of land or something like that. In any case, inside this little shopping strip there's actually a Native American store. Seriously! There's pictures of guys in the feather headdresses and the works. There's even 'tribal' or 'native' jewelry. Yeah, right! Maybe loosely inspired, but certainly not Native. Trust me, I've seen Native back home. But I guess, maybe this is considered foreign and exotic to Spaniards. Kinda weird, though, to see stuff from our own history being used in a retail shop like that. Maybe that's what the Japanses feel like when they go to shops in America that are supposedly Japanese Themed? Another thought.
I'll finish off with a description of the concert I went to and the lovely Helen Miller that went with me. I should introduce her first, right? Ms Helen Miller, from the Lake of Constance area in southern Germany. I met Helen at the hostel I stayed at in Barcelona, the Albareda Youth Hostel. Actually, as a side note, this spot is really great. Even the owners would come down and chill out with the guests. The old man there was really funny too. As soon as he found out some of us could play guitar he would ask for us to play and he would sit and listen. Huh, fancy that? I wish he had his instrument there with him, apparently is some kind of Spanish traditional instrument, but much like a guitar of sorts. It would have been cool to hear him play as well. In any case, back Helen. Yeah, she's a sailor, runner, hiker, climber, and basically all-round crazy chick! Awesomely cool, though. But yeah, we went off to the Spanish Guitar concert that was advertised. I foget the performer's name, but damn was he ever good. Apparently he studied at some super-prestegious music school and is now a nationally and internationally known performed. I bought his CD afterwards as well. The venue was quite cool as well, set in a tiny old church with everyone just packed in. I gotta say though, the coolest part was getting to hear what a true classical guitar player can do. he actually gave out a history lesson while he went and played songs from the different eras, baroque, rennaisance, modern, and one other. But the truly astonishing part of it was the projection of sound. There were no microphones, no amps, nothing to get in the way. And yet, he projected both the guitars sound, and the sound of his voice in one piece, through the whole church. Mind you , it was small, but the ceilings were cathedral style and the walls all stone. Truly a marvel of both the player and the makers of the different guitars he played. Check out the song Granada, if you can, as its now my new favorite piece. (Since I found out that its the name of a piece I heard before but just never knew what to look for.)
Alright, I'm done now. Enough typing for the day. Time to chill out and wait for Elise to call me o I can set up shop in her place.
Later days,
Neal
Oh, and I'm actually looking at some ideas to write a book now. It's fleshing out rather well, actually. I'll let you know when I have a test chapter written up. Adios!
Right then, that's really about it.
Guitar concert, Granada, Tango in the sky.
Helen Miller.
Right then, well, as I said, Barcelona! Great city! Cold as all heck! Didn't try the food. End of story!
Would you guys really let me get away with that?
I didn't think so either. So, let's get down to business then, shall we?
Observations are usually a good place to start off, so I think traffic laws should be a logical place to begin. Have you ever noticed that the bigger the city, the less traffic laws there appear to be? Yeah, I noticed that too. It was especially prevalent in barcelona. While cars and vehicles of all shapes and sizes did go t he correct directions on the roads, that's about the extent of order in Barcelona. There are cars, bikes, scooters, and all sorts of motorized vehicular creations basically going where they want, when they want. There's just no order to it. In a couple of cases, it seemed to me that four or five people just cruised on through the red lights, no problem there. And of course, where are the police at these times? Of course, they're reigning in the drunks at night and are invisible during the day. Maybe they're night cops only? Hmmmm, go figure.
Of course, I kid. But in all seriousness, check that out next time you go toa big city center. The larger it is, chances are the more offenders you'll get. I can't even imagine what the drinving is like in Thailand or even India for that matter. And I just thought of something else as well? Maybe it's the two extremes that cause this phenomena; the very large and the very small. In smaller towns, and being from Newfoundland I've seen my share, the same condition applys. Of course, at least in the small towns there are lower speeds and so the chances of serious accidents are lower as well. But what is really safer? In Stephenville, or almost any small town in Newfoundland, if you even stand on the side of the road, someone will stop for you. End of story, no questions asked. Now go with that, and flip it 180 degrees to a large city where no one stops for you unless you're at the cross walk and have pressed the button. On the one hand, you have courteous people driving so slowly that they'll probably not get into an accident anyways. On the other, you have the crazy speeds most large city drivers attempt to keep up with, but it forces pedestrians to follow the road laws. So I pose this question again, which is the better option?
I'm probably a bit biased, but I personally like the way the big cities operate. The reason? That's because it's predictable. If you think about it logically, you can see my reasoning. In a small city, you never know what cars are going to do. They might stop for you, they might not, and there might be Joe Redneck hurtling along and crash into the car that stopped. Frankly, ending up as another statistic is not on my list of things to do. But in a larger city, you can rely on a bunch of things. First, you will be run over if you step out into the road away from a crosswalk. End of story, well, unless you cross when the road is completely empty. Everyone is moving at such a pace to keep up with the fast pace-setters and speed demons, that most of the time they wouldn't be able to stop anyways. As well, the roadways, traffic lights, and stopping areas are well marked. In smaller cities, the roads are not as well maintained and cross-walks and stop signs sometimes don't exist. At the wrong time, you could get a non-local who doesn't know the signs or even a local who just forgets. Trust me, I've done it sometimes myself. Finally, there are just so many people that most drivers are going to stop anyhow. Unless, of course, they're going for the high score in the driving game. Then, you're pretty much screwed and you all end up on the evening national news. Fun times!
So there, that's my thoughts on the subject. Take it, leave it, or reply to it, pick one!
Right then, what I saw in Barcelona. I guess that's probably what you'd be looking for now in a travel blog. I know I would. Okay, so I guess I'll start with one of the more interesting areas, and of course touristy, of La Ramblas (LR). LR is the main shopping/market street in Barcelona. At any given time you can take in street performers, living statues, trinket shopping, as well as live animal purchases. Yeah, I said it. Live animals. Basically, they have stalls, out on the sidewalk, and sell everything from chickens, to hamsters, and right on back up to parakeets and rabbits. It's quite the show, actually. If you go out earlier in the morning, you can watch them all set up. I think I heard a goat at one point, but I could be wrong. At least they're not butchering them on the spot and all that jazz. That would just be, well, not wrong, I guess. Just different I suppose. Maybe when I go to China I'll see that in some of the outskirt areas. But, not so much in Barcelona. In any case, bottom line is, the LR strip is a real cool place to start off with.
Cut. Paste. Moving on!
Oh, I did get to see the FC Barcelona Football Stadium. The outside of it anyways. It cost money to get the tour, and I figured, I've already seen the Manchester United stadium so there can't be that much difference. Um, yeah, that's really about all I have to say on that topic.
The Magic Fountain!
Sound like a good name for a book doesn't it? And no, I didn't discover the fountain of youth or anything like that. It's actually just a big fountain with motorized jets that get set to music almost every night of the week. I think it might even happen every night. In any case, it's definitely something everyone needs to see once...and only once. Frankly, there's a lot more hype to it as a tourist attraction than there should be, but at least then it gets people in to see it. It's free, and set right below a really cool looking museum on top of a hill. I never went in though. Brent, you're probably cursing on me now for not visiting all the museums and such stuff. But come on man, those things take ages to get through, and of course, money I don't have! Maybe I'll get to the one here in Perth. I think it's free, so I'll take a day sometimes int he next week or so and get there. But back to the point at hand, the fountain is really quite a piece of engineering and colors, even if the music is all crap and not syncronized at all. The hues they manage to get from the jets of water and mist are fantastic when mised with the lighting. On a warm night, I can see why so many people pack ther area. Actually, as cold as it was, the place was still packed. I guess it's a must-see for tourists.
The Aquarium in Barcelona, unfortunately, I didn't get to see. But, as it was over 20 Euro to get in, I think I have a valid point as a backpacker. Apparently it's quite the spot to see, according to some other travel and blog sites I looked at. Maybe next time. Oh, but while I was down on the waterfront area, I did see something rather remarkable regarding to water. Ships, sailing ships to be precise. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of them all lined up in rows upon rows along the marinas. There were also yahts, rowboats, replica sailing ships (the big ones), and even the occassional tourist fishing vessel type thingy. A tour boat, I guess, is the words I'm looking for. There was even a nice beach in the area. Unfortunately, being so cold, I definitely wouldn't have been able to go swimming and all that jazz. There were some surfers out though. Man, I can't figure out how cold that would've been.
Now, ther was also this really cool church. Apparently, it's been on the build for a long time, and it's not going to be completed for another 30 to 50 years of something ridiculous like that. The pictures will be able to show you what it's all about.
But there was one really random moment when I was around, I think Poble Espanyol or Sagrada Familia, I can't remember which. In any case, I was trying to find the landmark I had travelled there to go see, when lowe and behold there was an escalator, right there between two buildings. To top it all off, it was in a residential district, with no shops or major attractions nearby, and it spanned over 150 steps that ran along side it up the hill. It was really, really weird. I mean, that's like having an escalator going up from O'Connel Drive to the Arts and Culture Center back home. It's just plain weird. And there were no covers or anything. So what happend when it rains? Wouldn't the mechanics inside get all messed up? Meh, in any case, I got pictures, so check it out!
Oh, and here's something else. Down on the waterfront, there's a little mall built on a pier or small island of land or something like that. In any case, inside this little shopping strip there's actually a Native American store. Seriously! There's pictures of guys in the feather headdresses and the works. There's even 'tribal' or 'native' jewelry. Yeah, right! Maybe loosely inspired, but certainly not Native. Trust me, I've seen Native back home. But I guess, maybe this is considered foreign and exotic to Spaniards. Kinda weird, though, to see stuff from our own history being used in a retail shop like that. Maybe that's what the Japanses feel like when they go to shops in America that are supposedly Japanese Themed? Another thought.
I'll finish off with a description of the concert I went to and the lovely Helen Miller that went with me. I should introduce her first, right? Ms Helen Miller, from the Lake of Constance area in southern Germany. I met Helen at the hostel I stayed at in Barcelona, the Albareda Youth Hostel. Actually, as a side note, this spot is really great. Even the owners would come down and chill out with the guests. The old man there was really funny too. As soon as he found out some of us could play guitar he would ask for us to play and he would sit and listen. Huh, fancy that? I wish he had his instrument there with him, apparently is some kind of Spanish traditional instrument, but much like a guitar of sorts. It would have been cool to hear him play as well. In any case, back Helen. Yeah, she's a sailor, runner, hiker, climber, and basically all-round crazy chick! Awesomely cool, though. But yeah, we went off to the Spanish Guitar concert that was advertised. I foget the performer's name, but damn was he ever good. Apparently he studied at some super-prestegious music school and is now a nationally and internationally known performed. I bought his CD afterwards as well. The venue was quite cool as well, set in a tiny old church with everyone just packed in. I gotta say though, the coolest part was getting to hear what a true classical guitar player can do. he actually gave out a history lesson while he went and played songs from the different eras, baroque, rennaisance, modern, and one other. But the truly astonishing part of it was the projection of sound. There were no microphones, no amps, nothing to get in the way. And yet, he projected both the guitars sound, and the sound of his voice in one piece, through the whole church. Mind you , it was small, but the ceilings were cathedral style and the walls all stone. Truly a marvel of both the player and the makers of the different guitars he played. Check out the song Granada, if you can, as its now my new favorite piece. (Since I found out that its the name of a piece I heard before but just never knew what to look for.)
Alright, I'm done now. Enough typing for the day. Time to chill out and wait for Elise to call me o I can set up shop in her place.
Later days,
Neal
Oh, and I'm actually looking at some ideas to write a book now. It's fleshing out rather well, actually. I'll let you know when I have a test chapter written up. Adios!
Right then, that's really about it.
Guitar concert, Granada, Tango in the sky.
Helen Miller.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Va Bene, Italia!
Right then, well I'm sure you're all wondering if I've dropped off the face of the earth by now. If you haven't been wondering, well, then poo on you!
But in all seriousness, I've just been real busy travelling around and all that jazz. I haven't had as much access to computers as I may have liked, but at least now I can try and update as much as I can while I'm in Australia. But of course, tat's another story, for a later date. Right now, It's time to go back a few weeks to Italy.
Venice, to be precice.
Arriving at the airport outside of Venice is a rather interesting experience. It reminds me of Deer Lake back home. It's quite a small airport, but fairly modern, with little to no security on entering the airport. I know I'm coming from one of the European Union countries, but still, I figured at least there'd be passport or customs control. Instead it was simply walk off the plane, pick up your bags, and walk out the front door. Even Cuba had more thorough procedures, and that airport was even smaller again. Unfortunately for me, my arrival in Venice was during the dark hours of night, and finding my Bed and Breakfast was rather...daunting, to say the least.
Do you all remember the story in greek mythology of the Minotaur, of how it was trapped in a Labyrinth in Crete and slain by Theseus. Well, ignore the part about Teseus and the big-ass bull, and just focus on the labyrinth. Right, got the picture in your head? Good, now whatever you've imagined, make the walls come closer and tighter around you, and make then two or three stories high, and then take away the light, and add freezing cold temperatures to boot. To go one step further, add hundreds of bridges to the mix. Ok, once you've done that, you'll have some idea of what navigating Venice in the middle of the night was like.
I kid you not! This place was quite the literal labyrinth to behold even at the best of times. Even during the day it was difficult to get my bearings, even with a good map. Yes, the night before was far more difficult than it should have been due to the fact that I had a crap map showing only about two percent of the roads in Venice, but still, crazy. After a good two hours wandering around in the cold, stopping in at shops along the way to get directioins (and have one of the best sandwiches I've ever had at some mariner-themed cafe) I did find my way...
...only to think it was the wrong spot and have to ask for more directions until someone called for me and physically walked me to the location I needed. It wasn't my fault that the sign for 'Happy Venice Hostel' was on a tiny brass plate next to a series of door bells. Heh heh, though I am rather impressed with myself that I found the place on my own with a few minor directions. Even the gentleman who eventually called and navigated me there said that it would be impossible to find do to the numbers on the streets and houses not following any order whatsoever. He was right, but he never counted on me being from Newfoundland where we have some pretty confusing streets and numbering systems as well sometimes.
I was greeted by this wonderful older lady by the name of Gina. Of course, Gina spoke not a word of English, so my entire tour of her home and my room for the night was done completely in Italian and accompanied by a lot of hand gestures. Yeah, I looked like quite the fool I guess, but it is rather incredible what can be accomplished with a few hand gestures and lots of smiles and laughter. When left to take a look around my room, it was really a culture experience that I've not had for quite some time. The whole room was done up in an Italian style, and I hope unique to Venice itself. Stone floors, long blinds (Venitian, or course, but since I'm in venice then they're just blinds, right?), and of course a single hot water heater in the corner next to the bed. You can see in my pictures that even the pictures on the walls are or Italian scenes. And to top it off I even had slippers and a housecoat. There are hotels that don't do such things unless you pay for the presidential suite. A very warm and inviting atmosphere, to be sure.
Over the next few days I explored Venice to the best of my abilities, this time with a far more detailed map that Gina was able to provide for me. Bless her! In any case, I did come across some rather interesting instances. Now for the grocery store lovers reading this (Dad) this first bit will apply directly to you. When picking up some fresh fruit at one of the local shops, I not only had issues with the self-weighing and tagging system, but I was awestruck with the number of styles of Olive oil there was available to buy. Sure, I expected there to be some, bring in Italy and all, but not this many, In such a small shop, I counted 41 different types of olive oil. 41! That's unheard of in any North American shop. Of course, it all made sernce once I started eating some traditional Italian food, Pizza and Pasta. Olive oil adds such a nice flavor to the sauces used. Mmmmm mmmm mmmmmm! I will be attempting to replicate such sauces once I settle in one spot.
Aside from the delicious food, the fairly friendly people, and the convoluted roadways, (Aiden was accurate with the whole spaggeti imagery) the most incredible experience I had was walking around the San Marco Basillica. Now that is a truly collosal structure, and so artful. Every surface has a carving, and every carving is different. Paintings adorn the walls, while spires jut from the domed rooftops. And the square was just as open as I had imagined it. Now Joel, this one's for you, buddy! When you go play assassins creed, pay attention in Venice when you get to the square of San Marco and have to infiltrate the basillica. The reason being, is that ist appears to be completely accurate right down to the bridges leading away from the square. It is really unbelievable how accurate those game designers were. If only I could get up on the roof to look around, I'd really have an idea then as to the accuracy. But of course, I'd probably be arrested as well.
When you go to Venice to eat, I have one piece of advice for you...
...Be patient!
The reason I bring this up is due to a tip I was given on one of my tourist documents. It advised that Italians make an event out of eating, so eveything is drawn out and a host who presents you the bill right away will be considered rude. And frankly, it was right! After each meal I had the bill did not arrive until I requested it, and even then it usually took a good few minutes regardless of whether the restaurant was empty or full. It was refreshing, not to be pushed out the door as quickly as possible by the wait staff. Having said this, I now have some new ideas for foods when I get home, particularly in the bread department. I won't talk about the Spaghetti Bolognese, or even the Pizza I had. No, those are best saved for a question and answer period in person. What i will talk about is the unique way they did Bruchette. It was one slice of bread, very thinly sliced, but nearly the size of the dinner plate it was presented on. Toasted, topped with fresh tomatoes, spices, huge pieces of garlic, and of course copious amounts of olive oil. To be honest, I've never had anything like it. Not quite filling, but tastier than most appetizers I've ever had the chance to consume in my lifetime.
Actually, screw it, I'll get to the masks later. For now, I'll do a little more writing on the food portion. As I mentioned before, I also partook in the ritual consuming of a Spicy Sausage Pizza, as well as Spaghetti Bolognese. The Pizza, I might add, was again, probably the best pizza I've had in a long time, perhaps ever. Pizza Delight, Louis Gee's, Domino's, eat your heart out because this is true Pizza. The sauce was olive oil based, but very simple; Tasty as all hell though despite or perhaps because of the simplicity. Then it was just mozzarella cheese and italian sausage. That's it, aside from the fact that the crust was thin and crispy. It wwas one of the more simply pizzas I've had the pleasure of eating, but surprisingly the most tasty. I guess nothing beats fresh ingredients, a fire-kissed crust, and piping hot serving temperatures to increase the flavor of a food. Oh, this was at Mamo restaurant. It's close to the Basillica I mentioned earlier, so go there if you can. You may have troubles finding it though, as its off in a small series of back alleys away from the main tourist path.
The other item of nourishment I had was the Spaghetti Bolognese. It, again, had less ingredients, less meat, and even less sauce than I would normally have on a pasta back home. But of course, fresh ingredients have won out yet again. The small amounts of meat in the dish tasted like sheep, or some other type of gamey meat. I'm sure it wasn't moose, but it was tougher like what ground moose sometimes is. Maybe they have weird cattle ther, I don't know. In any case, it was done in the tradition of Aldo, who stayed with my mom and dad for a time, and tossed in the sauce before served. I think I'll do this with all of my dishes from now on. It limits the overuse of sauce, while enhancing the taste to the highest extreme. Well done, Italia! This was also where I had the Bruchette, as well as a unique experience with drinking glasses. Normally, water glasses are tall, large glasses filled to the brim. Strangely, the glass served to me here, and come to think of it, at most of the restaurants, was rather small. Almost the side of an expresso coffee cup back home. Strangely, this filling and filling and filling some more caused me to drink more fluids than if I had one glass filled to the brim. Hmmmmmm, maybe they're on to something here. Perhaps this is a method of prolonging the meal, as they are noted to do. Bah, whatever, though I am slowly but surely outlining my dream kitchen as I go to these different places. Heh, heh, heh. It's gonna be weird that's for sure. Global house and kitchen, here I come!
Now, I just need to make a whole heap of money and I'm set. Riiiigggghhhhtttttt! Talk to me again in another few years.
Asie from the food, the Italian carnival masks are noteworthy. Made of either cheap plastic, paper mache (the most common and popular), or leather (used for theatre, apparently), the carnival masks are each unique pieces of art. Unfortuately, it's kinda like the kilt shops in Scotland, there's just so many of them! Seriously, on certain strips, almost every shop sold masks of some sort or another. And the ranger in price, holy crap. Barring the really cheap, mass produced, plastic ones, the prices went from 20 euro, all the way up past 300 euro for really fancy ones. Surprisingly, some of the most expensive ones were of paper mache, not leather. But of course, the decorations on them were absolutely amazing. Real crystals, hand-painted designs, and glitter coming out the wah-zoo! Really, it was one of those things you just have to own. It reminded me or the Renaissance era, full of balls, costume parties, all completed in regal fashion. To be honest, I think I would fit in better with the era of chivalry and calligraphy, rather than the current era. Maybe one day I'll hold a ball of my own, as formal as they come with tails and dresses fit for royalty. Or, maybe I'll just find some rich dude to work for and end up serving at one! Heh, heh, that sounds more believable.
Alright, that's another posting done. Next time, it's on to Germany, and then Down to my first days in Perth.
Later days,
Neal Oram
Aside from the food
But in all seriousness, I've just been real busy travelling around and all that jazz. I haven't had as much access to computers as I may have liked, but at least now I can try and update as much as I can while I'm in Australia. But of course, tat's another story, for a later date. Right now, It's time to go back a few weeks to Italy.
Venice, to be precice.
Arriving at the airport outside of Venice is a rather interesting experience. It reminds me of Deer Lake back home. It's quite a small airport, but fairly modern, with little to no security on entering the airport. I know I'm coming from one of the European Union countries, but still, I figured at least there'd be passport or customs control. Instead it was simply walk off the plane, pick up your bags, and walk out the front door. Even Cuba had more thorough procedures, and that airport was even smaller again. Unfortunately for me, my arrival in Venice was during the dark hours of night, and finding my Bed and Breakfast was rather...daunting, to say the least.
Do you all remember the story in greek mythology of the Minotaur, of how it was trapped in a Labyrinth in Crete and slain by Theseus. Well, ignore the part about Teseus and the big-ass bull, and just focus on the labyrinth. Right, got the picture in your head? Good, now whatever you've imagined, make the walls come closer and tighter around you, and make then two or three stories high, and then take away the light, and add freezing cold temperatures to boot. To go one step further, add hundreds of bridges to the mix. Ok, once you've done that, you'll have some idea of what navigating Venice in the middle of the night was like.
I kid you not! This place was quite the literal labyrinth to behold even at the best of times. Even during the day it was difficult to get my bearings, even with a good map. Yes, the night before was far more difficult than it should have been due to the fact that I had a crap map showing only about two percent of the roads in Venice, but still, crazy. After a good two hours wandering around in the cold, stopping in at shops along the way to get directioins (and have one of the best sandwiches I've ever had at some mariner-themed cafe) I did find my way...
...only to think it was the wrong spot and have to ask for more directions until someone called for me and physically walked me to the location I needed. It wasn't my fault that the sign for 'Happy Venice Hostel' was on a tiny brass plate next to a series of door bells. Heh heh, though I am rather impressed with myself that I found the place on my own with a few minor directions. Even the gentleman who eventually called and navigated me there said that it would be impossible to find do to the numbers on the streets and houses not following any order whatsoever. He was right, but he never counted on me being from Newfoundland where we have some pretty confusing streets and numbering systems as well sometimes.
I was greeted by this wonderful older lady by the name of Gina. Of course, Gina spoke not a word of English, so my entire tour of her home and my room for the night was done completely in Italian and accompanied by a lot of hand gestures. Yeah, I looked like quite the fool I guess, but it is rather incredible what can be accomplished with a few hand gestures and lots of smiles and laughter. When left to take a look around my room, it was really a culture experience that I've not had for quite some time. The whole room was done up in an Italian style, and I hope unique to Venice itself. Stone floors, long blinds (Venitian, or course, but since I'm in venice then they're just blinds, right?), and of course a single hot water heater in the corner next to the bed. You can see in my pictures that even the pictures on the walls are or Italian scenes. And to top it off I even had slippers and a housecoat. There are hotels that don't do such things unless you pay for the presidential suite. A very warm and inviting atmosphere, to be sure.
Over the next few days I explored Venice to the best of my abilities, this time with a far more detailed map that Gina was able to provide for me. Bless her! In any case, I did come across some rather interesting instances. Now for the grocery store lovers reading this (Dad) this first bit will apply directly to you. When picking up some fresh fruit at one of the local shops, I not only had issues with the self-weighing and tagging system, but I was awestruck with the number of styles of Olive oil there was available to buy. Sure, I expected there to be some, bring in Italy and all, but not this many, In such a small shop, I counted 41 different types of olive oil. 41! That's unheard of in any North American shop. Of course, it all made sernce once I started eating some traditional Italian food, Pizza and Pasta. Olive oil adds such a nice flavor to the sauces used. Mmmmm mmmm mmmmmm! I will be attempting to replicate such sauces once I settle in one spot.
Aside from the delicious food, the fairly friendly people, and the convoluted roadways, (Aiden was accurate with the whole spaggeti imagery) the most incredible experience I had was walking around the San Marco Basillica. Now that is a truly collosal structure, and so artful. Every surface has a carving, and every carving is different. Paintings adorn the walls, while spires jut from the domed rooftops. And the square was just as open as I had imagined it. Now Joel, this one's for you, buddy! When you go play assassins creed, pay attention in Venice when you get to the square of San Marco and have to infiltrate the basillica. The reason being, is that ist appears to be completely accurate right down to the bridges leading away from the square. It is really unbelievable how accurate those game designers were. If only I could get up on the roof to look around, I'd really have an idea then as to the accuracy. But of course, I'd probably be arrested as well.
When you go to Venice to eat, I have one piece of advice for you...
...Be patient!
The reason I bring this up is due to a tip I was given on one of my tourist documents. It advised that Italians make an event out of eating, so eveything is drawn out and a host who presents you the bill right away will be considered rude. And frankly, it was right! After each meal I had the bill did not arrive until I requested it, and even then it usually took a good few minutes regardless of whether the restaurant was empty or full. It was refreshing, not to be pushed out the door as quickly as possible by the wait staff. Having said this, I now have some new ideas for foods when I get home, particularly in the bread department. I won't talk about the Spaghetti Bolognese, or even the Pizza I had. No, those are best saved for a question and answer period in person. What i will talk about is the unique way they did Bruchette. It was one slice of bread, very thinly sliced, but nearly the size of the dinner plate it was presented on. Toasted, topped with fresh tomatoes, spices, huge pieces of garlic, and of course copious amounts of olive oil. To be honest, I've never had anything like it. Not quite filling, but tastier than most appetizers I've ever had the chance to consume in my lifetime.
Actually, screw it, I'll get to the masks later. For now, I'll do a little more writing on the food portion. As I mentioned before, I also partook in the ritual consuming of a Spicy Sausage Pizza, as well as Spaghetti Bolognese. The Pizza, I might add, was again, probably the best pizza I've had in a long time, perhaps ever. Pizza Delight, Louis Gee's, Domino's, eat your heart out because this is true Pizza. The sauce was olive oil based, but very simple; Tasty as all hell though despite or perhaps because of the simplicity. Then it was just mozzarella cheese and italian sausage. That's it, aside from the fact that the crust was thin and crispy. It wwas one of the more simply pizzas I've had the pleasure of eating, but surprisingly the most tasty. I guess nothing beats fresh ingredients, a fire-kissed crust, and piping hot serving temperatures to increase the flavor of a food. Oh, this was at Mamo restaurant. It's close to the Basillica I mentioned earlier, so go there if you can. You may have troubles finding it though, as its off in a small series of back alleys away from the main tourist path.
The other item of nourishment I had was the Spaghetti Bolognese. It, again, had less ingredients, less meat, and even less sauce than I would normally have on a pasta back home. But of course, fresh ingredients have won out yet again. The small amounts of meat in the dish tasted like sheep, or some other type of gamey meat. I'm sure it wasn't moose, but it was tougher like what ground moose sometimes is. Maybe they have weird cattle ther, I don't know. In any case, it was done in the tradition of Aldo, who stayed with my mom and dad for a time, and tossed in the sauce before served. I think I'll do this with all of my dishes from now on. It limits the overuse of sauce, while enhancing the taste to the highest extreme. Well done, Italia! This was also where I had the Bruchette, as well as a unique experience with drinking glasses. Normally, water glasses are tall, large glasses filled to the brim. Strangely, the glass served to me here, and come to think of it, at most of the restaurants, was rather small. Almost the side of an expresso coffee cup back home. Strangely, this filling and filling and filling some more caused me to drink more fluids than if I had one glass filled to the brim. Hmmmmmm, maybe they're on to something here. Perhaps this is a method of prolonging the meal, as they are noted to do. Bah, whatever, though I am slowly but surely outlining my dream kitchen as I go to these different places. Heh, heh, heh. It's gonna be weird that's for sure. Global house and kitchen, here I come!
Now, I just need to make a whole heap of money and I'm set. Riiiigggghhhhtttttt! Talk to me again in another few years.
Asie from the food, the Italian carnival masks are noteworthy. Made of either cheap plastic, paper mache (the most common and popular), or leather (used for theatre, apparently), the carnival masks are each unique pieces of art. Unfortuately, it's kinda like the kilt shops in Scotland, there's just so many of them! Seriously, on certain strips, almost every shop sold masks of some sort or another. And the ranger in price, holy crap. Barring the really cheap, mass produced, plastic ones, the prices went from 20 euro, all the way up past 300 euro for really fancy ones. Surprisingly, some of the most expensive ones were of paper mache, not leather. But of course, the decorations on them were absolutely amazing. Real crystals, hand-painted designs, and glitter coming out the wah-zoo! Really, it was one of those things you just have to own. It reminded me or the Renaissance era, full of balls, costume parties, all completed in regal fashion. To be honest, I think I would fit in better with the era of chivalry and calligraphy, rather than the current era. Maybe one day I'll hold a ball of my own, as formal as they come with tails and dresses fit for royalty. Or, maybe I'll just find some rich dude to work for and end up serving at one! Heh, heh, that sounds more believable.
Alright, that's another posting done. Next time, it's on to Germany, and then Down to my first days in Perth.
Later days,
Neal Oram
Aside from the food
Friday, March 12, 2010
Updates Finally
Hey Bloggers,
While I am not caught up in terms of my actual postings, I have now updated several hundred pictures to my facebook page. Check it out sportsfans, and i will catch you later on.
Neal Oram
While I am not caught up in terms of my actual postings, I have now updated several hundred pictures to my facebook page. Check it out sportsfans, and i will catch you later on.
Neal Oram
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Are you seated comfortably?
Have you used the washroom?
Do you have a cold drink in hand? Possibly even a snack?
Excellent! Then you´re ready to start in on this blog posting. It´s sure to be a lengthy one so bear with me, and be prepared for marathon levels of text, pictures, and the like.
Now then, let´s get a start on the next installment of the Wandering Newfie´s blog. So I will be covering Toronto when I get my pictures in order. Honestly, I can´t recall what I did there, as I didn´t have access to a computer at the time so my notes are a little off. I´ll be sure to update when I get to the pictures. So then, I must move on to the land of reasonable rum, great cigars, skinny people, the Royal Palm tree, and of course, Che Guevara himself. If you haven´t figured it out by now, I was visiting the Spanish-speaking island of Cuba. Now, I´ve got about five pages of scratch notes to get through courtesy of Mike Walsh´s amazing moleskin notebooks he gave me, so sit tight and enjoy the ride.
Arriving in Cuba is not what you would expect from any other major port. You would think, based on the levels of tourists and the like that travel to Cuba each year that the airport would be rather large to accommodate such an influx. Unfortunately for travelers, especially those leaving the country, this is not the case at all. To give you an idea, I will compare both when I arrived and when I left. The arrival was the usual, get off the plane, go through security, pick up the bags, and walk out to get your bus. Well, when I say usual, I mean that all of this was within 100m of each other, so it was rather cramped. On the plus side, there was definitely less walking to be done between gates and security and the like, so there´s a positive to everything. Now, on the exit, there was a similar experience. Everything was closely packed together, including the people to be found in the waiting area for the gates. Now, I will remind you that there are only two gates, and the people are packed in like cattle, both standing and sitting. Probably the worst part was the smoking, as it´s legal there, but I won´t dwell on that much. Most of you know already about my disdain for smoking and the like. Needless to say, it was quite an uncomfortable spot to be stationed in either waiting for a flight or coming in from a flight. But, of course, those details are minor when you consider the reasons for coming to Cuba in the first place.
So at the airport, we were picked up by our driver which Mr. Chaffey had arranged. While our driver never spoke much, our short-term tour guide was quite the talker and actually had some pretty good jokes. One concerned two lighted oil rigs which looked surprisingly like the Eiffel Tower in France. He basically said, "This is why we´re a better destination than France, we have two and they only have one!" He kept us well informed and entertained while we rode the bus to our Five Star Hotel on Tryp Peninsula.
I pose a question to the readers now. What comes to mind when you hear the term Five Star Hotel?
Personally, I think of Boca Raton in Florida, a resort for millionaires build by millionares. Or perhaps even a nice Hilton series of hotels. Marble floors, candlelight dinners, bell hops at your beck and call, nothing requested is unavailable.
Well, Tryp Peninsula Hotel did give us some of that. There were some candlelight dinners, and well-dressed servers and staff. The rooms and facilities were immaculately clean all the time, which is definitely a plus. Even the lobby floors were marble, though they do get rather slick when it comes time to actually walk on them. The humidity made it so we Canadians could have a virtual hockey rink in the middle of the lobby from time to time. Just take two steps, slide, and you´ll end up over the stairs and into the dining hall if yuo have enough momentum. Quite fun for those of us with some balance in our toes, but flightfully challenging for the poor lady who fell when we first got there. Even the beach was raked every morning.
Raked, for Pete´s sake! A tractor, with a rake not unlike the ones used for packing snow on the ski hills back home, would tour our section of the beach every morning. I think either they had multiple tractors, or the gentleman had one long night because most of the resorts were done the same way. This made for some beautful soft sand until you hit the firmer, water-swept portion of the beach. Crystal blue water, hammocks underneath the Royal Palm trees, huge conch shells being sold on the beach every morning, and plenty of activities to partake in.
So what, praytell, am I nattering on with about the "Five Star" comment I made earlier. The point I make, is that not everything you see advertised is considered true, or even on a comparible basis. While the facilities were definitely among the four and five star hotels, the rooms among threes and fours, the service, for the majority of services requested, was maybe a three star at best. Unfortunately, the food was also of an attempted five star quality, but was brought up short at about three and a half. But of course, you don´t go to Cuba for the food, or so I now know. Bland would be one way of putting most of the food. I believe I gorged myself on pancakes every day to ensure I wouldn´t be too hungry by the time lunch came to call. And as for desserts, they definitely need to learn how to use more sugar and butter. Oh, of course I wouldn´t have any, due to my incessant and ever present allergies, but my travelling entourage certainly commented on them. And getting back to the service aspect, there were definitely instances where the service was lacking. For my parents in particular, they had a rough time acquiring towels, linens, and some other items I will not go into detail on. It also did not help that one or two of the staff would try and sell you cigars and even Rum on the side. The lifeguard tried to get me on the cigars.
But, while I state that the service was not quite as expected, it certainly wasn´t bad in all aspects. The entertainment commitee, as they shall now be known, were very upbeat and cheery all the time. They organized everything from dance lessons and kids events, all the way to organizing cabaret style dance shows every night with a different theme each time. They even had a Miss Try Peninsula contest later on. Guys, calm down, it wasn´t what you´re thinking. If you wanted to see that kind of scantily clad scenes, you need only to go to one of two places; the beach or the stage. The beach is self-explanatory, and the stage deals with the shows that were put off every night regarless of weather. I should note, that they did an excellent job having the shows inside the lobby when the weather did not cooperate.
Personally, I had no problems at all with the service during my stay. Unfortunately, it was my travelling companions who took the brunt of that blow.
I must mention two individuals in-particular who made the visit to Cuba completely worthwhile. One is Jose, and the other Carlos. I will touch on Carlos first, as he was directly associated with the hotel experience. Two or three nights we had reservations at one of the more fancy restaurants on the resort. The first of which, was rather dissapointing in both service and food content for all. We´ll not dwell on this, as it was the black sheep of my experiences with the fancy restaurants. Dining reservation number two proved far more enjoyable. The food was indeed more palatable, even going so far as being delicious. I believe it was here I had my first dessert at a restaurant in who know how long. The chocolate mousse I was given was certainly the tastiest part of my meal, and finished off a great dinner with a flare of simple style. The atmosphere also helped the dinner along.
In each culture there are various talented individuals and of which Cuba has no shortage. I won´t mention the dancers just yet, as you just need to take in the pictures I have in order to truly appreciate their...ahem...expertise. I´ll actually write about them later, as they do deserve a blog posting all to their own. In fact, I´ll mentin the rest of the shows I took in during my time in Cuba at that point. For now, I´ll metion that both of my dinners were accompanied by live music. The first was a trio, two violins and one guitar. Any piece you could have named, Pachelbel´s Canon, Midnight Sonata, even some showtunes from movies anda the like, and they could play it. One of our party wanted to see if they could play Flight of the Bumblebee, even though we said that it was not appropriate for dinner music. The trio graciously waived it off stating they did not have the sheet music. It was a rather polite way of saying, Screw off, or so we joked later. The second group was a singer and two other musicians of a discipline I cannot recall at the moment, but they wer also quite good. In fact, while the dining hall we were seated in was not overly large, this singer did not need a microphone had the place been twice the size, her vioce was just so powerful. For those of you who know me, you´ll be wondering if I picked up any of their music. Well, yes...yes I did. Both, to be exact. I´ll try playing them when I get home, as the CD players in the room, in my room, did not work as well as I would have liked.
But, back to the matter at hand, Mr. Carlos. He was, honestly, one of the most delightful servers I´ve ever had the chance to have attend me during a meal. Brent, who is normally unmatched in terms of quick wit in our group or travellers, had found an equal, and dare I say, even a better. Carlos could think up retorts and jibes to any of our comments, and of course, Brent certainly had a few of his own to try and stump the gentleman. We were definitely the noisiest table throughout the evening, but by far the most satisfifed. I belive Carlos left with a smile on his face too, after he recieved our gratuities for the evening. If I could, honestly, I would remove him from the country and hire him as head waiter in any restaurant I could think of. He was certainly a high point of my trip to Cuba.
As for our second individual, Jose took on a different role. Half of our party had previous dealings with Jose, as they have been to Cuba before. He graciously acted as our official tour guide on any outings we had, and even cleared up some problems at the hotel when we needed a local tongue to add some color and urgency to our requests. He explained many of the local sights in Havana (or Habana, for those of you reading from the mother country) as well as every spot along the way. He even helped organize a deep see fishing exhibition some of our party went on. I´m not quite sure if Jose organized the Jet-ski outing, but I´ll leave that story for another time. My most memorable experience with Jose was when we were invited to his house for dinner with his family. I cannot express my deepest gratitude to Jose and his family for allowing us to come into their home and partake in a meal with them. While grandpa and grandma were quieter, not having much exposure to English, if any, the rest of the family were certainly animated enough for all of us. You know, if I were to compare it to anywhere in the world, it would have to be both Ireland and Newfoundland. Jose´s family were just, well, inviting and happy. There´s no other way to put it. They were honestly just a great and joyous group of individuals. The family unit that day consisted of:
Jose
Alina (Jose´s Wife)
Harold (Son)
Lisbey (Girlfriend of Harold)
Harley(Son)
Liliana (Girlfriend of harley)
Lucila (The cheery Grandmother)
Jose Ramon (The quiet Grandfather)
Richard (Jose´s Brother)
and
Enya (The fuzzy black dog)
With the six of our party also in the abode, it made for some rather unique seating arrangements, but we were graciously given the seats of honor at the dinner table. And the food! Oh, I´ve not eaten such food in quite some time! There were craquelins (fried pork fat and skin until crispy), white rice, black beans (beautifully salted I might add), fresh squeezed orange and papaya juices (I would have taken it all with me if I could), pineapple slices (ripened to perfection), grated carrots, cabbage, lettuce, cristal beer, tropicola (local coke), water, chocolate cake, flan (blast my new milk intolerance), and of course, the roast pork. Aside from the beer, water, and cola, everything was home made. It really brought me back to Nan´s home cooking from back home. Even my mind was screaming at me to "Eat more", while my stomach was blatantly crying out "We can´t handle any more, back off you goof!" It´s times like those, that I wish I could either take some food with me, or have multiple stomachs like certain bovine critters. If I had to give the meal, experience, and the dinner company a rating out of ten, it would most certainly ber a resounding eleven! The mean was fit for any king, queen, or discerning conniseur, and the company was very inviting in all areas. Even the home felt like a home, properly lived in and surrounded by loving individuals. Jose and Family, if any of you get a chance to come visit in Canada, I will definitely have you at my home, wherever I may be, and I know I speak for the rest of our travelling party. This includes those who could not be with us due to illness, unfortunately. I promise nothing on the cooking scene, however. I will, perhaps, need to get some lesson from Alina on that matter.
Well, aside from a few other odds and ends, this was my experience in Cuba. I will touch on the shows and sights to be seen in a later posting, as I´m sure that this blog has gone on long enough for most readers. I hope it did not feel too rushed or with a lack of flow, but I´ll try to up the standard next posting, as I should have more time and the memories will be clearer when the pictures are available for vewing.
Catch you all later,
Neal Oram
Have you used the washroom?
Do you have a cold drink in hand? Possibly even a snack?
Excellent! Then you´re ready to start in on this blog posting. It´s sure to be a lengthy one so bear with me, and be prepared for marathon levels of text, pictures, and the like.
Now then, let´s get a start on the next installment of the Wandering Newfie´s blog. So I will be covering Toronto when I get my pictures in order. Honestly, I can´t recall what I did there, as I didn´t have access to a computer at the time so my notes are a little off. I´ll be sure to update when I get to the pictures. So then, I must move on to the land of reasonable rum, great cigars, skinny people, the Royal Palm tree, and of course, Che Guevara himself. If you haven´t figured it out by now, I was visiting the Spanish-speaking island of Cuba. Now, I´ve got about five pages of scratch notes to get through courtesy of Mike Walsh´s amazing moleskin notebooks he gave me, so sit tight and enjoy the ride.
Arriving in Cuba is not what you would expect from any other major port. You would think, based on the levels of tourists and the like that travel to Cuba each year that the airport would be rather large to accommodate such an influx. Unfortunately for travelers, especially those leaving the country, this is not the case at all. To give you an idea, I will compare both when I arrived and when I left. The arrival was the usual, get off the plane, go through security, pick up the bags, and walk out to get your bus. Well, when I say usual, I mean that all of this was within 100m of each other, so it was rather cramped. On the plus side, there was definitely less walking to be done between gates and security and the like, so there´s a positive to everything. Now, on the exit, there was a similar experience. Everything was closely packed together, including the people to be found in the waiting area for the gates. Now, I will remind you that there are only two gates, and the people are packed in like cattle, both standing and sitting. Probably the worst part was the smoking, as it´s legal there, but I won´t dwell on that much. Most of you know already about my disdain for smoking and the like. Needless to say, it was quite an uncomfortable spot to be stationed in either waiting for a flight or coming in from a flight. But, of course, those details are minor when you consider the reasons for coming to Cuba in the first place.
So at the airport, we were picked up by our driver which Mr. Chaffey had arranged. While our driver never spoke much, our short-term tour guide was quite the talker and actually had some pretty good jokes. One concerned two lighted oil rigs which looked surprisingly like the Eiffel Tower in France. He basically said, "This is why we´re a better destination than France, we have two and they only have one!" He kept us well informed and entertained while we rode the bus to our Five Star Hotel on Tryp Peninsula.
I pose a question to the readers now. What comes to mind when you hear the term Five Star Hotel?
Personally, I think of Boca Raton in Florida, a resort for millionaires build by millionares. Or perhaps even a nice Hilton series of hotels. Marble floors, candlelight dinners, bell hops at your beck and call, nothing requested is unavailable.
Well, Tryp Peninsula Hotel did give us some of that. There were some candlelight dinners, and well-dressed servers and staff. The rooms and facilities were immaculately clean all the time, which is definitely a plus. Even the lobby floors were marble, though they do get rather slick when it comes time to actually walk on them. The humidity made it so we Canadians could have a virtual hockey rink in the middle of the lobby from time to time. Just take two steps, slide, and you´ll end up over the stairs and into the dining hall if yuo have enough momentum. Quite fun for those of us with some balance in our toes, but flightfully challenging for the poor lady who fell when we first got there. Even the beach was raked every morning.
Raked, for Pete´s sake! A tractor, with a rake not unlike the ones used for packing snow on the ski hills back home, would tour our section of the beach every morning. I think either they had multiple tractors, or the gentleman had one long night because most of the resorts were done the same way. This made for some beautful soft sand until you hit the firmer, water-swept portion of the beach. Crystal blue water, hammocks underneath the Royal Palm trees, huge conch shells being sold on the beach every morning, and plenty of activities to partake in.
So what, praytell, am I nattering on with about the "Five Star" comment I made earlier. The point I make, is that not everything you see advertised is considered true, or even on a comparible basis. While the facilities were definitely among the four and five star hotels, the rooms among threes and fours, the service, for the majority of services requested, was maybe a three star at best. Unfortunately, the food was also of an attempted five star quality, but was brought up short at about three and a half. But of course, you don´t go to Cuba for the food, or so I now know. Bland would be one way of putting most of the food. I believe I gorged myself on pancakes every day to ensure I wouldn´t be too hungry by the time lunch came to call. And as for desserts, they definitely need to learn how to use more sugar and butter. Oh, of course I wouldn´t have any, due to my incessant and ever present allergies, but my travelling entourage certainly commented on them. And getting back to the service aspect, there were definitely instances where the service was lacking. For my parents in particular, they had a rough time acquiring towels, linens, and some other items I will not go into detail on. It also did not help that one or two of the staff would try and sell you cigars and even Rum on the side. The lifeguard tried to get me on the cigars.
But, while I state that the service was not quite as expected, it certainly wasn´t bad in all aspects. The entertainment commitee, as they shall now be known, were very upbeat and cheery all the time. They organized everything from dance lessons and kids events, all the way to organizing cabaret style dance shows every night with a different theme each time. They even had a Miss Try Peninsula contest later on. Guys, calm down, it wasn´t what you´re thinking. If you wanted to see that kind of scantily clad scenes, you need only to go to one of two places; the beach or the stage. The beach is self-explanatory, and the stage deals with the shows that were put off every night regarless of weather. I should note, that they did an excellent job having the shows inside the lobby when the weather did not cooperate.
Personally, I had no problems at all with the service during my stay. Unfortunately, it was my travelling companions who took the brunt of that blow.
I must mention two individuals in-particular who made the visit to Cuba completely worthwhile. One is Jose, and the other Carlos. I will touch on Carlos first, as he was directly associated with the hotel experience. Two or three nights we had reservations at one of the more fancy restaurants on the resort. The first of which, was rather dissapointing in both service and food content for all. We´ll not dwell on this, as it was the black sheep of my experiences with the fancy restaurants. Dining reservation number two proved far more enjoyable. The food was indeed more palatable, even going so far as being delicious. I believe it was here I had my first dessert at a restaurant in who know how long. The chocolate mousse I was given was certainly the tastiest part of my meal, and finished off a great dinner with a flare of simple style. The atmosphere also helped the dinner along.
In each culture there are various talented individuals and of which Cuba has no shortage. I won´t mention the dancers just yet, as you just need to take in the pictures I have in order to truly appreciate their...ahem...expertise. I´ll actually write about them later, as they do deserve a blog posting all to their own. In fact, I´ll mentin the rest of the shows I took in during my time in Cuba at that point. For now, I´ll metion that both of my dinners were accompanied by live music. The first was a trio, two violins and one guitar. Any piece you could have named, Pachelbel´s Canon, Midnight Sonata, even some showtunes from movies anda the like, and they could play it. One of our party wanted to see if they could play Flight of the Bumblebee, even though we said that it was not appropriate for dinner music. The trio graciously waived it off stating they did not have the sheet music. It was a rather polite way of saying, Screw off, or so we joked later. The second group was a singer and two other musicians of a discipline I cannot recall at the moment, but they wer also quite good. In fact, while the dining hall we were seated in was not overly large, this singer did not need a microphone had the place been twice the size, her vioce was just so powerful. For those of you who know me, you´ll be wondering if I picked up any of their music. Well, yes...yes I did. Both, to be exact. I´ll try playing them when I get home, as the CD players in the room, in my room, did not work as well as I would have liked.
But, back to the matter at hand, Mr. Carlos. He was, honestly, one of the most delightful servers I´ve ever had the chance to have attend me during a meal. Brent, who is normally unmatched in terms of quick wit in our group or travellers, had found an equal, and dare I say, even a better. Carlos could think up retorts and jibes to any of our comments, and of course, Brent certainly had a few of his own to try and stump the gentleman. We were definitely the noisiest table throughout the evening, but by far the most satisfifed. I belive Carlos left with a smile on his face too, after he recieved our gratuities for the evening. If I could, honestly, I would remove him from the country and hire him as head waiter in any restaurant I could think of. He was certainly a high point of my trip to Cuba.
As for our second individual, Jose took on a different role. Half of our party had previous dealings with Jose, as they have been to Cuba before. He graciously acted as our official tour guide on any outings we had, and even cleared up some problems at the hotel when we needed a local tongue to add some color and urgency to our requests. He explained many of the local sights in Havana (or Habana, for those of you reading from the mother country) as well as every spot along the way. He even helped organize a deep see fishing exhibition some of our party went on. I´m not quite sure if Jose organized the Jet-ski outing, but I´ll leave that story for another time. My most memorable experience with Jose was when we were invited to his house for dinner with his family. I cannot express my deepest gratitude to Jose and his family for allowing us to come into their home and partake in a meal with them. While grandpa and grandma were quieter, not having much exposure to English, if any, the rest of the family were certainly animated enough for all of us. You know, if I were to compare it to anywhere in the world, it would have to be both Ireland and Newfoundland. Jose´s family were just, well, inviting and happy. There´s no other way to put it. They were honestly just a great and joyous group of individuals. The family unit that day consisted of:
Jose
Alina (Jose´s Wife)
Harold (Son)
Lisbey (Girlfriend of Harold)
Harley(Son)
Liliana (Girlfriend of harley)
Lucila (The cheery Grandmother)
Jose Ramon (The quiet Grandfather)
Richard (Jose´s Brother)
and
Enya (The fuzzy black dog)
With the six of our party also in the abode, it made for some rather unique seating arrangements, but we were graciously given the seats of honor at the dinner table. And the food! Oh, I´ve not eaten such food in quite some time! There were craquelins (fried pork fat and skin until crispy), white rice, black beans (beautifully salted I might add), fresh squeezed orange and papaya juices (I would have taken it all with me if I could), pineapple slices (ripened to perfection), grated carrots, cabbage, lettuce, cristal beer, tropicola (local coke), water, chocolate cake, flan (blast my new milk intolerance), and of course, the roast pork. Aside from the beer, water, and cola, everything was home made. It really brought me back to Nan´s home cooking from back home. Even my mind was screaming at me to "Eat more", while my stomach was blatantly crying out "We can´t handle any more, back off you goof!" It´s times like those, that I wish I could either take some food with me, or have multiple stomachs like certain bovine critters. If I had to give the meal, experience, and the dinner company a rating out of ten, it would most certainly ber a resounding eleven! The mean was fit for any king, queen, or discerning conniseur, and the company was very inviting in all areas. Even the home felt like a home, properly lived in and surrounded by loving individuals. Jose and Family, if any of you get a chance to come visit in Canada, I will definitely have you at my home, wherever I may be, and I know I speak for the rest of our travelling party. This includes those who could not be with us due to illness, unfortunately. I promise nothing on the cooking scene, however. I will, perhaps, need to get some lesson from Alina on that matter.
Well, aside from a few other odds and ends, this was my experience in Cuba. I will touch on the shows and sights to be seen in a later posting, as I´m sure that this blog has gone on long enough for most readers. I hope it did not feel too rushed or with a lack of flow, but I´ll try to up the standard next posting, as I should have more time and the memories will be clearer when the pictures are available for vewing.
Catch you all later,
Neal Oram
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Title Shot, Round Two, Fight!
...and in the orange corner...weighing in at 156lbs...standing 5 foot 7 and one-half inches...the goof from Newf...the rook of Corner Brook...doctor 'NO' himself...NEAL ORAM!
Yes folks I'm back, large and in charge! This is officially the first post of the second round of the Wandering Newfie saga. Pretty cool, eh? And I'm starting things off right. First off, I'm in the most remote and exotic place anyone could hope to be. There are wildlife around me you wouldn't even get to see in the Amazon Rain forest. The sounds are all odd and foreign, where multiple languages seem to blossom on every street corner. They even have tunnels which allow them to traverse hills and obstacles from one part of the village to another. Yep, you guessed it, I'm in...
...Toronto!
Not quite what you were expecting, if I were to hazard a guess. But you knew I wasn't completely sane to begin with. Ha ha ha ha. Bring it on world, this is the first stop. But in all seriousness, this is not where I'll be making my first foray into the world unknown. Varadero, Cuba, will be my first choice in stomping grounds. Beaches, babes, and booze. Well, subtract the booze, and you're got my interests down pat. :P Seriously, this whole not drinking thing has its advantages sometimes, especially with a backpacker's budget. I've been eating rather well here in Toronto, during day 1.5. I had breakfast at Sora's, Lunch at A&W, and supper at a lovely Greek restaurant by the name of Penelope.
Okay, so the second one doesn't exactly go with the good food theme, but dammit I was hungry and that was the only one around that wasn't some oriental fare that I didn't know what was in it. In any case, let me describe the dining fare of Penelope for you, my dear readers, who, if hungry, will all be shaking their collective appendages at their computer screens in rather rude gestures, once they have read this next bit.
Ahem...the pre-appetizer was a delightful fresh roll of whole wheat bread with pats of butter on the side. Warmed, and moist, this went over rather well while awaiting for Dimitri, my Italian speaking 6'4 waiter, to attend on me with my next course. Fortunately, I was not to be kept waiting long. While a cold dish, the roasted red peppers, olive oil, tomatoes, cucumber, and spicy olives created a rather intriguing palate when topped with feta cheese. I swear, this dish could have been hot and it still would have gone over well. Tasty, yet not overly filling, and without a hint of lactose.
Booyah for Greek fare, I say. Booyah!
Then came the main course, a beef souvlaki kebab with tzatziki yogurt sauce. This was seared to a medium rare, served with seasoned potatoes, what appeared to be rice pilaf, and garden vegetables consisting of green and yellow beans, and a few baby carrots. The vegetables were of course tossed in olive oil, adding to their natural flavors. For those of you who have had the chance to try the Totally Greek version of souvlaki, then I must insist you do not use this as your benchmark for all greek fare. The beef was flavorful, the vegetables crisp, the rice filling, and the potatoes seasoned to perfection. And to top it all off, the dish came out piping hot! A refreshing experience to have the meals come out as they were advertised on the menu. Truly a work of a set of professionals who I simply must take my hat off too...
...and I would have if it wasn't so damn cold up here and I had more hair. Pbbbbbt!
Well then, how to recap my first two days. I've been to the Eaton Center, quite the mall if I must say so myself, and also to the CN Tower. Not a bad spot, but only a one time deal. Once you've seen it, you're seen it, if that makes any sense at all. The glass floor was nice, but they could use to replace it I figure, just to get all the scratches off it so you can really get that "Oh crap I'm over 300ft in the air and there's nothing below me" feeling. As for the rest of my times, well I spent that as most travelers of any merit do...
...wandering listlessly taking in the sights and sounds of the area, and of course gathering bearings for potential future times out. Oh, I did find out there's a movie theater nearby, and they have an iMax, and they have Avatar still playing, and its in 3D, and I'm definitely, definitely, definitely, definitely gotta go, go , go, GO , GO, GO!
This bloody spell check is driving me crazy, with its americanized spelling of er versus the re of Canada. Foolishness. And the keyboard I'm working with seems to be some international version that like to throw in accents and such ever time I try to use the quotation mark key. Hmmm, intriguing. But, moving on!
Honestly, that movie even in our dingy theaters back home in Corner Brook was amazing beyond all expectations. The realism, the story, and even the characters was just great. I can't wait to see what the spin off of this will be with regards to 3D television and 3D computer monitors and gaming. Look out Xbox and gaming fans, there might be some new systems out real soon, much to our chagrin. Frankly though, I think they'll wait a while, if they're smart, at least to get the technology to the level where they can safely replicate the effects of Avatar on a personal interactive level. The processing power would have to be monstrous. Maybe the new next-gen computers with their chaos-theory processors or organic thought processes will be able to handle the demands. Who know, I certainly don't, but at least its worth dreaming about. I'd pay $200 for a game with that kind of 3D interactivity and graphics level, no problem, It'd be a ridiculous sensations beyond anything in the last ten years.
Whew, well, then, looks like I'm back in action again. It's been a long road on the mend and getting all kinds of testing done back home, but the feeling of being back on the road is worth it. I'm actually looking at some more flights right now, for after Cuba. Perth, Australia is looking really tempting at the moment, and there's Elise to go see there and stay with, and all the creepy crawlies to flick off and shake out of my boots...
Yeah...let's think about that one a bit more.
Anyhow folks, I'm off. Catcha on the flipside, and I'll be back soon with another adventure.
Neal Oram
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