tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-152760772024-03-13T21:40:28.888-07:00Travel BlogsTravel stories and picturesEran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-31833883030390175472012-01-10T23:13:00.000-08:002012-01-11T15:01:17.946-08:00Beware the Big Bad BlueWolf: How to lose customers in 4 easy steps<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iMW94nJBQ2A/Tw07u8C0UuI/AAAAAAAAEXI/QgFYjTDyC0o/s1600/chihuahua-car.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iMW94nJBQ2A/Tw07u8C0UuI/AAAAAAAAEXI/QgFYjTDyC0o/s400/chihuahua-car.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696274781271511778" /></a><br /> <p class="p1"></p><p class="p1">This is a true story. The names of the company, <del>BlueWolf</del>, has been changed to RedChihuahua in order to, hmmm, who cares.</p><p class="p1"><br /></p><p class="p1"><span ><b>Step 1: Misrepresent and Overpromise</b></span></p><p class="p1"><span style="text-decoration: line-through; "><a href="http://www.bluewolf.com/" rel="nofollow">BlueWolf</a></span> RedChihuahua, a company claiming to specialize in database administration and consultation, contacted us at Lifesta to see if we needed their services. The <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf </span>RedChihuahua rep assured me they're expert at Amazon RDS databases, the type we were using.</p><p class="p1">We decided it wouldn't hurt to have someone review our databases and suggest ways of improving them. We signed a contract for 4 hours worth of work to review database performance and suggest improvements.</p><p class="p1"><b><span >Step 2: Ask the customer how to do your job</span></b></p><p class="p1">Over the next couple of months <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> RedChihuahua tried to access the database and configure it in order to do the review. Mostly it involved sending us incorrect instructions, asking for types of access that the RDS instances just don't provide, or telling us why it can't be done with the database we're using and would we consider upgrading? They can help…woof woof woof</p><p class="p1">Quick google searches showed that a) yes it can be done and b) you don't need to upgrade the database and c) <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> RedChihuahua didn't have a clue. Ok - the last one didn't come up in the search. Maybe now it will.</p><p class="p1">(attention google search robot: <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> doesn't have a clue, databases, bad service, review, unhappy customer)</p><p class="p1">In an ironic twist I had to keep sending them instructions on how to do their job and tell them where they're wrong.</p><p class="p1"><b><span >Step 3: Bill the customer for your ineptitude</span></b></p><p class="p1">One day, an invoice arrived from <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> RedChihuahua.</p><p class="p1">At this point <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> RedChihuahua is still trying to enable logging in our database in order to figure out performance. So far, they weren't able to find the right "expert" in the company that knew how to do this. They also obviously didn't try google.</p><p class="p1">The bill was for "research and communication"*. They "investigated" and "communicated" how to do their work. Imagine our surprise. They haven't yet started the work we've contracted them for!</p><p class="p1">We challenged the bill, talking to the sales rep and emailing <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> RedChihuahua management, explaining all this. There was only a short reply from Michael Kirven, one of <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> RedChihuahua's co-founders. It read:</p><p class="p1"></p><p class="p1"><span><i>From: Michael Kirven michaelk@redchihuahua.com</i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i>To: me, Erika, Richard, Laurie, Iwona</i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i>Please file in small claims.</i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i>Thanks,</i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i>Mk</i></span></p><p></p><p class="p1">Naively, we figured at this point we're all going to slink into our respective corners and lick our wounds chihuahua-style, forgetting this unfortunate incident.</p><p class="p1">Alas, it was not to be!</p><p class="p1"><b><span >Step 4: Cementing the relationship, mob-style</span></b></p><p class="p1">They sued us. Really. For $350, the bill we refused to pay. They actually sued us for it.</p><p class="p1">Let's put this in perspective:</p><p class="p1">- You hire an expert mechanic to tune-up your car</p><p class="p1">- The mechanic can't pop the hood, but keeps telling you to rub the antenna, squint at the windshield and in general "tickle under the side-mirrors - cars are ticklish and the hood will pop"</p><p class="p1">- He suggest that you trade-in the car for a better model. He can help...woof woof woof</p><p class="p1">- He then bills you for "research on how to pop car hoods"</p><p class="p1">- Then sues you when you refuse to pay</p><p class="p1">They say any publicity is good publicity, right <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> RedChihuahua?</p><p class="p1">Beware the big bad <span style="text-decoration: line-through; ">BlueWolf</span> RedChihuahua!</p><p class="p1">---------------------------------------------------------</p><p class="p1"><b><span >Extras:</span></b></p><p class="p1">* Image taken from http://kallangroar.com/prime-league-youth-football/3174-sea-games-2009-semifinal-singapore-vs-vietnam-31.html</p><p class="p1">* The invoice was for: "research and communications re: slow query logging Investigated and communicated ways to enable slow query logging in RDS. Provided steps, resources and client communication."</p><p class="p1">* Yael, my business partner, send this email to Michael Kirven. We received no reply:</p><p class="p1"><span><i>Subject: Before going to court</i></span></p><p class="p1"></p><p class="p1"><span><i>Dear Mr. Kirven,</i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i><span>I'm the CEO of Lifesta. We've engaged your company to perform a review </span><span>of Lifesta's database in May 2011.</span></i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i>The project deliverables as detailed in the SOW are as follows:</i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i><span>- Examine 10 top slow queries and make recommendations on increasing </span><span>performance (2 hours)</span></i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i><span>- Examine and make recommendations around indexes depending on top 15 </span><span>queries by activity observed (2 hours)</span></i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i><span>While Lifesta's CTO, Eran Davidov, has been trying to help your team </span><span>get access to our database, he has been surprised to discover that the </span><span>team doesn't have the first idea about working with an Amazon RDS </span><span>database. He has spent multiple hours exchanging emails and phone </span><span>calls with your team effectively teaching them to access that type of </span><span>database. Even more surprising was the bill we received at the end of </span><span>June for 2 hours of work, which to our knowledge did no go towards any </span><span>of the agreed upon deliverables.</span></i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i><span>As the 2 hours of work produced neither deliverable, partially or in </span><span>full, and in fact cost us expensive work time, we asked for a </span><span>clarification regarding the status of the work and which deliverable </span><span>these hours were billed towards. We have heard absolutely nothing </span><span>back. Multiple emails and voicemails left to your team members have </span><span>produced no response except your reply to one of Eran's emails in </span><span>which you asked your team to file a claim in small claims court, and </span><span>subsequently the subpoena to appear in court. </span></i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i><span>I have spent many years in client services at McKinsey & Company and </span><span>Sun Microsystems, and never have I seen a client service company </span><span>choose to sue their clients before speaking to them. We are more than </span><span>happy to discuss the situation and reach an agreement that is </span><span>acceptable to both sides outside of court. As the founder of a client </span><span>service organization I would assume that would be more agreeable to </span><span>you as well than seeing your customers in court.</span></i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i>Thanks,</i></span></p><p class="p1"><span><i>Yael</i></span></p><p></p><p></p>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-57884402008681434162010-10-22T11:54:00.000-07:002011-03-25T12:31:49.397-07:00Simplicity<div style="background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font: normal normal normal 13px/19px Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0.6em; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0.6em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><p>(cross posted to <a href="http://blog.lifesta.com/">http://blog.lifesta.com</a> )</p><p>Engineers are not great product designers. There - I said it.</p><p>Programmers are conditioned that way, but most people tend to over-do designs. We grow up with choice and believe more choices make our lives better. That's not usually the case. Things that are simple to use are easier for people to understand and use, easier to explain, easier to sell. This doesn't mean they're simple - think of the iPhone's one button. There are a couple of others hidden away, but there's just one button you use to get its attention, go back to start, navigate.</p><p>Programmers are conditioned to over-complicate things because that's what they see when they start writing code. Programmers use components called API to write their applications. API make up the basic capabilities of the system they write the application for. Think for example of the ability to put a pixel on the screen, to draw a line, to make a sound. They all make themselves available through API (application programming interfaceS). The thing with API is that they are usually built to support a lot of things the programmer might want to do. For example do you want the line to be smooth, or jagged. Should it have round edges, or pointy ones, or maybe arrow-heads? Is it a dashed-line? what dash pattern would you like?</p><p>So much choice!</p><p>To show you how the thinking goes, let's "design" a website to tell people about the weather. What would we need?</p><p>We want the user to tell us where they are. They can use a zip code, or an address, or point on the map, right? Whatever is more convenient for them.</p><p>Then we want to show them the weather today. That means the temperature and the chance of rain or snow.</p><p>Now uncle Bob has rheumatism and he feels it in his bones when the humidity is high. Let's add humidity so the rest of the family can check up on him.</p><p>Our temperature is in farenheit, but we've got some foreign friends that came to the US and still think in Celsius, so let's give them the option to see the temperature on that weird scale.</p><p>And auntie Jane wants to know the hour-by-hour forecast so that she can know what clothes to pack for her trip to the store.</p><p>And cousin Jim wants to know what tomorrow's going to be like, so let's give him the option to see the forecast tomorrow and for the rest of the week.</p><p>Tada! We've described the swiss army knife of weather applications, something that's all things to everyone. Difficult to use, difficult to explain, and just how would you tell users why you're different than weather.com?</p><p>Now let's look at a minimalistic design for a weather app. Let's say we don't want to serve the entire world, but rather find a core set of users that will really really like our service, and will be able to explain it easily to their friends.</p><p>The folks at Thoughtbot have done just that - <a href="http://www.umbrellatoday.com/">http://www.UmbrellaToday.com</a> . The service was put together by Thoughtbot, a ruby-on-rails shop, to showcase simplicity. The service does one thing and one thing only - it sends you an email in the morning if (and only if) you need to take an umbrella with you today. It's extremely focused - it serves those people (like me) who need to know if it's going to rain on them or not, so that they can grab the umbrella on their way out the door. It won't serve aunt Jane or cousin Jim, but it will cause fans like me to use it and tell people about it.</p><p>So what do you need to do to use it? enter your email, your zip code, and the time of day you want to get the email. That's it. No options, no selections, no different views. It either works for you or it doesn't - it's that simple. And most developers will not be able to design something like this.</p><p>Would you?</p></div>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-52198023209843375202010-06-25T19:26:00.000-07:002010-06-30T22:27:16.693-07:00The Land of Dreamers<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My partner Yael and I have a notebook with ideas for new products, services and other things that could become startups.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div>To understand this statement and why it makes me shudder, I need to tell you a story first.</div></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The Fall</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>We've just launched <a href="http://www.lifesta.com/">http://www.lifesta.com</a>. Our original startup idea for auntieChef, the food-from-people-that-care-to-you-marketplace is not panning out. It doesn't really matter why (ask me if you really want the whole story) but we've decided it's not the right way to solve the healthy / better food at home problem.</div><div><br /></div><div>After spending a few weeks agonizing about how to solve it in other ways, how to kickstart the business in more innovative ways (at some point we were talking about becoming a virtual restaurant to an office building - don't ask), we've finally hit on a direction that might work.</div><div><br /></div><div>Excited, we went home for the weekend (meaning two of us stayed in NY, the third went home to Boston) and reconvened on Monday. A few hours of a very downer conversation ended up with our Bostonian partner deciding that he doesn't want to continue.</div><div><br /></div><div>We spent a couple of weeks recovering from this, and working through our idea to see how we would build it. We ended up deciding that no, we don't really think we can make it happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>So now we had a startup, two founders and no idea.</div><div><br /></div><div>The thing is, there are two types of people: execution people and idea people.</div><div><br /></div><div>And both of us are execution people.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Yin and Yang</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>The execution people take an idea, latch on to it and move forward, going around obstacles, changing parameters to solve problems that come up.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll call them executioners. (yes - I know what it means, but the point is - move forward, slay problems, get it done).</div><div><br /></div><div>Idea people are better at the random, out-of-the-blue idea.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll call them dreamers.</div><div><br /></div><div>Executioners will say: The user has a problem with the login page? no problem - we'll move things around, simplify, they'll only have to provide a password and we'll figure out the username, etc.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dreamers will say: The user has a problem with the login page? Let's have them call in instead of logging in. Let's do an anonymous service. Let's sell raw ingredients and have the people cook their own food, so we don't need to know who they are. Let's leave the food outside so people can come pick it up without telling us who they are.</div><div><br /></div><div>Both are critical to the team, but their jobs are very different.</div><div><br /></div><div>What's also interesting is that if you put a dreamer and an executioner together on a team, their roles will get even more polarized. Dreamers will provide the wilder ideas, executioners will censor, narrow down, focus the ideas.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of the ways to recognize dreamers is that they have a notebook full of ideas.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Notebooks Notebooks Everywhere</b></div><div><br /></div><div>In one of those startup meetings that lots of startup people go to in order to network, hear what others are doing and provide criticism worded in the form of polite feedback, we met Liam. Liam, a very nice guy, heard that we're in flux and offered to share an idea with us.</div><div><br /></div><div>What evolved over a series of meetings was one of the most bizarre, entertaining, flabbergasting, and all-around blog-material-generating set of conversations I've had in a long time.</div><div><br /></div><div>Liam had an idea that sounded very interesting and seemed to have potential. Since all startups are about building a company that will last and change the world, and not remotely about the most relevant exit in the form of an IPO or a sale, let's call this idea The Magic Money Factory(TM) (no illegal money counterfeiting implied).</div><div><br /></div><div>After a couple of days of thinking about The Magic Money Factory(TM) we decided that we're interested in pursuing this a bit more. We set up a meeting with Liam and asked him what he had in mind for us to move forward.</div><div><br /></div><div>He outlined that because he's bringing in the idea, and has a lot of relevant connections, he wants 40% of the company (we get the rest) and he wants to be vested immediately, like an investor. For the non-startupers of you, this means that while we'll have to work through a few years to earn our full share, he owns his immediately, even if he doesn't do anything else from now on.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's analyze this a bit:</div><div><br /></div><div>- An idea is important. In fact, an idea is a critical piece of starting a company. It's like the grain of sand that gets embedded in an oyster, and starts the pearl creation process. On the other hand, most startups end up with a different product than what they started doing, because once you start talking to customers, working through issues, etc. you'll find that you might have identified a problem, but your solution is wrong, or even that the way you described the problem is wrong. A bit of internet search will show that ideas are valued as 1-5% of the company, the rest is execution. After all, a pearl is not a grain of sand, and the iPod is not an "easy-to-use MP3 player".</div><div><br /></div><div>- The connections Liam was bringing to help The Magic Money Factory(TM) were, to stretch the allegory a bit, not money people, but cotton people. (US money is printed on a cotton / linen combination). So yes - they had some relevance, but were not really the people we needed.</div><div><br /></div><div>We tried to explain that between the two of us, we have a lot of experience in management, releasing products, marketing and executive exposure, but to no avail. Liam said that this idea is much better than a lot of other ones, and that he should know.</div><div><br /></div><div>He's got a notebook full of ideas at home.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Leggo my Ego</span></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He made it clear that this conversation was about business, not about ego.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A few minutes later he said "The reason I'm asking for 40% of the company is so that you show me that you believe enough in the idea that 10% here or there won't matter to you."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Doesn't that work both ways?", we asked.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Yes", said Liam, "but it's important for me to own 40%".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I'd like to point out that some ego is being harmed in the making of this blog entry.</span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The Piss has Gone to His Head</span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And so we went home and sent a polite refusal email saying that we can't accept those terms.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A few days later we got a message asking to meet again, to see if we can reach some agreement. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After some chitchat (as I said - Liam is a very nice person), we got down to business. The new offer was a 33% split each way. There was also a commitment to work with us on this project throughout, and a provision that if Liam leaves or stops working full time on this, his control stake would drop (though not his part of the money).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Once more we were treated to how this idea is better than most:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">First of all, it's not an idea, it's a "concept". Liam's definition is that apparently while everyone has ideas, this is a thought-out idea. And concepts are worth more. oh yes.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Second, this idea, sorry, this concept, is like an autobot: it's a car AND a robot. It can transform. It can start as a business making money, THEN become a startup getting funding. It's the swiss-army-knife of concepts. The elusive unicorn of concepts. It's a UniConcept(TM).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(remember - he has a notebook full of ideas at home. He can tell!)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The thing is, to catch a UniConcept(TM), you need a virgin startupper, commonly known as The Fool(TM).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Then we tried to understand why a person who pretty much professes to work less on the project deserves to own 33% of it. Once you start working on a startup idea, you've got no time for anything else. You focus on it, make tweaks, do everything needed to make it work.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Liam promised he will work with us full time on this idea.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I should probably explain a bit about Liam. This is how he presented his life story to us:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div>- He finished his BA from a good school, then thought about what to do with his life.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- He then started his masters in two fields, but didn't finish.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- Then he was accepted to a very prestigious economics PhD program, which he didn't finish.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- Then he started a company with a partner but they had a falling out and they, well, didn't finish.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">- And he's been working on a different idea for the past two years which, to be fair, he never quite started.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So Liam doesn't seem to have the staying power. We could pretty much predict that after a few months he'll drift along to the next idea. He acknowledged this, but said he'll commit to showing up at the office. I can already foresee the annual performance review conversation: "But I'm in the office 9-5 every day!"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He then said the thing that killed the deal for us: even if he only commits 30% of his time to the project, his contribution is going to be as powerful and meaningful as our full time.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So there - a guy with no credentials is absolutely certain that he's better than us. Isn't that nice?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Did you wonder what the "Piss has gone to his head" title meant? It's a literal translation of a Hebrew expression that means that someone is swollen-headed, has grown too big for his breeches, is self-important. I like the piss metaphor better - it explains the actual physical process that happens when you're too important to take a piss.</span></div><br />As for me, I'll have a problem working with people who have notebooks full of ideas. It seems like those ideas rarely get translated to reality.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The Liam Strikes Back</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">There were a few other </span>Liamism<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "> jewels sprinkled throughout the conversations. For example, he said he could probably get <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ben_Bernanke">Ben Bernanke</a> to be on the advisory board. You don't get it? He's sort of the head of the competition for Magic Money(TM). Oh never mind. You just don't get it.</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">"I can prove that this concept works very easily", he said. "All I have to do is grow a potato in a glass of water in my kitchen". We weren't quite sure how that would prove the point, so he explained: "it's almost like growing cotton, which is the first step to making Magic Money, sort of."</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">We had one final call with him, since he wanted to hear our counter-offer before we close the negotiations. To be fair, he was trying to be creative and come up with other ways of structuring the deal to get us on board, except we had our best offer defined and would not budge.</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">"I'm disappointed you weren't more creative. For me.", said Liam.<br /></span></b><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>The Notebook</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And so we went back to the drawing board, thinking up ideas for startups. No - not concepts. We're not smart enough for that.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What surprised us was that in a few short days of, admittedly intense, brainstorming, we came up with quite a number of ideas. It seems that if the dreamers are not on the team anymore, the executioners can actually come up with ideas. Maybe it's all the quiet that's causing us to speak up and fill the void.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We started writing them down in a notebook.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But it scares me. I'm not sure I can work with us anymore now that we have a notebook.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Eran</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">P.S. The name Liam is obviously not his real name. Liam = Living In A Movie</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div>Technorati claim code: DUTHC9SNVRAD</div></span></div>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-67037957616100215022010-03-20T18:43:00.000-07:002010-03-20T22:05:05.052-07:00Re-Coining a Term<div style="text-align: left;"><b>But first, a request</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>Please help us out and fill out this short survey. Tell your friends about it too if you can:</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.surveygizmo.com/s/258383/personal-chef-services">http://www.surveygizmo.com/s/258383/personal-chef-services</a></div><div><br /></div><div>or the short URL: <a href="http://bit.ly/9Lap3l">http://bit.ly/9Lap3l</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you!!!</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Re-Coining a term</b></div><div><br /></div>We found the the holy grail! We were walking down one of the aisles of the show and there it stood:<div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S6WHlTkmVeI/AAAAAAAAEBM/HHlZYR3aHIE/s1600-h/Piloted.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S6WHlTkmVeI/AAAAAAAAEBM/HHlZYR3aHIE/s400/Piloted.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450911998980543970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It's the perfect gift. It makes for an excellent story. It even leads itself to a picture and a puzzle.</div><div><br /></div><div>Can you guess what it is?</div><div><br /></div><div><b>1000 Foodies, but only Food Court Chow</b></div><div><br /></div><div>As part of our continuing education into the food business, the auntieChef team went to our first professional conference. I've been to a a number of conferences in the past, both as an attendant and as a booth worker. All of these conferences were technical in nature, whether for electronics or software. This one was different. <a href="http://www.internationalrestaurantny.com/">The International Restaurant & Foodservice Show of New York</a> had the same format of rows upon rows of booths with companies showing their wares, but in this case the wares were food. And you got to sample their ice cream, mango liquor or fried squid.</div><div><br /></div><div>The show is the place where companies showcase their food, machinery or other services for the restaurant business. For example, if you were looking for commercial quantities of Soy or Green tea or specialty Wasabi or silverware for your restaurant or prize Wisconsin Cheese or Organic Pork or prime beef or chef's knives or flat bread or even a company to do the interior decoration for you, that's the place to find them. They were all there, and you got to sample the Wasabi or Fortune cookie. But not the interior designer.</div><div><br /></div><div>And the only food to buy was in the Javitz Center's food court. Kind of ironic, that.</div><div><br /></div><div>And walking down one of these isles is where we found the holy grail, the can that generated a few days of gratuitous jokes, the can that will re-coin a phrase, the little can that could!</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S6WHlTkmVeI/AAAAAAAAEBM/HHlZYR3aHIE/s1600-h/Piloted.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S6WHlTkmVeI/AAAAAAAAEBM/HHlZYR3aHIE/s400/Piloted.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450911998980543970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Any guesses so far?</div><div><br /></div><div>Hint - the back of the can has a green star that looks like a quality seal. Looking closely you find that it was approved by one of the US veterans associations!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Recruiting Chefs</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Last week we visited the <a href="http://www.frenchculinary.com/aboutus-choose-french-culinary-school.htm">French Culinary Institute</a>'s career fair. The school runs intensive accredited cooking classes of 6-9 months, specializing in either French cooking, Italian cooking or Pastries. A couple of weeks back we did a tour of their classrooms and kitchens (4-5 separate ones) and were very impressed. The career fair is where students and alums of the school come to meet restaurant owners and HR reps from restaurant chains who are looking for cooks for their kitchens.</div><div><br /></div><div>I couldn't help but contrast this fair with the the ones I was used to in technical schools:</div><div><br /></div><div>First, this is a culinary school. The school has a restaurant (<a href="http://www.frenchculinary.com/lecole.htm">L'Ecole</a>), that lets the students try out a real restaurant setting. They work in the kitchen while a professional staff mans and womans) the front of the restaurant. As recruiters in the fair, we were invited to a free lunch. All I can say is - exquisite. French food done well.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then, there was a distinct power structure to the fair that's not as visible in tech fairs. In a technology fair, you'd go up to a recruiter, take a seat (or you'd both stand if there aren't any seats) and talk to them about what you want to do, while the recuiter will tell you about the company.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here, all of us recruiters sat down around the room, while students and graduates circulated and gave their resumes to the interviewers. There was a clear distinction between the sitting-down employers and the supplicant students standing trembling before them. We were surprised to see that we were the only people (at least in the room we were in) that would stand up to talk to the students.</div><div><br /></div><div>We were also the odd-company out since we weren't really recruiting anyone. We were there to tell them about our site and encourage them to check it out and sign up.</div><div><br /></div><div>The students we talked to were fascinating. There's no fixed age, since it's not a typical post-high-school college. For many of the chefs it's a second or even third career. We've met the guy who cooked since he was little, the woman who was an actress, then an administrative assistant and is now a chef, and the ex-MBA come consultant that decided cubicle life is not for him.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you're in town, check out the restaurant, L'Ecole.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>To Re-coin that term</b></div><div><br /></div><div>And now, back to our restaurant show discovery: Introducing, drum-roll please, Canned Bread.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes bread.</div><div><br /></div><div>This Japanese company has found a way to can bread. It stays "fresh" for 3 or so months and comes in a number of flavors.</div><div>They are looking for ways to market it, and their posters had such awesome suggestions as "for survival", "for long hiking trips" and "great as a giveaway at shows". We took one. As you can see - it was a great giveaway at the show :)</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S6WIHGuoThI/AAAAAAAAEBU/P29EsxG8HZ8/s1600-h/Full.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S6WIHGuoThI/AAAAAAAAEBU/P29EsxG8HZ8/s400/Full.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450912579648507410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>So remember - it's "<b>The best thing since <i>Canned</i> bread</b>"</div><div><br /></div><div><b>And Please...</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Fill out our survey and pass on the word:</div><div><div><a href="http://www.surveygizmo.com/s/258383/personal-chef-services">http://www.surveygizmo.com/s/258383/personal-chef-services</a> or the short URL: <a href="http://bit.ly/9Lap3l">http://bit.ly/9Lap3l</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks!</div><div><br /></div><div>Eran</div></div>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-65981201299762015392010-02-08T21:02:00.000-08:002010-02-08T21:03:21.387-08:00The Skepticism of Rats<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><div style="background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font: normal normal normal 13px/19px Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; padding-top: 0.6em; padding-right: 0.6em; padding-bottom: 0.6em; padding-left: 0.6em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; "><p>(Cross-posted to http://blog.auntiechef.com )</p><p>Here's an exercise in creativity. How would you start the following sentence?<br />"..., <b>as rats are very skeptical of new things</b>."</p><p>Yes, it's a real sentence I came across. Seriously. Stop for a second and think about it. What would be a good opening for it? Here are some of mine:</p><ul><li>Don't try confidence games on rats<b>, as rats are very skeptical of new things</b>.</li><li>The newest fashion is wasted on rats<b>, as rats are very skeptical of new things</b>.</li><li>Rats haven't moved from myspace to facebook<b>, as rats are very skeptical of new things</b>.</li></ul><p>If you've got good ideas, add them as comments to this post.</p><p>I'm taking the New York City online Food Protection Course, a course that all supervisors in restaurants and food establishments must take. This is not a backup career choice. It's a way to understand food safety better, and get a feel for what our Aunties (the internal nickname for sellers on auntieChef) have to go through.</p><p>Imagine my surprise as in the middle of this dry material about the proper way to wash dishes (you're all doing it wrong) and why that lasagna in the fridge must not be placed under the thawing chicken for tomorrow's dinner I suddenly come face to face with the <b>very skeptical</b> rat comment on the <a href="https://a816-healthpsi.nyc.gov/dohmhroot/dohroot/prjfpc/lesson/F2127_Lesson12_12.aspx" mce_href="https://a816-healthpsi.nyc.gov/dohmhroot/dohroot/prjfpc/lesson/F2127_Lesson12_12.aspx">food safety course</a>:</p><p>"Do not set up traps for several days to allow rats to become acclimated with the traps, as rats are very skeptical of new things."</p><p>This is so much more than rats just plain avoiding new things.</p><p>Imagine you're a rat, snooping around, minding your own business when suddenly, there's this new thing you didn't see before? You immediately rush to your friends to have a debate about it:</p><p>- Rodney, you there?<br />- Yep George. What's up?<br />- There's this new thing up there. Not sure what it is. Waddaya think?<br />- Hmm. New thing? What new thing?<br />- This thing, Rodney. This square thing with other thingies on top of it.<br />- Hmm. I'm not sure George. I know! We'll send Kenneth to check it out. He's gullible. He'll try anything.<br />- Hey Kenneth! Kenneth! Come over here a sec, we've got something for you to try. It's really cool.<br />- What is it Rodney?<br />- See that thing over there? It's a new Rat game. Go ahead - try it out. Jump on it a few times. Food will come out.<br />- Cool! Let me take a running leap and j... <snap><br />- Well George, now we know. Stay away from it. I knew not to trust these new things.</p><p>Or maybe it means rats don't like change?</p><p>- Hey George, we're planning tonight's run. Your path is through there, as always. Just go around that new thing there.<br />- But we've always run that part straight, Rodney. It's the way we've always done it. Why should we change now? If it ain't broke and all that.<br />- Well George, would you believe it's because the competition is coming out with a new business model that will cause our sales to drop? No? Ok - just run it the way we've always done it.<br />- Hey Rodney, it's not a probl... <snap></p><p>Well, off to the next chapter in the course where I'll find out which diseases can kill me when I eat at restaurants.</p><p>Don't forget to comment on this post, as rats are very skeptical of new things.</p><div><br /></div></div></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-48312479779905093462010-01-16T19:53:00.000-08:002010-01-17T22:44:55.816-08:00The Land of the Cooks<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S1OdxP7RofI/AAAAAAAAD_A/l6nXFvo5AP0/s400/sprout.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427855445325881842" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 39px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b>New Beginnings</b></span></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><br /></b></span></b></span></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">I'm on a life-changing trip. One of my managers once told me that when reorganizations happen, you have to look at two things:</div></span></b></div><div><ul><li><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">Is your manager still the same? </div></span></b></li><li><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">Is your job still the same?</div></span></b></li></ul>If none of these changed, you probably won't feel the impact. If only one of these changed, you have a base to build from, but if both changed, you have to pay attention.</div><div><br /></div><div>After 12 years at Sun, where I've gained most of my professional experience, I've decided it was time for, as Monty Python put it, Something Completely Different (SCD).</div><div><br /></div><div>And so to make sure there's never a dull moment, I've changed my job, my boss and the place I live in.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>SCD I - A Tale of Two Yaels</b></div><div><br /></div><div>I am now living in New York City, the Big Apple, Gotham, the City that Never Sleeps...</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">Over the years, I've moved to progressively larger and slightly more expensive apartment, starting with the 5-people-in-a-dorm-room I had during my army service. That all changed when I moved from Israel to the US, got an apartment with one room less but 4 times the rent.</div></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">New York did that to me again - one room less, 25% more rent. Amazing!</div></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">The apartment hunting was very educational. I focused on Manhattan's upper east side for a location. The first set of apartments, let's call them "discount apartments", had what you might call character. For example, one of them had a bedroom connected through the living room. Both were about the size of my couch. The agent insisted that two<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "> (2!!!)<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "> couples lived in that apartment. I can only assume some sort of open relationship. I can't imagine going to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and having to check if there's a sock on your own door and you can't leave.</div></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">I found another apartment for rent posted on a sign outside a building. Calling the number on the sign I asked if I can move in a month later. The agent said "by now, it shouldn't be a problem". A small warning light went off in my head, but still - a cheap, 2 room apartment. Worth checking, right?</div></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div><div>We met the super (short for superintendent) later that evening and he walked us up a flight of stairs. "We" is me and my local expert, YaelG, who probably hates the public mention and won't speak to me for a week, but thank you for all the help! We walked up a couple of flights of stairs. Some of these steps noticeably sagged under me as I climbed. <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">A small warning light went off in my head, but still - a cheap, 2 room apartment. Worth checking, right?</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>We then followed the super to the apartment at the end of the hallway. I was getting a slightly claustrophobic feeling that the walls were closing in on me, and indeed by the time we reached the door, my shoulders were touching both sides of the hallway at once. <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">A small warning light went off in my head, but still - a cheap, 2 room apartment. Worth checking, right?</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">The door on the right had a sign on it and the super explained that they just evicted the tenant there since she had a pet and that's not allowed. Really? The pet was the problem? <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">A small warning light went off in my head, but still - a cheap, 2 room apartment. Worth checking, right?</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">We went into the apartment on the left. The super explained that he can't turn on the lights since the previous tenant (also evicted) didn't pay her electric bill. An emergency firework beacon goes off in my head. No light this time - there's no electricity.</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">The apartment was big enough for me to take a step from wall to wall. Surprisingly, the shower was bigger than the kitchen (and please remember that bigger is a relative term).</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">We thanked the super and emergency-evacuated ourselves out of there.</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">Another type of apartment is the managed property one, where a company owns he building and rents out apartments. The places are cleaner, well maintained, have a doorman and elevator, and obviously higher rent. They also have a whole bunch of rules for who can rent. For example:</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">- No registered sex-offenders (ok - that's good)</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">- No criminal record (that's great)</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">- Salary must be 50x the rent.</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">wait what?</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">Let's do the math. At, say, $2500/mo that comes up to $125,000/yr salary. Oh - you're staring a new company? No salary yet? No problem - all you have to show is that you have 5x that number in the bank. A quick check with my trusty calculator shows that if I had $625,000 in the bank, I might not be starting a new company.</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">I did eventually manage to find an apartment I liked though. And so I packed up most of my worldly belonging with the extremely helpful hand of YaelW (a different Yael, who will probably call to tell me how people saw her name in my blog and will probably also tweet about it). Thank you Yael!</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; ">So here I am. I know exactly 2 people in this city. Hopefully that will change soon.</div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b></span></b></div><div><br /></div><div><b>SCD II - <a href="http://www.auntiechef.com/">auntieChef.com</a></b></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S1OeYJE4zsI/AAAAAAAAD_Q/cRDqJu29qHk/s400/logo.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427856113502047938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 131px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The </span>other big change is that I've started a company with two of my friends. Our goal is to enable small-time prepared food producers to reach customers who are looking for healthier, homier food but don't have time to cook. You can check us out on <a href="http://www.auntiechef.com/">http://www.auntieChef.com</a>. It's a marketplace for homestyle food. If you cook - you can open up a "kitchen" on our site. If you're looking for a different kind of cooking than restaurant food or frozen TV dinners, you can go there and search for whatever strikes your fancy. We are currently looking for cooks, especially cooks in the Boston area. If you know any - please please send them our way. You can even do the referral through out site, in which case we'll donate some funds to charity. For details - check out out <a href="http://www.auntiechef.com/referrals/seller_details">referral program</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Why auntie? Because everyone has that aunt (or Uncle - we're an equal opportunity referrer to your childhood) or a friend of the family that used to cook that good food you remember so well. Don't you want to find that again?</div><div><br /></div><div>This is a completely new operation for me. I've moved from working on Java environments for embedded devices, to a consumer-facing web application. There's a lot of drinking through the fire hose going on!</div><div><br /></div><div>The kind of discussions we're having are also very different than what I was used to at Sun. For example - there's the great squiggly rift of '09 where we eventually decided to have straight lines for the boxes on the site. Or the session where we discussed the market of fresh-off-the-boat engineers craving food like mom's, or if we should focus marketing on menopausal women (we're not!!!). But I had to learn what Spanx is and what their branding strategy is. Don't ask.</div><div><br /></div><div>We also had a lot of discussions about what our tagline should be. A good tagline is important - gets people to remember you, refer friends, etc. The one we all liked was "<b>making food personal agai</b>n". A quick google search showed that is wasn't being used by anyone else, but some similar slogans are being used. For example, what's your take on "making menstruation personal again"? It doesn't really speak to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then thre's Pot. No - not the medical kind. I'd like you to meet Pot. He's a resident of auntieChef land and it took us a while to figure out what he should be. Anything from a fork to an auntie to a spatula was considered. And when we talked about femininity vs. masculinity, Swaroop (one of the partners) coined the phrase that will forever go down in auntieChef history: "Just throw a wig on it".</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S1OfdsyaF_I/AAAAAAAAD_Y/kAO2r5ewg24/s400/404_pot.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427857308499187698" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 220px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Pot is the creation of the incredibly talented <a href="http://raimondiphotography.com/?pageID=256210">Melissa Raimondi</a>.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>So to sum this up - I'm having tons of fun, learning lots of new things, AND if you know any cooks, <a href="http://www.auntiechef.com/referrals/seller_details">send them our way</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><b>Creativity beyond the Wall</b></div></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the known methods for </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">generating n</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ew ideas is to start generating a list, then when you think you've hit a wall and don't have any more, keep going. At a certain point, your brain finds avenues you haven't explored and a lot of your more creative ideas will come then.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Here at auntieChef (I so wanted to sound like a documentary) we have to test our site. There are 2 main platforms (windows, mac) and too many browsers (Firefox, IE, Safari, Chrome, Opera) each with a different set of versions. So before each 'release' we have to make sure the core functionality works and that we didn't break the UI too badly.</div><div><br /></div><div>This implies opening kitchens on the site and populating them with fake dishes. Now you try doing that day after day and eventually you hit that wall of creativity. To give you an example of some of the kitchens we now have on our testing site:</div><div>- Eran's Lemonade Stand</div><div>- Swaroop's Frozen Food Emporium</div><div>- BlahBlahBlah kitchen</div><div>- Delete this kitchen</div><div>- The fisherman's refuge</div><div>- A to the C</div><div><br /></div><div>Not to mention cooks that were influenced by their father in a little village by the Jordan river, or their mother in The Shire, etc. The dishes get more exotic, from pink lemonade (made from Prigat) to "An Arm and a Leg" actually referring to the price.</div><div><br /></div><div>And in case any of my former QA team is reading this, I'd like to proudly state that we have a continuous integration server running on a 5 minute cycle with 71% code coverage (and climbing!).</div><div><br /></div><div>Our company right now looks like the picture of the sprout at the top of the page. Hopefully, the future looks more like this. I wish everyone a year of happiness and growth!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/S1Od9MsItbI/AAAAAAAAD_I/Hj2H-_iP-HQ/s400/growth.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427855650615506354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 152px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div><div style="display: inline !important; ">Eran</div></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><div style="display: inline !important; "><br /></div></span></b></div></span></b></div></span></b>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-41130181921235117492009-08-22T20:50:00.000-07:002009-08-22T23:04:31.534-07:00Have Brother, Will Travel to Baja<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yVa-Tu6UCPNCV_1l1IDk7A?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNB8xfksI/AAAAAAAADwY/Gxp3JNPbX4E/s400/IMG_0406.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Omer has been visiting with me for the past couple of weeks. We decided to go on a trip and were debating the location until about 2 days before we left. We finally decided on Baja California, the western-most part of Mexico.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">But First a Puzzle</span><br /><br />Can you tell what this is?<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/eMyuerBCg79kcvhv-b_IEQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNBQkkmqI/AAAAAAAADwM/vSf5Y1OCWgo/s400/IMG_0397-cropped.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br />Anyway, airline tickets were fairly trivial, with miles covering the trip and dollars covering the airline's ticket cost. Really. I'm not sure what the miles were for.<br /><br />Obtaining a rental car was more difficult. The phone call went something like this:<br /><br />Eran: Hi - do you rent cars from San Diego that can be driven south into Baja?<br /><br />Company 1 rep (C1): Yes.<br /><br />Eran: Can they drive all the way south into Baja.<br /><br />C1: You can go as far as 250M south of the border.<br /><br />Eran: Is that enough to go south all the way?<br /><br />C1: I'm not sure. I'm not at that location.<br /><br />Eran: I'm not at that location either.<br /><br />A pregnant pause begets crickets that go on to sing imaginary songs until I give up and go check in google maps. 250 miles won't cover it.<br /><br />Company 2 (they DO try harder) let me drive all the way south to the North 28 parallel line. The agent promised me that covers Baja. It doesn't.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cars and the Mexican way</span><br /><br />The Mexican border is one of the strangest ones I've ever seen. You drive south on highway 5, then there's sign that you're approaching the border, then you're on the other side. You don't even stop. No passports, no checks, nada.<br /><br />Then start the more exotic views. First thing coming out of the border crossing and driving south, you see a large Costco. Quickly after that are many other North American chains. We left Tijuana quickly.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Overcompensating I</span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/uVqi6GDoUuNUq8pxsyiahw?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCM_V7oO_I/AAAAAAAADvg/D9o8DwR7HtU/s400/IMG_0333.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Our first stop was in Ensenada, some 100 miles south of the border. The town is a fishing and tourist town with a nice waterfront and shopping area. Cruise ships do day stops there and the tourist walk up and down the area. Once the ship leaves though, the stores close down. It was a Saturday, so the locals also went out at night and we had a nice evening people watching.<br /><br />Before we left for the trip, my dad asked where we'll sleep. I asked him the riddle about where an 8 ton elephant sleeps. (anywhere it wants). We had no problem finding lodgings throughout this trip.<br /><br />Walking around we noticed a huge flag of Mexico waving over the town. To get a feel for the size, see if you can find Omer in this picture:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FlElY3XhDaSuVSEk3GSNgQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNOEQD7aI/AAAAAAAADzE/waSLCYbT6Fc/s800/DSC_0235.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Ok. Here's a hint:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4tVpDc1NNHG4Ic-spvasxg?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNPMYtOHI/AAAAAAAADzI/WOyUyDRuTtg/s400/DSC_0236.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The other reason people travel to Mexico (other than tourism) is for cheap prescription medicine (unhealthy, sometime imitation). Pharmacies are as prevalent as tourist gift shops. One had a list of all special medicine available in it, including this picture to help everyone understand:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/3U5nwRtW0AQBCyrpBcjDYQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpDbBfJJY6I/AAAAAAAAD24/NY-XczTsppo/s400/DSC_0010.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Other than that, pharmacies also sold Vanilla extract. We're not quite sure what the deal is. I can't see a tourist going in and saying: "Give me 10 packs of Cialis, 2 Viagra, some muscle relaxers. And throw in some Vanilla. For the kids, you know."<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/vJptw3BU2dLi_iGtVtFK7g?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNBPuRHbI/AAAAAAAADwI/5zYvJgVl2sU/s400/IMG_0395.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Overcompensating II</span><br /><br />The following day we continued south. Our original goal was a town called Guerrero Negro, halfway down the peninsula. We quickly realized that we won't get there in one day. In fact, the maximum legal speed when outside towns was around 80km. The roads are good, but have one lane only and turn through the mountains, limiting the speed with which you can travel.<br /><br />The first half of that day was a bit of mountains and a lot of Mexican small town scenery. If you've ever seen Fresno, downgrade a bit and you'll know what to expect. The only difference is that with the exception of bigger towns, villages are mostly stretched out along the road itself.<br /><br />At some point we decided to give up, stop a couple of hundred of km south, then drive up through a parallel road on the other side of the peninsula, that would lead us to a fishing village. We didn't quite make it that first day - we reached the road, but it was late and the "road" (marked on the map as an interstate highway, "graded dirt road") didn't seem easy to travel at night.<br /><br />Instead we traveled down to Bahia de Los Angeles (Angels Bay) on the sea of Cortez. Somewhere midway, the scenery changed completely. We left the urban area and climbed up to the valley of the Cirios (also known as Boojum trees). The valley stretches a big part of the Baja peninsula and is filled with Cacti of every kind. What impressed us was the shape, and the sheer size of some of these:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_Q6GvzCo9G2f8mhf_Mkwqg?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNJqq8CNI/AAAAAAAADyk/wD88dAh2wSU/s400/DSC_0205.JPG" /></a><br />(The Cirio is the tree on the left)<br /><br />These are the Cardons:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/BrENXphpGoixVHOflwk-XQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNHswsfUI/AAAAAAAADyI/2QhOGSMZD1U/s800/DSC_0123.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9bykSgskS5570hWs0pMf4A?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNHZuRzsI/AAAAAAAADyE/h0YcSbGW5HU/s800/DSC_0108.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I'm Popeye the Sailor Man</span><br /><br />The next morning we took a boat ride on the sea of Cortez. The sea is the body of water between Baja California and mainland Mexico. There are lots of islands in the area and other than fishing, there are sharks and whales to see.<br /><br />Our guide and boat driver, Martin, did not speak a word of English, but could easily wave at the things we should look at.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/HkpmYI3IFAW-OdVvaPJbJw?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNC4TyGcI/AAAAAAAADws/oDo-3kMWDOQ/s400/IMG_0478.JPG" /></a><br />(notice his tattoo - all that's missing is the pipe!)<br /><br />First thing, he found us a baby Whale Shark to look at. It was about 2-3m long (6-9 feet) and was leisurely swimming a few feet away from the boat.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/goxmNQTMcKBMigJ5lFb4Sg?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNI_uVtYI/AAAAAAAADyc/n6WXyL_62d0/s400/DSC_0160.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The road to Coco's Corner</span><br /><br />We then went back on the road driving north this time, looking for that split in the road that would take us to the fishing village, San Felipe. The split is near a town called Chapala. We saw the sign, but had to turn around a couple of times until we realized that yes - those two buildings (1 a restaurant, 1 a store) WERE Chapala.<br /><br />We took the dirt road and started driving. It quickly became clear that the car, a sedan, was not really suited to this. We drove slowly, aiming for a stop at Coco's corner, another marker on the map and the only one between us and a village on the coast.<br /><br />Here's Coco's corner:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/f-JRiPnLLvu_yRY0xpMpGw?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNDDHuGuI/AAAAAAAADww/MuqwhAUsdBY/s400/IMG_0490.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Coco's corner is a cleared area 100m (300ft) on the side, surrounded by beer-can-strung wires and a few vehicles. The main shed held a raised car that looked like it was being worked on. We stopped and looked around, then suddenly Coco emerged from behind the car.<br /><br />Apparently he's living there by himself for quite a while. People stop by and he sells them soda or beer, talks with them and sends them on their way. Coco's shed is decorated with underwear and shirts of previous visitors...<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kbydm5r8lU9CzVK0HocXhg?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNLKixyEI/AAAAAAAADy0/i8YpPvStssQ/s400/DSC_0220.JPG" /></a><br /><br />... as well as a huge pair sent by some devoted fan.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/MUvr_NkPOBTCj6qARttF_A?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNJz9A4fI/AAAAAAAADyo/WwWaNZ8wLO8/s400/DSC_0208.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Coco was very clear that we're unlikely to make the road to San Felipe with our car. It would take luck, and if the transmission broke, there's no one to come bail us out. It didn't take much convincing to turn us around.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Back to Ensenada</span><br /><br />And so, tail between our proverbial legs, we turned back to the main road to drive north to Ensenada. The drive itself was no less fascinating, with Cirios and Cardons and other plants surrounding us. At a certain point, we had to slow down quickly to avoid turning a road runner into road kill. It slowly walked across the road, looking at us the whole time.<br /><br />Had we been Wiley E. Coyote, I don't think it would have survived.<br /><br />Radio reception throughout these two days was patchy to non-existent. The radio's scan feature would run around and around for an hour at a time, finally stopping on a channel it could catch as we crested a hill. A few feet later, static would once more be our companion. In fact, most times we'd suddenly find a channel just as the commercials were going on. As the song started, the channel would fade away. Even mountain ranges shape themselves to market forces. Capitalism rules!<br /><br />Getting closer to Ensenada, we were able to get more and more radio. Most channels were from California, but some were in Spanish. At a certain point Britney and a Spanish-speaking singer were competing for airtime during "Circus".<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Unknown Celebrity</span><br /><br />After a night in Ensenada, we set our sights on Tijuana's famous nightlife. We arrived before noon, found a place for two elephants to sleep, then went to tour the main strip, Calle Revolucion. There are many stores catering to tourists, selling statues, trinkets, food, etc. There were also a number of Mexican Zebras, a variant of the common white Donkey that were painted with black stripes then put to stand on street corners to take pictures with tourists.<br /><br />But there were no tourists.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/h8v2sTFvTc_PX5bVi8ZMQA?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNPpeSYTI/AAAAAAAADzQ/tyq-KEZ3s3s/s400/DSC_0258.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Apparently while this is the tourist season, the place is only alive and rocking on the weekends when many people cross the border to come visit Tijuana. During the week, the place is deserted.<br /><br />We stopped for lunch at an empty restaurant / pub / club. As we were going to our 2nd floor table overlooking the main strip, a good looking couple sitting at a nearby table nervously eyed me and my camera. Even though the lens cover was on and the camera was on the chair the entire time we were there, the couple kept sneaking glances our way. We're not sure who needs to be more embarrassed: us for not recognizing either of them, or them for expecting to be recognized.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Really Northern Baja California</span><br /><br />It's a little known fact that if you drive north in Tijuana, all the way towards the US, you'll eventually reach a zoo. A large zoo. One of the nicest in the world. We spent our last day in San Diego at the zoo, touring the surprisingly lively gas light district and going to the beach on a cloudy day with freezing water. We did see dolphins though...<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4l-omp7P9XgiWV4EPL01ow?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNUXYSplI/AAAAAAAADz8/rpY40BYcoJY/s400/DSC_0322.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4jJRvzUhksNiHe1IeEWUOQ?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNSjrZeNI/AAAAAAAADzk/68IFS7AO7sc/s400/DSC_0292.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Puzzle Solution</span><br />The picture at the top is cropped from the following:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/EnwH_NNA8gqo8jSrb-hLVg?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuViJiHrsLLLQ&feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCNBSthr0I/AAAAAAAADwQ/Niz4dAqX2U8/s288/IMG_0397.JPG" /></a><br /><br />It marks road bumps. There was only one bump. Very disappointing, I know.<br /><br />The rest of the album can be viewed at:<br /><br /><table style="width:194px;"><tr><td align="center" style="height:194px;background:url(http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoAug09?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/SpCM_HxBriE/AAAAAAAAD24/ZcmX1Sn61wc/s160-c/MexicoAug09.jpg" width="160" height="160" style="margin:1px 0 0 4px;" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align:center;font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:11px"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoAug09?feat=embedwebsite" style="color:#4D4D4D;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;">Mexico-Aug09</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Baja+California" rel="tag">Baja California</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Omer+Davidov" rel="tag">Omer Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Tijuana" rel="tag">Tijuana</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Mexico" rel="tag">Mexico</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Ensenada" rel="tag">Ensenada</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Bahia+de+Los+Angeles" rel="tag">Bahia de Los Angeles</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Cirios" rel="tag">Cirios</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Cardon" rel="tag">Cardon</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Road+Runner" rel="tag">Road Runner</a></span><br /><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Baja+California" rel="tag">Baja California</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Omer+Davidov" rel="tag">Omer Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Tijuana" rel="tag">Tijuana</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Mexico" rel="tag">Mexico</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Ensenada" rel="tag">Ensenada</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Bahia+de+Los+Angeles" rel="tag">Bahia de Los Angeles</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Cirios" rel="tag">Cirios</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Cardon" rel="tag">Cardon</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Road+Runner" rel="tag">Road Runner</a></span><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-25596375115883193082008-05-28T21:16:00.000-07:002008-06-01T23:12:42.753-07:00Suddenly Mexico City<span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >The "Plan"</span><br /><br />A number of things happen when you go from sea level to 2200 meters above (7200 feet). The obvious one is that you suddenly aren't getting as much oxygen as you'd like and if you're also out of shape, don't expect to climb any strange pyramids that might come your way. More surprising is what happens to your shaving cream. The one in a tube, not the pressurized container. The one that had air inside, air that expended and was looking for a way out. Air that pushes half the shaving cream out when you open it 2km higher than where it was closed. I hope you had a lot of beard.<br /><br />Unlike my dad's planning method which rivals a military operation's in its details, my planning process was roughly like this:<br /><br />>>> Tuesday, May 13th<br />1PM - drove to store, bought the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy, also known as the Lonely Planet guide for Mexico.<br />3PM - bought the ticket online.<br />8PM - the plane's doors were closed, we kept our seats in the upper-right position and our seat-belts buckled and took off.<br /><br />>>>Wednesday, May 14th<br />Bienvenido a Mexico!<br /><br />Of course I had no hotel reserved, but Don't Panic! I consulted the Lonely Planet guide as to good hotels and areas. When I got out of the Mexico City airport, I took a taxi then started walking around with my luggage looking for one. It took about 10 minutes to find where I'll be staying.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">(Another) Center of the World</span></span><br /><br />Mexico City sits on what used to be Lake Texcoco, a lake 2km (1.5 mile) above sea level. The local tribes have lives in the area since 10000BC and have farmed it since 7500. Today, there's very little left of the lake that's been drying up for the past 9000 years.<br /><br />The story goes that in the 14th century, the Aztec tribe, fleeing from a foe, came upon an eagle sitting on a cactus and eating a snake. This, of course, was a divine symbol that here is the place to build a new city and so they did. The statue is supposedly in the same place where they saw the original cactus-snake-eagle trio.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204857918521962786"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtes0vhcSI/AAAAAAAAB9A/fFwLYn51lig/s800/DSC_0068-20080514.jpg" /></a><br /><br />The Aztec built temples to their gods and palaces for their kings. They grew an empire and ruled a city of about 250,000 people until Cortes the conquistador came to visit in 1519. What transpired between Moctezuma and Cortes left the population depleted and the city razed to the ground.<br /><br />The Spanish proceeded to build their on city on top of the remains and this is what the center looks like today.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204857703773597778"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtegUvhcFI/AAAAAAAAB7U/iRWeiOrzKH0/s800/DSC_0024-20080514.jpg" /></a><br /><br />During a construction in the mid 20th century, workers came upon a large statue of a god and the authorities decided to dig. What was discovered, right next to the cathedral, were the remains of the main temple. The temple was mostly destroyed when the Spanish took over, then turned into a garbage heap. There was not much above street level, but you can see in the pictures the different phases of expansion of the temple (each king's ego begets a new wall), and some of the statues that remain from that time. The original temple had two altars at the top where human sacrifices were performed and the heart placed in this surprised guy's cup.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204857832622616786"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDten0vhcNI/AAAAAAAAB8U/Zpe3Biz3eqk/s800/DSC_0049-20080514.jpg" /></a><br /><br />You can also see the shrine to the underworld, this wall of skulls.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204857854097453282"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtepEvhcOI/AAAAAAAAB8c/kJTp6hah0VU/s800/DSC_0059-20080514.jpg" /></a><br /><br />It's interesting to see the temple along side the old cathedral and the more modern building surrounding the main square.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204857798262878386"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtel0vhcLI/AAAAAAAAB8E/JIm-3RPLv48/s800/DSC_0041-20080514.jpg" /></a><br /><br />This place, according to Aztec tradition, is the center of the world. I'm intrigued at what religion doesn't believe it is situated near or at the center of the world.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Subway Etiquette<br /></span><br />There are a number of dangers in Mexico City. Foremost is traffic - watch where you're going. Next is pick pockets looking for your spare change so always separate your daily money from your credit cards, wallet, etc. Then there's kidnapping (about 4 a day in the city). My solution: sit down if anyone tries to kidnap me and let's see what they'll do then.<br /><br />Then there are the taxis. Specifically, the driver takes you somewhere where his friends jump into the cab and they rob you at gunpoint. Only take taxis recommended by establishments or ordered by phone. Except for to and from the airport, I only used the subway.<br /><br />Mexico city's subway will take you all over the city with only one thing you need to worry about: Don't take line 1 east during rush hour.<br /><br />A couple of years ago I was in Toronto, Canada and I took the subway during rush hour. It was winter so I was bundled in a heavy coat and had a backpack. Standing in the doorway of the cabin, I took up a good chunk of the door. When the train stopped people moved around me to get out. I had earphones on so it took me a while to realize that they were grumbling quite loudly that I should step down to let everyone out, that I was a jerk, etc., etc. But none of them asked. Not growing up near a subway it didn't even occur to me.<br /><br />Now in case you ever find yourself in Mexico City, let me give you some hints on south-of-the-border subway etiquette. It took me a couple of days to undersand that being the first to stand near the door before the train stops does not guarantee being the first to get in. Reflexes and speed matter, as well as what space the people coming out of the train leave.<br /><br />But when rush hour hits, and no one gets off the train, the story changes. Groups of people congregate where the door of the train will be. When the train stop, everyone starts pushing into the train, with the first people trying to push through the already sardine-packed doorway. The cabin is considered full when there's no space to move and only the people at the doorway need to hold themselves in place so that the internal pressure does not push them out. As the door closes they suck their stomachs in.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204863540634154114"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtj0EvhdII/AAAAAAAACEA/iw7b1X5KiBs/s800/IMG_0027-20080519.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Needless to say it took me 4 trains before I managed to get on - it was a relatively empty train. I made my way to the back to have a bit of peace from all the pushing. Unfortunately at the next stop we stopped for close to 40 minutes and by then we were completely full. Or so I thought, until the next stop a couple of men got onto the train by taking a head start and jumping into the on-board crowd, forcing their way in.<br /><br />Now you may think getting off is easy with all these people on board, but let me tell you, careful planning is required. As we stopped at the station I needed, I started pushing through the crowd to get out. While people will wiggle around to give you a bit of space, no one would get off the train. (They haven't met the grumbling Canadians). Add to that the stream of people pushing right back to get in and you get stalemate. After a couple of minutes of pushing, the train's doors closed and I was still 2/3 away from the door (I was standing opposite the door when we stopped). The next stop got me halfway across. By the next stop, everyone realized I was trying to exit the train. While no one would move for fear of losing their spot, they were certainly helpful. And so, as the door opened, a couple of guys behind me started pushing, helping me "fly" out of the train.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Teotihuacan</span><br />Some 1900 years ago, the ancient city of Teotihuacan was at its highest. It's unclear who built the city. It's not attributed to the Aztec nor the Toltec since both cultures came later than the city's fall. The city at its height was bigger than any european city of its time.<br /><br />The city is divided into four sections by two perpendicular avenues, the longest of the two called the avenue of the dead by the Aztec, since they could not imagine how men could build such huge buildings. Instead, they assumed it was the gods who built tombs for the men of old.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw4AM8Ath2Yxm-9QMiuemJlpT7ZCeuoRb9L8hDNPNdsmX0A9dvQB65RETBoF7WaQfGwkC8OUDzDPSo' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />The city's most impressive features are the pyramids of the Sun and the Moon, dominating the view throughout the avenue.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5207138932703196306"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SEN5RUvhdJI/AAAAAAAACFQ/wHye1m8stEw/s800/DSC_0109-20080516.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The pyramid of the Sun is the 3rd largest in the world, after the Egyptian Cheops pyramid and another pyramid in Mexico. It's 222m to a side, 70m high (230 feet). It was built around 100AD and if you find that amazing, consider that the local culture had no metal, no pack animals and no wheel.<br /><br />What they lacked in technology, they made up for in very tall steps. And I bet you they could sprint to the top.<br /><br />Interestingly enough archaeologists now think the pyramid may have been in honor of a water deity, not the Sun, due to the moat that originally surrounded it.<br /><br />The smaller but more impressive is the pyramid of the moon which you can approach along the avenue of the dead. Surrounded by other temples, it looms above you as you approach.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204860551336915442"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDthGEvhcfI/AAAAAAAAB-s/tWLAGdPnGyk/s800/DSC_0117-20080516.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Boats and Magic and Dolls, Oh My!</span><br /><br />I spent one day going to markets and looking at how the locals shop. While the Merced market is huge and spans a few blocks, it is not interesting except for the puzzle it holds for the first time visitor. Once you exit the metro station, can you ever find it again? The building is not visible from outside since stalls are arrayed around it and you have to ask or guess to stumble into it.<br /><br />Next to it is the magic market, or Mercado Sonora. Stalls sell many kinds of herbs and powders used in local magic. A few stalls also specialize in imported magic. Take this stall for example where you can find Christian and Jewish symbols, angel-of-death figures, baby dolls and trolls.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204863467619710034"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtjv0vhdFI/AAAAAAAACDo/TxKnLic6yyA/s800/DSC_0260-20080519.JPG" /></a><br /><br />yes - trolls. Ugly as hell trolls. I bought 20.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204863437554938946"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtjuEvhdEI/AAAAAAAACDg/kNWTJcrGHzM/s800/DSC_0259-20080519.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I've also reaffirmed my belief that Mexican food south of the border sucks. The American version is much better, something I wouldn't say about many other americanized ethnic foods. Even following recommendations from the guide, I only found one place I'd go back to to try out other dishes. On the other hand, can you tell what's being served in this place:<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204863368835462178"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtjqEvhdCI/AAAAAAAACDQ/96fia5kY79Q/s800/IMG_0026-20080519.JPG" /></a><br /><br />To add the obligatory (and always relaxing) boat excursion to this trip, I traveled to the south of the city where what's left of the original lake can still be found. The area, called Xochimilco, is still farmed by the locals. The process involves scooping mud from the lake and concentrating it in an area that then becomes an island. The island is fenced with wire so that the mud doesn't leak out too quickly and this becomes a field.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204862557086642818"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDti60vhcoI/AAAAAAAAB_4/3G48nEPgsCE/s800/DSC_0167-20080518.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Flat boats sitting around 20 people are available for hire in the channels left by the fields. The boat has a long table, chairs, and a boatman. You bring your own food and drink and slowly float along the canals, being propelled by the boatman using a very long pole. I'm sure I didn't pay enough for the 3.5 hour ride he took me on, so I helped a bit.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzwIj54_xaF6wtSF1KIaFS6uSpDgo1rF842iQd2sLcDV16am6hostPx3cHdqi9AgVTW02uMxHMjyDc' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />Pepper and I (because I finally remembered to take pepper out of the suitcase) anxiously awaited our visit to <span style="font-weight: bold;">La Isla De La Munecas</span> [sonido del trueno], also known as <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Island of the Dolls</span> [sound of thunder].<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204862509842002546"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDti4EvhcnI/AAAAAAAAB_w/HoDnvtffKDc/s800/DSC_0159-20080518.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Life comes your way on the lake, and you can find boats with food and drink and even boats where for $5 this trio will play a song for you.<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204862449712460354"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDti0kvhckI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/16uSN1gwjWU/s800/DSC_0143-20080518.JPG" /></a><br /><br />But we were set on getting to <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Island of the Dolls</span> [sound of thunder]. The first glimpse of it was this vicious camouflaged guard rabbit.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204863334475723794"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtjoEvhdBI/AAAAAAAACDI/C2QIYeid4G8/s800/DSC_0242-20080518.JPG" /></a><br /><br />And then we were there, the <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Island of the Dolls</span> [sound of thunder]. Climbing out of the boat you could feel the atmosphere getting heavy with the spirits of dolls past. Welcome to <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Island of the Dolls</span> [sound of thunder].<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204863295821018114"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtjl0vhdAI/AAAAAAAACDA/pVN3B14LBes/s800/DSC_0241-20080518.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The island's eccentric (read screwed up in the head) owner, Don Julian, believed his island was haunted by a spirit. In order to appease it, he fished dolls out of the water and hung them on trees and in cabins throughout his island. The dolls where not maintained and the atmosphere is decidedly gruesome.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204862685935661762"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtjCUvhcsI/AAAAAAAACAc/_kGQOioU7o8/s800/DSC_0186-20080518.JPG" /></a><br /><br />And when you step into the little cabin where the Spanish-only explanation said lots of words I didn't understand, there was Chucky, looking over his domain.<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204862724590367442"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtjEkvhctI/AAAAAAAACAk/NUBv3g3lmdk/s800/DSC_0189-20080518.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Needless to say Pepper hung out with some of the dolls before we sailed back.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08/photo?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc#5204863051007882114"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtjXkvhc4I/AAAAAAAACB8/lnXrw5bkTH8/s800/DSC_0207-20080518.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Full album at:<br /><table style="width:194px;"><tr><td align="center" style="height:194px;background:url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/eran.davidov/SDtebUvhcAE/AAAAAAAACFg/JASS08bTiEo/s160-c/MexicoCity08.jpg" width="160" height="160" style="margin:1px 0 0 4px;" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align:center;font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:11px"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MexicoCity08?authkey=N80GEX_xpKc" style="color:#4D4D4D;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;">MexicoCity<wbr></wbr>08</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ></span><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Mexico" rel="tag">Mexico</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Mexico+City" rel="tag">Mexico City</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Teotihuacan" rel="tag">Teotihuacan</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Aztec" rel="tag">Aztec</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Island+of+the+Dolls" rel="tag">Island of the Dolls</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Subway" rel="tag">Subway</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span><br /><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Mexico" rel="tag">Mexico</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Mexico+City" rel="tag">Mexico City</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Teotihuacan" rel="tag">Teotihuacan</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Aztec" rel="tag">Aztec</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Island+of+the+Dolls" rel="tag">Island of the Dolls</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Subway" rel="tag">Subway</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-79617450485167895712007-09-05T08:25:00.000-07:002007-09-06T21:41:37.542-07:00Canadaventure in the Rockies Part 2 - Tragedy at Sunwapta Falls<span style="font-size:130%;">Onwards to Jasper<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfpSoR47I/AAAAAAAABbE/jT3I2oANzu4/DSC_0056.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfpSoR47I/AAAAAAAABbE/jT3I2oANzu4/DSC_0056.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Our next target was Jasper National Park. Situated northwest from Banff, the park has an amazing amount of scenery and wildlife. We traveled on route 93 up to Jasper town, visiting sites along the way. The elevation in this area is in the range of 1500 meters to 3000 meters (1 to 2 miles), depending on which mountain or pass you travel through and all around us we could see tree-covered peaks and streams.<br /><br />Our first stop was Johnson Canyon, an easy walk up to see the lower Johnson Falls, an nice but non-impressive waterfall. The nice thing was that you could go into a small cavern and come out nearer the water that was falling down.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtei3yoR4JI/AAAAAAAABQM/wkXe2Po1UBM/DSC_0517.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtei3yoR4JI/AAAAAAAABQM/wkXe2Po1UBM/DSC_0517.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Our next stop was Lake Louise, definitely a gem. The lake is at the base of a glacier that's slowly melting and filling it in. During the winter the lake freezes off completely and the glacier is replenished (though ever since global warming it's not being replenished as much). During summer the glacier melts and fills in the lake.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtei4yoR4KI/AAAAAAAABQU/7WmHHmpQ0fM/DSC_0526.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtei4yoR4KI/AAAAAAAABQU/7WmHHmpQ0fM/DSC_0526.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a>We kept on driving and saw one more glacier-melt lake, Lake Peyto. The amazing turqoise color is due to the melting water carrying with them pieces of the rock. As they reach the lake, the small components mix in the water and light coming in breaks in a way that green and blue light is reflected back.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfrSoR49I/AAAAAAAABXg/TxcdHjrXxzU/DSC_0059.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfrSoR49I/AAAAAAAABXg/TxcdHjrXxzU/DSC_0059.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Tragedy at Sunwapta Falls<br /></span><br />Then we reached Sunwapta falls. At Sunwapta falls, water falling down some 20 meters down from a higher valley and onto a the Athabasca valley. The river has been cutting through the rocks for the past 10000 years, since the last ice age. As the river cuts more and more, it slowly moves back, leaving high canyon walls behind it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfyyoR5FI/AAAAAAAABYg/G1UF707SEf0/DSC_0091.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfyyoR5FI/AAAAAAAABYg/G1UF707SEf0/DSC_0091.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a>As we stood there taking pictures of the falls, Pepper was modeling near the long fall down.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfuyoR5BI/AAAAAAAABYA/vcvrhtJVwUc/DSC_0077.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfuyoR5BI/AAAAAAAABYA/vcvrhtJVwUc/DSC_0077.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />As I turned around there came a gust of wind.<br />And then Pepper was on his side.<br />And then he was bouncing off towards the precipice.<br />And then he went head first into the Sunwapta crevice.<br />This is his last known picture.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/Rt92syoR5LI/AAAAAAAABa8/aAdtyXod2ZA/DSC_0081.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/Rt92syoR5LI/AAAAAAAABa8/aAdtyXod2ZA/DSC_0081.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Was it an accident and the wind swept him off the ledge? Was it murder? A suicide? Was he just tired of modeling, the long hours, hard work and needing to throw up after every meal? We'll never know... All we know is that the river's flow is very strong and we're not hopeful.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfyCoR5EI/AAAAAAAABYY/C32q9ySuiHE/DSC_0090.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfyCoR5EI/AAAAAAAABYY/C32q9ySuiHE/DSC_0090.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />A Starbucks Wasteland<br /></span><br />As Pepper took a course down to the Athabasca valley and onto the Saskatchewan river, we continued our trip to the last stop before Jasper town - the Athabasca falls. The Athabasca falls are a massive flow of water that's been cutting into the rock for the past few thousands of years. Every once in a while, the river finds a new channel a few meters to one side or the other and leaves a dry canyon behind it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfkioR40I/AAAAAAAABaU/24oXn1X86TI/DSC_0010.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfkioR40I/AAAAAAAABaU/24oXn1X86TI/DSC_0010.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a>You can cross the river and see the falls from various angles. It's amazing to see how deep the falls are and how strong the current is.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfmyoR44I/AAAAAAAABW0/q-GA0dapvD0/DSC_0042.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfmyoR44I/AAAAAAAABW0/q-GA0dapvD0/DSC_0042.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwflSoR41I/AAAAAAAABaY/cLhkHpSv3Z8/DSC_0035.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwflSoR41I/AAAAAAAABaY/cLhkHpSv3Z8/DSC_0035.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a>Our then drove through Jasper town and onto Hinton where we were sleeping the night. The town of Hinton, while bigger than Jasper and outside of the park, serves mostly as a truck stop. There's not much to do here except go to Wal-mart of Safeway. In the morning, we started with our now-standard ritual. We bought some bagels and stuff at Safeway, then opened up Samantha (The GPS) and asked it for a listing of Starbucks shops in the area. So far, we've been able to find a Starbucks anywhere we went but imagine our surprise when the nearest Starbucks stores were over 100km away.<br /><br />We asked at Safeway and they said Starbucks hasn't made it there but if we want we can go to Tim Horton's. For the uninitiated, Tim Horton sells sandwiches and some coffee. The selection is limited to 5 types of coffee. Only 5. It's like being a kid again with only one TV channel and sometimes being able to pick up the South Lebanon television station as an added bonus. Tough.<br /><br />For the next two days, we toured Jasper, checking out the local sites. We trecked Maligne Canyon, formed by a stream coming from Medicine lake. The interesting thing is that the stream is not the main way for water to leave the lake. Water flows from the bottom of the lake through the mountains and joins the main stream as side channels coming out of the canyon walls. We also saw this very cool water flow coming down the layered rock face.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtwe9SoR4PI/AAAAAAAABRo/6taw7eK-NF4/DSC_0086.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtwe9SoR4PI/AAAAAAAABRo/6taw7eK-NF4/DSC_0086.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a>More impressive, however, was the local wildlife. While not tame, the animals are not so afraid of humans and so come down to the roads. Here's a male Canadian mountain goat (I think). It stopped in the middle of the road while tour busses and cars slowly drove around it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtwe-yoR4RI/AAAAAAAABR4/4yu_TMKTmMQ/DSC_0102.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtwe-yoR4RI/AAAAAAAABR4/4yu_TMKTmMQ/DSC_0102.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a>A couple of females were feeding nearby and omer managed to get close to one of them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfACoR4SI/AAAAAAAABSA/AR3Pxr1etrI/DSC_0111.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfACoR4SI/AAAAAAAABSA/AR3Pxr1etrI/DSC_0111.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a>But mostly we went looking for Moose and Elk. The guide book said that the best place to see them was outside of Jasper town. They seem to like the grass there.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfFSoR4XI/AAAAAAAABSo/0hBJp8MOuFY/DSC_0132.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfFSoR4XI/AAAAAAAABSo/0hBJp8MOuFY/DSC_0132.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a>A local also told us that this is mating season and a few tourists had to be saved from an Elk that was going through town rounding up the local females. We didn't see it but we saw a couple of younger males doing the discovery-channel-fighting-it-out-for-control-of-the-herd dance (I'm sure it's just one word in the local Inuit language).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfEioR4WI/AAAAAAAABa4/1pOEwi77-3k/DSC_0128.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RtwfEioR4WI/AAAAAAAABa4/1pOEwi77-3k/DSC_0128.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>When they were done, one slunk away while the other raised its head and pissed all over the hill. I'm sure there's an Inuit word for that too.<br /><br />This concludes part 2 of Canadventure.<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Canada" rel="tag">Canada</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Rockies" rel="tag">Rockies</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Canadian+Rockies" rel="tag">Canadian Rockies</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Sunwapta+Falls" rel="tag">Sunwapta Falls</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Athabasca+Falls" rel="tag">Athabasca Falls</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Jasper" rel="tag">Jasper</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Maligne+Canyon" rel="tag">Maligne Canyon</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Elk" rel="tag">Elk</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Starbucks" rel="tag">Starbucks</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Canada" rel="tag">Canada</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Rockies" rel="tag">Rockies</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Canadian+Rockies" rel="tag">Canadian Rockies</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Sunwapta+Falls" rel="tag">Sunwapta Falls</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Athabasca+Falls" rel="tag">Athabasca Falls</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Jasper" rel="tag">Jasper</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Maligne+Canyon" rel="tag">Maligne Canyon</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Elk" rel="tag">Elk</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Starbucks" rel="tag">Starbucks</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-45053153221474494282007-08-31T20:55:00.000-07:002007-09-01T08:13:40.916-07:00Canadventure in the Rockies Part 1 - Look at that Beautiful MountainI'm on a 2 week trip to the Canadian Rockies. I'll start by introducing the rest of the team:<br /><br />Omer (my brother), Mom, and Dad who researched the area, planned the trip, has the itinerary broken down by each hour of each day.<br /><br />Also featuring:<br /><ul><li>Samantha - the official name of the voice my GPS uses. Samantha 1.0.3 to be exact.</li><li>Pepper - the trip mascot. We "found" him (we're pretty sure he's a "he") in the store of a gas station chain called Husky. His name came from a misunderstanding about which spray we should use in case wild predators attacked us - paper spray or pepper spray. We finally settled on pepper.</li></ul><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiGSoR3tI/AAAAAAAABMo/GgdStSlnFn4/DSC_0158.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiGSoR3tI/AAAAAAAABMo/GgdStSlnFn4/DSC_0158.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The Mountains<br /><br /></span>This trip will take us around the Canadian Rockies, a region on the border between Alberta and British Columbia in western Canada. The area is littered with national parks and we will be visiting a large number of them. To start with, we landed in Calgary, took our rental (a Jeep Patriot since our reserved Jeep Grand Cherokee was already given to someone else) and drove in a roundabout way to our first stop, the city of Canmore.<br /><br />The road we took started out through the plains, with fields filled with hay packets and cow herds grazing nonchalantly. About 20km before Canmore, we took a 150km detour to go through a more scenic route through the mountains.<br /><br />The road is amazing. At this time of year the weather is fickle. For the first day we had mostly clouds and rain, though the rain did stop towards the second part of our trip and we drove through amazing valleys with mountains surrounding us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiAyoR3qI/AAAAAAAABMQ/-Cyi23_5TKA/DSC_0130.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiAyoR3qI/AAAAAAAABMQ/-Cyi23_5TKA/DSC_0130.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />As we drove through we also got to know the car better. A tight SUV, it certainly wasn't the one we wanted. As the road continued and we got off the asphalt road the sun came out, we saw a large river following our course and we even got a glimpse of the local wild life.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiFSoR3sI/AAAAAAAABMg/t1Yj0wRiXTk/DSC_0145.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiFSoR3sI/AAAAAAAABMg/t1Yj0wRiXTk/DSC_0145.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Doing It Right The Second Time<br /></span><br />We started our second day by driving back to Calgary to get a better car. Now that we had the Grand Cherokee, the trip could start in ernest.<br /><br />We started by driving through Yoho national park. Our first stop was the Spiral Tunnels, a set of train tunnels throught the mountains that solved the problem of how to get the train through the steep elevation. The tracks used to have a slope of over 4 degrees, which made it very difficult for trains to climb them and hazardous for them to drive down. The longer trains' locomotive used to be 5 meters below the last car, pushing on the train and making it almost impossible to stop.<br /><br />An engineer solved the problem by cutting two spiral tunnels through the mountains. The tunnels go into the mountain, make a whole circle then exit above the point where they started. This let the trains take the trip with a lower 2 degree elevation and much less risk.<br /><br />The mountains here are completely covered in pine trees (lodgepole pine to be exact). It looks like someone took lots of green matches and stuck them standing up on the mountain. While the view is beautiful, this setup has the unfortunate side effect of hiding any train tracks or special spiral tunnels. We could clearly see one point where a tunnel starts and could kind of make out a point where a tunnel might be exiting the mountain but no train ran through so we weren't really sure.<br /><br />Instead, here's Pepper modeling what the spiral tunnels look like on the mountain.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiMioR3wI/AAAAAAAABNA/yTrpyYc4His/DSC_0180.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiMioR3wI/AAAAAAAABNA/yTrpyYc4His/DSC_0180.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Our next stop was Takakaw Falls. Notice the Indian names that most of these creeks, valleys and falls have. A lot of them are in some local language or are the name of the trive. Takakaw means "beautiful fall" or something like it in the Cree language.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiNSoR3xI/AAAAAAAABNI/9HKvGFrBv3s/DSC_0187.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiNSoR3xI/AAAAAAAABNI/9HKvGFrBv3s/DSC_0187.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiRSoR3zI/AAAAAAAABNY/YTUQgmcJ8z0/DSC_0194.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiRSoR3zI/AAAAAAAABNY/YTUQgmcJ8z0/DSC_0194.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />We had a very late lunch in a town called Field. It's in the middle of Yoho park, has a few houses, one restaurant and one hotel. While I don't know the history for the name, I can easily imagine how originally this used to be an open field were some Canadian railway employees used to set up tents or cabins. And the town grew and grew (alright - grew very slowly) but the field stayed "the field" until someone finally officially registered it as such.<br /><br />We stopped at this wonderful natural stone bridge where the water cut a channel underneath.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiVSoR31I/AAAAAAAABNo/l9xNEdL5bO8/DSC_0235.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiVSoR31I/AAAAAAAABNo/l9xNEdL5bO8/DSC_0235.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />(that's me in the picture, for size reference; and yes - pepper is also in the picture if you look real hard)<br /><br />On the way to the hotel, we caught the sun as it was going down, angled over the valley and completely lighting up this mountain range.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiXSoR32I/AAAAAAAABNw/Iy_pDzztOew/DSC_0241.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiXSoR32I/AAAAAAAABNw/Iy_pDzztOew/DSC_0241.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />And here's one of the slow freight trains across the lake from us:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiYioR33I/AAAAAAAABN4/Qiq0SJ6e684/DSC_0249.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiYioR33I/AAAAAAAABN4/Qiq0SJ6e684/DSC_0249.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The Adventures of Heckleberry Rafi and Omer Sawyer<br /></span><br />On our third day we visited Kootenay national park. The park has everything from snow-capped peaks at the end of summer to (allegedly) cacti growing in it. We never saw the cacti but the mountain ranges we drove along were awe-inspiring. The border between parks Kootenay and Banff divides a few other things: it's the border between British Columbia and Alberta and also marks the continental divide between the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. Water falling on opposing sides of the marker will flow down to different oceans.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RteibCoR34I/AAAAAAAABOA/bigDiG7A4Z4/DSC_0256.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RteibCoR34I/AAAAAAAABOA/bigDiG7A4Z4/DSC_0256.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />There are some more interesting waterfalls, including this one that cut quite a channel into the ground.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteifSoR36I/AAAAAAAABOQ/zZ7gnyAlHY0/DSC_0298.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RteifSoR36I/AAAAAAAABOQ/zZ7gnyAlHY0/DSC_0298.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />And some very nice viewpoints where you can see a huge part of the valley spread out before you.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiiioR38I/AAAAAAAABOg/cJI1pu1mOgA/DSC_0328.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteiiioR38I/AAAAAAAABOg/cJI1pu1mOgA/DSC_0328.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />We also tried out our new wildlife-telescope. We mostly managed to see trees really up close.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteikioR39I/AAAAAAAABOo/oNC8UAUytIE/DSC_0335.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteikioR39I/AAAAAAAABOo/oNC8UAUytIE/DSC_0335.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />At the end of the park is the township of Radium Hot Springs named after the, you guessed it, hot springs in the park. From there, instead of retracing our steps, we took a detour around the park. The tourist information center at Radium gave us only a fishing map of the area. The map focused on two main features:<br /><br /><ul><li>Rough sketches of the roads we can take. The word "roads" in this context means anything from a highway to an unpaved path cows walk on.</li><li>Lakes. Hopefully with fish in them.</li></ul><br />We decided to try finding one of these lakes and so took ourselves off the beaten path and onto the, well, literally beaten pathway along the trees and wild vegetation of British Columbia. After half an hour of traversing dirt roads, past all farms and human habitation, we found Lake Cleland. The water looked blue and beautiful through the trees but there was one problem: there was already one car there. Way too crowded. We decided to go on to lake Jade, a few minutes down that same path.<br /><br />To explain to you how secluded the lake is, when we stopped the car some 100 meters from the lake a squirrel on a nearby tree chirped menacingly at us for a few minutes. The lake was indeed Jade in color...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RteioyoR4AI/AAAAAAAABPE/Lxh6v2Sp4e8/DSC_0361.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RteioyoR4AI/AAAAAAAABPE/Lxh6v2Sp4e8/DSC_0361.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />... and true to its fishing-lake nature had a small jetty leading out a few meters onto the water and lo-and-behold, a small hand-made raft someone left from a previous trip. Dad immediately jumped on it to test its strength, then Omer joined him and each with a stick started pushing into the lake.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteisioR4CI/AAAAAAAABPU/uEZQqCHy4Iw/DSC_0368.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RteisioR4CI/AAAAAAAABPU/uEZQqCHy4Iw/DSC_0368.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Once the confusion about not pushing in different directions was cleared up, they managed to free the raft from the mud and float it into the middle of the lake. Mom looked at them shocked, while I did the oh-so-Israeli thing of yelling suggestions and instructions while being completely uncommitted - I wasn't going to get wet if they capsized. I finally managed to get them to where the bigger lake was visible behind them...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RteizCoR4GI/AAAAAAAABP0/wC19V1RvtRM/DSC_0439.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RteizCoR4GI/AAAAAAAABP0/wC19V1RvtRM/DSC_0439.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />...and also managed to use some trick photography to show how they reached relativistic speeds. No photoshop used, I swear.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtei0ioR4HI/AAAAAAAABP8/ztzmzkAEbaA/DSC_0443.jpg?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/Rtei0ioR4HI/AAAAAAAABP8/ztzmzkAEbaA/DSC_0443.jpg?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This concludes part 1 of Canadventure.<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Canada" rel="tag">Canada</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Rockies" rel="tag">Rockies</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Canadian+Rockies" rel="tag">Canadian Rockies</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Jeep" rel="tag">Jeep</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Banff" rel="tag">Banff</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Kootenay" rel="tag">Kootenay</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Canada" rel="tag">Canada</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Rockies" rel="tag">Rockies</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Canadian+Rockies" rel="tag">Canadian Rockies</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Jeep" rel="tag">Jeep</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Banff" rel="tag">Banff</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Kootenay" rel="tag">Kootenay</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-30772725607591613662007-06-22T00:30:00.000-07:002007-06-22T02:54:33.904-07:00Careful What You Ask For...I'm in France for a conference. This time in Provence, in a town called Bandol. The hotel is not near the airport and requires a drive through the picturesque French country side. Before leaving for France, I had a discussion with one of my colleagues about getting to Bandol. He's been here before and said that it's a nice area but if I'm getting there after a 20 hour trip, landing at night and then driving an hour or two to get to the hotel, I might want to get a hotel in Marseilles and drive the following day or at least get a GPS. I said the GPS option sound good - I've never tried that. (Thanks Ravi!)<br /><br />The shuttle driver taking me to San Francisco aiport was using a GPS. I looked at how it did the cool "3D" driving instructions and liked it. Fast-forward 20 something hours later to Marseilles, France. I get to the Avis office to pick up my car. It's getting dark outside, raining a little bit and I'm pretty tired from the trip. I decide to ask if they have a GPS system. Remembering <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0401445/">"A Good Year"</a> I also ask if it speaks English. For the next 30 minutes, the two Avis reps try to set up the GPS to point to the hotel I'm going to. Eventually we find out that the name is not quite as in the reservation. It's "La Fregate" and not "Dolce Fregate". But the directions seem to match the ones the hotel provided and so I'm all set.<br /><br />TURN AROUND, THEN BEAR RIGHT, says the GPS in a feminine, British voice. I like it. It's a cool accent and they chose a sexy voice.<br /><br />I take a few minutes to adjust to the stick shift. It's been a few years since I've driven one and I need to wake up my Clutch leg and remind it that it has a job to do during the drive. I then navigate the French signs for how to leave the parking lot and BEAR RIGHT on the road.<br /><br />AFTER (slight pause) 400 YARDS (slight pause) TURN RIGHT<br /><br />Yards, huh? If I remember correctly, a yard is close to a meter. I keep track of the map on the GPS screen and take the right turn.<br /><br />AFTER (slight pause) 300 YARDS (slight pause) BEAR LEFT<br /><br />I drive some 290 yards and the GPS again goes BEAR LEFT.<br /><br />There are lots of bears in France. I bear left and merge onto the highway going to Marseilles. The roads are great, the Sun has already set and the sky is mostly dark. It's a good thing I took the GPS. I don't know if I'd have found all the right turns without it.<br /><br />Getting into Marseilles, I hit the first snag. There are a number of long tunnels going underground that I have to pass. I enter the first one and watch the GPS screen. For the first 30 meters or so it's fine, then suddenly the route colors go out and we have a B&W picture. GPS devices can't receive the satellites while underground. My GPS still shows progress though and I wonder whether it has some kind of dead reckoning mechanism like submarines use to figure out where they are. Dead reckoning is a fancy technical term for "we're guessing where we are".<br /><br />AFTER 300 YARDS BEAR LEFT<br /><br />The GPS is still in dead reckoning mode but it's assuming I've moved. The only problem is I'm already at the end of the tunnel on the right-hand side and bearing-left would require cutting across three lines of traffic and solid divider lines in less than 10 meters before the lanes split irretrievably. I miss it.<br /><br />TURN AROUND THEN BEAR RIGHT.<br /><br />The GPS is very resilient. It readjusts the route based on my current location. Of course I hear the silent "STUPID DRIVER" at the end of the sentence. I get back on track and enter a longer tunnel. This time I'm smarter. I slow down towards the end of the tunnel until the instructions are ready again. The GPS doesn't say it but I'm supposed to PAY THE TOLL.<br /><br />I'm now on the longer stretch of the route. For the next 15-20km I can drive without any instructions. I'm not sure why the GPS gives me instructions in yards when the overall trip is measured in kilometers. Weird.<br /><br />20km later it starts up again. TAKE NEXT EXIT. BEAR RIGHT. LEFT TURN ACROSS THE ROUNDABOUT. GO STRAIGHT. The bossy little %@#$. It doesn't matter where I want to go. Only it counts. It's the one calling the shots. I'm so pissed off. oooooooooooooof.<br /><br />It does, however, get me through the village of Saint Cyr Sur Mer which I'd never have been able to do myself. Too many small turns and residential roads without any signs. We finally get to Route Bandol, almost to the final destination. We start making turns into roads that have no names, or at least I can't find them. I'm sure I'm driving through gorgeous French countryside but it's too dark. It's a very picturesque dark though. We're very close. I make a turn onto what feels like a lower quality road. I can't see it that well but it has the texture of concrete that has been patched one too many times. There's nothing around me and it feels a bit deserted.<br /><br />AFTER 400 YARDS YOU HAVE REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.<br /><br />It's not grammatically correct English but it certainly makes me happy. I start looking for signs of the hotel. There's no light around, only the broken down road and the trees. I drive slowly through these 400 yards. I think I passed a car that was "parking" back there. I keep going. The GPS finally chimes:<br /><br />YOU HAVE ARRIVED<br /><br />And I look around. There's nothing but trees. I'm on a dirt road with a shut manual gate ahead of me. Only night owls are awake in the forest. It's certainly not the Dolce Fregate. But I've ARRIVED AT MY DESTINATION. That's so great. Just great.<br /><br />I turn around and start climbing back out, hoping I'd be able to reverse engineer the path I've traveled. Since I was following the GPS I wasn't paying too much attention. The GPS keeps saying "TURN AROUND AND BEAR LEFT" in its feminine British accent. I keep replying "SHUT UP" in American.<br /><br />Turns out I was pretty close. I was on the correct road before I started all these twists and turns. The GPS took me, as instructed, to the La Fregate camping ground.<br /><br />Careful what you ask for...<br /><br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/GPS" rel="tag">GPS</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/France" rel="tag">France</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Provence" rel="tag">Provence</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Bandol" rel="tag">Bandol</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/GPS" rel="tag">GPS</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/France" rel="tag">France</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Provence" rel="tag">Provence</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Bandol" rel="tag">Bandol</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-13809826326938627712007-04-28T18:13:00.000-07:002007-04-28T18:33:11.985-07:00Brazil 101<span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Almost Like Spanish?</span><br /><br />I know a little bit of Spanish, mostly from previous South American visits. I can't have any meaningful conversation but I can definitely order "cafe" con my "pan y mantequia" (bread and butter) in the morning. Actually maybe that IS meaningful conversation. And so going to Brazil I figured that Portuguese is very similar and I won't have much trouble picking it up.<br /><br />Reviewing the language section of my trusty Lonely Planet guide to Brazil I noticed that its "so-you've-got-the-shits" section lists five commonly used phrases for the sick traveler:<br /><ul><li>I'm Ill</li><li>I need a doctor (who speaks English)</li><li>It hurts here</li><li>I've been vomiting</li></ul><br />And the always useful:<br /><br /><ul><li>(I think) I'm pregnant</li></ul><br />Now I've had the top 4 before. I guess if you consider the whole phrase, I can probably have the last one as well though it would be a very different kind of sickness in my case. I just didn't realize that Brazil was so notorious for people getting knocked up. I definitely only drank bottled water on this trip - who knows how things work here.<br /><br />My next long trip will be to Brazil. But since that's not planned yet, I've jumped at the opportunity to go there on business for a few days.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >The City</span><br /><br />My first and only planned stop was Sao Paulo, 3rd largest city in the world from a population perspective. It's a strange mix of rich and poor living very close together. The city itself has very few sights, it's not a tourist attraction. Certain neighborhoods, called favelas, are collections of shacks covering local hills. The residents are extremely poor. If you go in, you're not likely to come out. Even walking around them is not recommended.<br /><br />Crime is a major issue in Sao Paulo. There are weird and fantastic things that could happen to you. For example, my taxi driver explained how he had an old Volkswagen beetle that was hijacked from him when he stopped at red light one day. In fact there's a law that says that at night you don't have to stop at a red light. Just slow down to check for traffic. You could also be mugged or pick-pocketed or the ever-inventive being kidnapped for an hour or so while you use your credit cards to take out as much money as you can, at which time you're released. Business models are improving the world round!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >The Beach</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsY8UezoI/AAAAAAAAAug/F5zJPE3y9hE/DSC_0085-1.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsY8UezoI/AAAAAAAAAug/F5zJPE3y9hE/DSC_0085-1.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>In order to see some of Brazil's fabled beaches, we took a taxi to a nearby coastal town called Guaruja. A beautiful ride down the mountains over bridges and through tunnels brought us to a small town on an island near the coast. It was the middle of the week and off season (as much as you can get off season when it's 22c degrees (72F) and sunny.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsd8UezqI/AAAAAAAAAuw/gCGJAHVagKA/DSC_0092-1.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsd8UezqI/AAAAAAAAAuw/gCGJAHVagKA/DSC_0092-1.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>We had lunch at a beach-side restaurant where I found "Cervesa Rosa" or red beer. The waiter tried to dissuade me from getting it but I persevered. Afterwards we asked how it's made and found out they take good beer and mix it with some concentrated juice. Maybe it's a kids beverage.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsfcUezrI/AAAAAAAAAu4/onNnP4SH2CA/DSC_0101-1.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsfcUezrI/AAAAAAAAAu4/onNnP4SH2CA/DSC_0101-1.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Creosote"><span style="font-size:130%;">"F#@ off, I'm full!"</span></a><br />(Vegeterians might want to skip ahead to the next section)<br /><br />Sao Paulo has great areas where you can shop to your heart's content, drink coffee while looking at the passers-by or have great meals. My colleagues and I checked out the various food options. You can find anything from Sushi to pasta, but the most famous restaurant style in Brazil is the churrascaria, the Brazilian grill.<br /><br />The churrascaria is a magical place. As you come in and sit down, the waiter brings a plate with bread and some fried things. This is distraction #1 - avoid it. Next, there's a huge salad bar with very little salady things about it. I went looking for vegetables and came back with some sliced tomatoes. The salad bar is where you get fish, some rice and cheese. This is distraction #2 - avoid it.<br /><br />Behind the scenes is a kitchen with a large grill. Huge skewers hang on the grill, slowly cooking chunks of cows, pigs and lambs larger than your hand. Every once in a while, a waiter comes by, picks up one of the skewers and walks around the restaurant with it, stopping by your table and offering you pieces that he cuts off right into your plate.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPr38UezbI/AAAAAAAAAs4/SNl5LBWNO_8/DSCN0171.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPr38UezbI/AAAAAAAAAs4/SNl5LBWNO_8/DSCN0171.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>We even got a little map of the cow so that we'd know what we were eating.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPr5cUezcI/AAAAAAAAAtA/0eD7RiNe9q0/DSCN0175.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPr5cUezcI/AAAAAAAAAtA/0eD7RiNe9q0/DSCN0175.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Strangely enough, tongue (thanks Roger!) is not on the menu.<br /><br />Your only defense against the waiters is a small cardboard token with a red side and a green side. While green is up, any waiter coming by will offer you a something and instead of being able to eat in peace you'll be fending them off. Turn the token upside down and voila! they magically still keep stopping by your table and offering you portions.<br /><br />They only really stop when you're lying back in your chair barely able to breath with your belt undone to let some blood circulate.<br /><br />Then, they try to re-enact Monty Python's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Creosote">"And finally, monsieur, a wafer-thin mint"</a> by bringing over the desert truck for you to choose from.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Multi-threading</span><br /><br />Having been through a number of passover dinners where similar tactics are used, I paced myself and was able to survive dinner. As punishment I was banished the next day to a small town (only 2 mil. people) on the north shore of Brazil. I was a guest speaker at a Java User's Group (<a href="http://www.cejug.org/display/cejug/Home">ceJUG</a>), a very active group of Java aficionados. Since my Portuguese is only good enough to order food in Spanish, there was a simultaneous translator there to help me communicate with the crowd.<br /><br />The day before, I had a chance to listen to a simultaneous translator work. While a presenter spoke in Portuguese, us foreigners had earphones on to hear the English version. The scene had something of the Japanese movies where their lips move for a long time and then someone in badly accented English says "OK". Here, as the presenter grew more and more passionate, waxing lyrical about Java in sing-song Portuguese, the translator would say "you are right" in a very even, dry tone.<br /><br />And so there I was with my own personal translator and 250 people wearing headphones so that they could understand me and I just had to test the new system. So i lifted my hand up and said "anyone who can understand me lift your hands up". And some did while others quickly fumbled with their headphones. Then it dawned on me that raising my hand up gave everyone a hint of what I was saying. My next test was much better devised - I lowered my hand down explicitly while telling everyone who heard to raise their hand. They passed :)<br /><br />And so I spoke for a couple of hours while the translator, Salmito, talked much more passionately than I did about the subject. He was at the back of the room in a glass box and I was the only one who was really looking at him. It was interesting to see him standing up and gesturing with his hands as he translated my words.<br /><br />I find it amazing that someone can listen to what I'm saying in English, translate to Portuguese and do this at my rate of speech. There had to have been multiple threads running in his head.<br /><br />In the evening, my host (Tales) took me and Fernando, the guest speaker from Rio, to have dinner. A section of the shoreline promenade was dedicated to fish sellers. A number of them were still open despite the late hour with trays of shrimp stacked on their counters. We bought half a kilo then went to a small "restaurant" right next to it where we gave our raw shrimp and got french fries, beer and garlic shrimp back. A very nice setup. We sat outside looking at the people and enjoying the meal.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Touring Fortaleza</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsh8UezsI/AAAAAAAAAvA/aU8yv3ru-js/DSC_0108.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsh8UezsI/AAAAAAAAAvA/aU8yv3ru-js/DSC_0108.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>Fortaleza has many beaches, stretching out a number kilometers. My hotel was on the promenade roughly in the middle of town. I woke up the next morning noon and decided to go tour the beaches. Wearing my tourist clothes with my tourist backpack and my very tourist camera hanging from my neck I got out and started walking along the sand line. Within 5 minutes I came upon a couple of cops walking the beach. They called me over and explained in sigh language that someone will come by and snatch my camera if I walk around like that. Once I put it in the bag, they requested in broken English some money for coffee. I thought about saying no but decided only bad things will follow. If they were nice enough to ask, I might as well comply.<br /><br /><br />Instead of walking that stretch, I found a taxi and asked the driver to take me to the better beach in the area - Foturo beach. He made the shape of a gun with his fingers and said something about someone taking my "bolsa". Not knowing the word, I tried to find a similar one in languages I understood. Bolsa is close to bolsito in Spanish which means plastic bag. Did he mean they'll mug me and take my bag? I tried to find a close word to bolsa in English and found that option even scarier.<br /><br />I decided instead to go see the local market:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsn8UezuI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/KFXf07hU_s8/DSC_0136.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPsn8UezuI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/KFXf07hU_s8/DSC_0136.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Album with more pics at:<br /><br /><table style="width: 194px;"><tbody><tr><td style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="center"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/BrazilApril07"><img src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RjPr2MUezaE/AAAAAAAAAvg/AM1LVJOJprI/s160-c/BrazilApril07.jpg" style="margin: 1px 0pt 0pt 4px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/BrazilApril07" style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Brazil April 07</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Brazil" rel="tag">Brazil</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Sao+Paulo" rel="tag">Sao Paulo</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Fortaleza" rel="tag">Fortaleza</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Guaruja" rel="tag">Guaruja</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/JUG" rel="tag">JUG</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Beaches" rel="tag">Beaches</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Beer" rel="tag">Beer</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Churrascaria" rel="tag">Churrascaria</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Simultaneous+Translation" rel="tag">Simultaneous Translation</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Brazil" rel="tag">Brazil</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Sao+Paulo" rel="tag">Sao Paulo</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Fortaleza" rel="tag">Fortaleza</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Guaruja" rel="tag">Guaruja</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/JUG" rel="tag">JUG</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Beaches" rel="tag">Beaches</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Beer" rel="tag">Beer</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Churrascaria" rel="tag">Churrascaria</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Simultaneous+Translation" rel="tag">Simultaneous Translation</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-39024555058809173102006-12-17T10:14:00.000-08:002006-12-17T21:11:54.648-08:00The Motorcycle CompendiumSumming up 2006<br /><br />It's been an interesting year (and I'm not using the ancient Chinese meaning of "May you live in interesting times"). I've traveled quite a lot and posted a lot. I found this cool site that lets you enter the places you've been to and generates a map for you:<br /><br /><div style="position: relative; width: 400px"><br /><embed src="http://www.travbuddy.com/flash/countries_map.swf?id=3107" quality="high" bgcolor="#3d2765" width="400" height="213" name="countries_map" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br /><div style="background-color: #3D2765; text-align: center; width: 399px; border-left: 1px solid #3d2765;"><br /><a href="http://www.travbuddy.com/widget_map.php"><img src="http://www.travbuddy.com/images/widget_map_promote.gif" border="0"></a><br /></div><br /></div><br /><br /><br />Of course if I just visited one city in that country, it counts it as having visited the whole country. Russia added quite a bit to my world coverage in terms of area, though it only contributed as much percentage as Macau did.<br /><br />So - only 15% - there's much of the world still left to see!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And now, back to Vietnam</span><br />November 8-9<br /><br />I've come to the end of the stories from Vietnam. On the last few days in Saigon, I did some shopping, read some books and thought about what else I'd love to show you all when I get back.<br /><br />Since motorcycles are the main form of transportation here, the act of carrying stuff around has evolved into an art form almost. It's amazing what you can see while traveling around the country. I therefore set out to find some pictures of overloaded motorcycles.<br /><br />I did not see any of the banana-laden motorcycles where from behind it looks like the person is riding a banana cluster, nor was anyone moving big cabinets that day by having the person behind them on the motorcycle clutch the cabinet with outstretched hands. But I did go by the market and found the following heavy loads on tiny scooters.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWOVtUYodI/AAAAAAAAASQ/6su0BE4qGXg/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0041.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWOVtUYodI/AAAAAAAAASQ/6su0BE4qGXg/s400/Img2006-11-09_0041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009566664113037778" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWNkNUYoaI/AAAAAAAAAR4/HEdvqhYvApk/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWNkNUYoaI/AAAAAAAAAR4/HEdvqhYvApk/s400/Img2006-11-09_0038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009565813709513122" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWNUdUYoZI/AAAAAAAAARw/mxVk9GOc7Yo/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0032.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWNUdUYoZI/AAAAAAAAARw/mxVk9GOc7Yo/s400/Img2006-11-09_0032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009565543126573458" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWMw9UYoXI/AAAAAAAAARg/NSX8KbL8eJM/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWMw9UYoXI/AAAAAAAAARg/NSX8KbL8eJM/s400/Img2006-11-09_0027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009564933241217394" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWOBtUYocI/AAAAAAAAASI/PXcVLwY_Bng/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0040.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWOBtUYocI/AAAAAAAAASI/PXcVLwY_Bng/s400/Img2006-11-09_0040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009566320515654082" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWN1NUYobI/AAAAAAAAASA/ZUQfVsivwGU/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0039.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWN1NUYobI/AAAAAAAAASA/ZUQfVsivwGU/s400/Img2006-11-09_0039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009566105767289266" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWND9UYoYI/AAAAAAAAARo/hiOtcO8Kz9U/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0030.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWND9UYoYI/AAAAAAAAARo/hiOtcO8Kz9U/s400/Img2006-11-09_0030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009565259658731906" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWMhdUYoWI/AAAAAAAAARY/uxl-KU8VnQ8/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWMhdUYoWI/AAAAAAAAARY/uxl-KU8VnQ8/s400/Img2006-11-09_0023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009564666953245026" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWMSdUYoVI/AAAAAAAAARQ/DRwZh2-lSWI/s1600-h/Img2006-11-09_0021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RYWMSdUYoVI/AAAAAAAAARQ/DRwZh2-lSWI/s400/Img2006-11-09_0021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009564409255207250" border="0" /></a>That's it for Vietnam.<br /><br />All my published pictures can be seen at <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov">http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov</a><br /><br />Happy Hanukka, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year (or pick you favorite seasonal holiday) to you all!<br /><br />Eran<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"><b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Saigon" rel="tag">Saigon</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Motorcycle" rel="tag">Motorcycle</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Saigon" rel="tag">Saigon</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Motorcycle" rel="tag">Motorcycle</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-14113345276200454252006-12-09T16:04:00.000-08:002006-12-10T10:42:34.074-08:00The Nine DragonsAlbum for this entry:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MekongDelta"><img src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtODHQrT2E/AAAAAAAAAGM/RRwSoE8vUuc/s160-c/MekongDelta.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/MekongDelta"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Mekong Delta</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"></div></div><br />This here, this is the way to start the day.<br /><br />The time is 6:20a, the boat rocks from side to side, sailing up the river, the coffee is piping hot and the kettle next to it is Vietnamese tea that's typically drunk along with the coffee.<br /><br />After returning from Cambodia to Saigon, back in southern Vietnam, I had one more major attraction to visit - the Mekong delta. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mekong">Mekong river</a> is the 13th longest in the world. It starts from Tibet, flows through China, Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and eventually Vietnam. The river's delta has nine major flows into the sea and is called by the locals in Cambodia and Vietnam the river of nine dragons.<br /><br />The part of the delta that's controlled by Vietnam was originally part of Cambodia, but the Cambodians ceded it Vietnam for political and military help a few hundred years ago. The area still has a large population of Khmers (the major ethnic group in Cambodia) though many Vietnamese have settled here over the years.<br /><br />Tuoi and I set out on a two day trip to the delta. We did this the local way, by buses and minivans from town to town. Our first stop was about 3 hours away from Saigon. We left early in the morning to beat the tourist crowd. We rented a boat and did a 3-4 hour trip around a few islands in the area.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOGXQrT4I/AAAAAAAAAAw/2NanzhGFb7s/Img2006-11-06_0005.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOGXQrT4I/AAAAAAAAAAw/2NanzhGFb7s/Img2006-11-06_0005.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>The tourist industry has evolved greatly and at every stop there was something for us to see and, more importantly, to buy. This beehive, for example, was part of a demonstration before we were offered some honey and pollen to purchase.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOKnQrT5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/A-g98qq_vEw/Img2006-11-06_0016.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOKnQrT5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/A-g98qq_vEw/Img2006-11-06_0016.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>We also saw how coconut candy (highly distilled coconut extract with coloring added from plants) was made.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOSHQrT8I/AAAAAAAAABQ/y51ihzdIKd0/Img2006-11-06_0049.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOSHQrT8I/AAAAAAAAABQ/y51ihzdIKd0/Img2006-11-06_0049.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>I had a chance to photograph another pool of Koi fish waiting for tourists to feed them. While Tuoi threw fish food pellets into the water, I snapped shots of them swimming in frenzy trying to find all the food.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOQ3QrT7I/AAAAAAAAABI/QPWRzK3sgUc/Img2006-11-06_0043.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOQ3QrT7I/AAAAAAAAABI/QPWRzK3sgUc/Img2006-11-06_0043.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>You can also check out the video version of <a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-460148938575195315&hl=en">Koi feeding frenzy</a>.<br /><br />We spent the night in Can Tho, a small town near the border with Cambodia. When we arrived, the streets were easily navigable and we had no problem reaching the hotel. When we stepped out an hour or so later, the streets surrounding the hotel were flodded with water at least 4 inches (10 cm) deep. I didn't understand what this was since it did not rain, until Tuoi explained that when the moon is full, the river overflows the streets when high tide comes.<br /><br />This is a clip shot in Saigon where the same thing happens:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-8227697954622550342&hl=en" flashvars=""></embed></div><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Floating Markets of Vietnam</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOrnQrUMI/AAAAAAAAADQ/f65cNYOZ4ew/Img2006-11-07_0048.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOrnQrUMI/AAAAAAAAADQ/f65cNYOZ4ew/Img2006-11-07_0048.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And so we woke up early the next day and went on a 7 hour tour of the river. The boat that picked us up was relatively small - space for 4-6 people but it was only the two of us and our driver (sailor?). On the way to the boat, we passed a coffee shop and asked for some coffee. A minute after we climbed onto the boat the coffee arrived along with some tea and we set sail, coffee and all, to see the sights.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOWXQrT-I/AAAAAAAAABg/2TXvZRXSOh0/Img2006-11-07_0003.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOWXQrT-I/AAAAAAAAABg/2TXvZRXSOh0/Img2006-11-07_0003.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>We sailed up the river, dodging river traffic, floating plants and the occasional debris, passing around fishermen sitting in their boats picking fish out of their nets and generally enjoying ourselves.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtObXQrUAI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ct9CtudkDZA/Img2006-11-07_0008.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtObXQrUAI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ct9CtudkDZA/Img2006-11-07_0008.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>We passed these signs along the way. I've never learned boating and while these signs were posted on the side of the river, I assumed they were targeted at the river traffic. If anyone reading this understands what these say, please add the explanation as a comment at the bottom. I thought about making up my own signs and adding them to the list. Like a diagonal line across an empty sign. Or maybe a dot in the middle of an empty round sign. Or that oh-so-artistic-every-museum-has-to-have-one completely black sign.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXxKc3QrUdI/AAAAAAAAAFk/MBQwiAM3_us/Img2006-11-07_0146.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXxKc3QrUdI/AAAAAAAAAFk/MBQwiAM3_us/Img2006-11-07_0146.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>There are two main markets to see in this area. The bigger one is a set of warehouses set along the river bank. Many boats congregate along it, most of them big motorizes boats with large loads.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtgEnQrUcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/glvuA80MRZ0/Img2006-11-07_0038.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtgEnQrUcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/glvuA80MRZ0/Img2006-11-07_0038.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>Breakfast can be had on the river. You simply flag down one of the boats that sell snacks / drinks / sandwiches and order what you want. Notice how this woman uses her foot to steer the boat's motor. Yes - sailing with your feet is big in Vietnam.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOfHQrUDI/AAAAAAAAAGU/eV3STsq2EvY/Img2006-11-07_0029.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOfHQrUDI/AAAAAAAAAGU/eV3STsq2EvY/Img2006-11-07_0029.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>So how do you find what you want to buy? Easy - boats advertise their wares in the simplest way possible.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOknQrUHI/AAAAAAAAACo/Q6d2-x13gjE/Img2006-11-07_0044.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOknQrUHI/AAAAAAAAACo/Q6d2-x13gjE/Img2006-11-07_0044.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>What's tied to the pole above the boats tells you everything you want to know.<br /><br />The market has all the roles you'd typically expect from a merchant society. Here's the distribution channel for a pineapple. This is a farmer bringing wares to the market:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOmnQrUII/AAAAAAAAACw/HK7byqObrgo/Img2006-11-07_0046.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOmnQrUII/AAAAAAAAACw/HK7byqObrgo/Img2006-11-07_0046.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>While this is a wholesaler of pineapple, aggregating the produce from many such farmers:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOoHQrUJI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Hd1_2aqxmgw/Img2006-11-07_0119.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOoHQrUJI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Hd1_2aqxmgw/Img2006-11-07_0119.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RXxU13QrUgI/AAAAAAAAAGk/mjaQLLYqAcw/s1600-h/Img2006-11-07_0105.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RXxU13QrUgI/AAAAAAAAAGk/mjaQLLYqAcw/s400/Img2006-11-07_0105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006970170072846850" border="0" /></a>And you can all guess what this retailer sells:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOpnQrUKI/AAAAAAAAADA/Q_IhLB3yOuI/Img2006-11-07_0115.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtOpnQrUKI/AAAAAAAAADA/Q_IhLB3yOuI/Img2006-11-07_0115.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We then made a turn into a small channel that led off between houses and trees to get to the second market. This one was smaller with less large boats around. It seemed more like a local exchange of produce. Most boats were maned by one person and filled with one vegetable or another.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtO4HQrURI/AAAAAAAAAD4/TZMxgwoBuks/Img2006-11-07_0074.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtO4HQrURI/AAAAAAAAAD4/TZMxgwoBuks/Img2006-11-07_0074.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unlike a regular market where fixed stalls serve as the bargaining place, this market operated using Chaos theory. To enter the market, aim your boat at the center of the throng of boats and turn your motor off. From here on, you'll be pushing into the market using your oars or by manually pulling on other boats. Everyone keeps moving even if they do nothing, on account of everyone else passing by. You're guaranteed to find a way through the market to the other side, it just might take a while.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtO6XQrUSI/AAAAAAAAAEA/2vhD74LiIag/Img2006-11-07_0075.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXtO6XQrUSI/AAAAAAAAAEA/2vhD74LiIag/Img2006-11-07_0075.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>Found a boat you want to stay near for a while? no problem. Tie yourself to the boat and you'll drift off together. We had some pineapple here, then some lunch. We found the noodle-soup selling boat and anchored ourselves next to it. And then we were off back to Saigon.<br /><br />For more scenes from the river, take a look at the album linked at the top of this entry.<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Mekong" rel="tag">Mekong</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Mekong+Delta" rel="tag">Mekong Delta</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Floating+Markets" rel="tag">Floating Markets</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Mekong" rel="tag">Mekong</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Mekong+Delta" rel="tag">Mekong Delta</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Floating+Markets" rel="tag">Floating Markets</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-1073872043713754752006-12-02T17:29:00.000-08:002006-12-04T22:41:52.335-08:00Landscapes and WormsAlbums for this post:<br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/TomCac"><img src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMSjBSOCrE/AAAAAAAABRs/zvvnkRhzjss/s160-c/TomCac.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/TomCac"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Tom Cac</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/HalongBay"><img src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO2XRSOC_E/AAAAAAAAAAc/2JNVhArVaxM/s160-c/HalongBay.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/HalongBay"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Halong Bay</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"></div></div><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Worms_%28computer_game%29">Worms</a> are cute, funny, deadly vicious and good with a bazooka. No, I'm not smoking anything as I write this. Worms is a winning series of computer games created by <a href="http://www.team17.com/">Team 17</a>. The game is an evolution of the old computer game where two players face-off and try to each blow the other's cannon out of existence by, each in turn, entering an angle and velocity and hoping the bullet makes it against the changing wind.<br /><br />The creators of Worms took the game a step further. Teams of cute little worms face off and the math comes off. Instead, each player in turn chooses a weapon, anything from a bazooka, an uzi, a mine or even the occasional exploding sheep (really!) and aim and fire at the other team's worms.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/0/08/Worms_World_Party_screenshot.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/0/08/Worms_World_Party_screenshot.png" alt="" border="0" /></a>The setting is a computer generated landscape made up of water at the bottom (these worms can't swim - if you fall in, you die) and randomly created mountains and islands on which the worms stand and stoically wait their turn to do the others in.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RXUK8BSODSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/9oZ4qOR4kqc/s1600-h/Worms.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8x_MMYqzHQ/RXUK8BSODSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/9oZ4qOR4kqc/s400/Worms.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004918587145456930" border="0" /></a>How is this tied to my travels? Keep reading...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rowing 2.0</span><br /><br />Hanoi is a wonderful place to use as a jump-off point to some interesting locations. The first one I went to was Tam Coc. Tam Coc is a small village about 3 hours drive from Hanoi. It's on a river flowing through rice paddies, but the interesting thing about it is the limestone outcrops rising out of the water and fields up into the sky.<br /><br />On the way there we stopped at some old tombs that were not very interesting other than their age. But I did get a nice picture of this peasant who was posing for us tourists as we came out:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMSqRSOCtI/AAAAAAAABMo/Bm4kKUpsoeA/Img2006-10-24_0020.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMSqRSOCtI/AAAAAAAABMo/Bm4kKUpsoeA/Img2006-10-24_0020.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>We arrived at the village and went to the pier were small rowboats were waiting for the tourist rush. We were paired off into the boats, along with 2 locals, and sent off on our merry way. My boat mate, Canadian Matthew, said the area the boats pulled out of was so artificial with a white stone railing all around the round pool that he expected small dolls to jump out and start singing "It's a small world after all" at any time.<br /><br />Soon, however, we passed the Disney part of the experience. In order to leave the village, the boat had to go under a small bridge. Since the tunnel under the bridge was so narrow, we both had to get off the benches we were sitting on down to the floor and duck. This please-sue-us part of the ride made it clear we were no longer in Kansas, eh, Disney anymore.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMSuhSOCuI/AAAAAAAABMw/f10HKEdk0k8/Img2006-10-24_0026.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMSuhSOCuI/AAAAAAAABMw/f10HKEdk0k8/Img2006-10-24_0026.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>Once beyond the bridge, the full beauty of the area became visible. The river was not very wide and on either side limestone rocks shot up out of the ground. Many of them were not connected to each other with fields or water in between, making it a very surreal scene.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMTLhSOC2I/AAAAAAAABNw/Nt7b0Fo6E64/Img2006-10-24_0081.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMTLhSOC2I/AAAAAAAABNw/Nt7b0Fo6E64/Img2006-10-24_0081.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>That's when it hit me. I was looking around trying to see the worms clustered on the hiltops pointing shot guns at each other or grappling to achieve a more favorable perch. The randomness of the hills made them look as if they were some landscape out of the Worms game.<br /><br />We set off, all the boats of all the tourists going the same way, looking like an expedition of the Royal Geographic Society in Africa. All that was missing were the native pack bearers and the umbrellas to protect us from the Sun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMS5hSOCxI/AAAAAAAABNI/xPaYfwMPvD0/Img2006-10-24_0042.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMS5hSOCxI/AAAAAAAABNI/xPaYfwMPvD0/Img2006-10-24_0042.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>A couple of times we passed under the mountains in places where the water seems to have excavated passages underground. These long passages would be dark, creating nice effects where the other side became visible as we approached it.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMTFRSOC0I/AAAAAAAABNg/SHUiCV5HKHU/Img2006-10-24_0073.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMTFRSOC0I/AAAAAAAABNg/SHUiCV5HKHU/Img2006-10-24_0073.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>It took me a while to notice, but boat rowing here is done in reverse. Instead of the rower facing back and pulling the oars to get the boat moving, rowers over here face the front and push the oars. It seemed a very strange thing. After all, when you pull, you brace your feet against the boat to get the optimum power going. But when you push, what do you push against?<br /><br />Some more reflection made it clear. Rowing with your hands is only done when you go slowly and need the minimal amount of power to move. As soon as we started moving a bit faster, our rower let go of the oars, sat back leaning against the boat with his hands and put his feet on the oars. From then on he proceeded to row with his feet. In an amazing display of skill he would maneuver each oar towards him with curled feet, then push against the oar with his legs.<br /><br />Don't believe me? Watch this short documentary I shot!<br /><br /><embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=8662807765425641793&hl=en" flashvars=""></embed><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">(How'd you like my wonderful narrative?)<br /><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Merchandising</span><br /><br />The place was ideal for selling things. After an hour of travel, we arrived at a small cul-de-sac where all the tourist boats ended up. There were local vendors in small boats with everything from cold drinks to snacks to fresh pineapple.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMTPRSOC3I/AAAAAAAABN4/ycsn5A-1xK4/Img2006-10-24_0094.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXMTPRSOC3I/AAAAAAAABN4/ycsn5A-1xK4/Img2006-10-24_0094.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>After 10 minutes there while a vendor pestered us until she judged we won't buy anything else, we turned around and started back. This being the same way we came, the rowers decided it was a good time to disturb us. While one kept rowing, the other oepened up a container and began displaying souvenirs for us to buy. We were the epitome of a captive audience, but luckily she did not press too much, just let us see it and when we said we weren't interested she went back to talk with the other guy manning the boat.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">An Afterlife Special - Misted Halong Bay</span><br /><br />My next jump from Hanoi was to a bay called Halong Bay in the Gulf of Tonkin, part of the South China Sea. The bay is famous for the large number of small islands jutting out of the sea. It's similar to Tam Coc but on a much grander scale.<br /><br />Once we cleared the throng of tourists waiting to board the boats and got onto ours, we had a quick lunch and proceeded to sail into the bay. The scenery is just amazing. As far as the eye can see rocks emerge from the water pointing up at the sky.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO2ohSODCI/AAAAAAAABPc/NdT2sUyE_dM/Img2006-10-25_0033.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO2ohSODCI/AAAAAAAABPc/NdT2sUyE_dM/Img2006-10-25_0033.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>Explanations about how the bay came into existence are of four different categories: The boring, the mythological, the artistic and the geeky.<br /><br /><ul><li>The boring: 300 million years ago, a large earthquake shook the area, creating the bay and the jutting rocks. Yawn. ZZZzzzzz</li></ul><ul><li>The mythological: "Halong" means "dragon decending into the sea". When the dragon, father of the people of Vietnam, landed in the ocean his feet gouged the earth and thus the bay came to be.<br /><br /></li><li>The artistic: The islands are the result of a huge hand drawing a finger painting under the sea. Islands are where the hand pushed up out of the sea.<br /></li></ul><ul><li>The geeky: The bay was a beta version of the Worms landscape generator. Really. Look at it. It's ready-made to play. Just add some worms and missiles and you can start.</li></ul>The boat we were on had a main cabin where we dined, a lower deck at the front and a deck on top of the boat where we lounged and watched the world go by. I love sailing. The world plays out in front of you, continuously changing, never repeating. We also had cabins with a small attached bathroom each. This was, after all, an overnight cruise.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO2qhSODDI/AAAAAAAABPk/YbWgGyDC-Ww/Img2006-10-25_0038.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO2qhSODDI/AAAAAAAABPk/YbWgGyDC-Ww/Img2006-10-25_0038.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>The air during this season is continuously misty. Sea mist obscures everything beyond a certain distance, making it difficult to see far away (and making photos less interesting). The sky is white and the Sun is a blurred disk shining through. Sailing through this landscape with the mist covering the horizon felt like it was an afterlife sail into the next world taken out of some pagan mythology.<br /><br />We sailed for a few hours, the Sun slowly going down and the color changing a bit to amber.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO2zxSODGI/AAAAAAAABP8/nWO-ORMub8k/Img2006-10-25_0059.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO2zxSODGI/AAAAAAAABP8/nWO-ORMub8k/Img2006-10-25_0059.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>We eventually reached our stopping point for the night, a stretch of sea between islands where all the other Junks (the name of the boats) stopped for the night. As night descended, we had dinner then went to sleep early - there was really nothing to do.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO3PBSODNI/AAAAAAAABQ0/0nbxG9cDGlQ/Img2006-10-26_0031.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RXO3PBSODNI/AAAAAAAABQ0/0nbxG9cDGlQ/Img2006-10-26_0031.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>I woke up really early, wanting to catch the sunrise when the sky is still clear and the sea mist has not yet filled the air. At 4:30a it was beginning to turn lighter. I climbed up on the top deck and grabbed a lounge chair, iPod and the two cameras with me. First the sky turned less dark, then a bit gray, then it got whiter and whiter and it became obvious that the sea mist was in the air all night as well. It was very disappointing.<br /><br />After breakfast we set sail back to land, a few hours of soothing sailing before the long car ride back to Hanoi.<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Worms" rel="tag">Worms</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Halong+Bay" rel="tag">Halong Bay</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Tom+Cac" rel="tag">Tom Cac</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Worms" rel="tag">Worms</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Halong+Bay" rel="tag">Halong Bay</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Tom+Cac" rel="tag">Tom Cac</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-60052731271600396532006-11-27T17:38:00.000-08:002006-12-03T11:31:47.598-08:00Of Cabbages and Kings*Albums for this blog can be found at:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/HoiAnAndMySon"><img src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo9goj3ABE/AAAAAAAABGg/RAOlXfIBMsA/s160-c/HoiAnAndMySon.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/HoiAnAndMySon"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Hoi An and My Son</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"></div></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/Hue"><img src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo___lCABE/AAAAAAAABME/KftP9VA_owg/s160-c/Hue.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/Hue"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Hue</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"></div></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/Hanoi"><img src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvaidg9ABE/AAAAAAAABLI/gnlKrLy8Lek/s160-c/Hanoi.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/Hanoi"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Hanoi</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"></div></div><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And Now on with the Story</span><br /><br />I spent the few days following my motorcycle trip in a nice town called Hoi An. Hoi An used to be the major port of southern Vietnam for about 1000 years and has a nice old town you can walk around in. Most houses are about 300 years old (hurricanes come by and destroy the town every few hundred years). Merchants from China, Japan, India and even Portugal used to come to Hoi An, trade for silk, spices and other goods and sail back.<br /><br />Today most of the houses are used as restaurants or tourist shops though the structures are well maintained.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo_FUy-ABI/AAAAAAAABFU/p5chAJiwxxQ/Img2006-10-19_0026.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo_FUy-ABI/AAAAAAAABFU/p5chAJiwxxQ/Img2006-10-19_0026.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>The ferry crossing in Hoi An also lets you take your bicycle across. This is especially important for the kids.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo_OzwVABI/AAAAAAAABFk/U8tWmuwV9rQ/Img2006-10-19_0043.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo_OzwVABI/AAAAAAAABFk/U8tWmuwV9rQ/Img2006-10-19_0043.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>I also finally caught a good picture of school girls in the traditional Vietnamese garb. Notice the face masks. There are two reasons for them. First of all, they help keep the smog and dirt out. But most importantly, in a country that considers whiter skin as more beautiful, girls keep their faces hidden from the Sun to keep them paler.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo-2jY1ABI/AAAAAAAABE0/txgtNpnfGiE/Img2006-10-19_0001.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo-2jY1ABI/AAAAAAAABE0/txgtNpnfGiE/Img2006-10-19_0001.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Chams</span><br /><br />Hoi An also serves as a jumping point for a day trip to My Son. My Son is the historical holy city of a minority called the Chams. The buildings are from 1000 years ago when the Chams were the growing empire in the area. In their heyday their kingdom reached all the way into Cambodia and they fought the Khmers, builders of Angkor Wat.<br /><br />The buildings are built of bricks and carvings were made into the bricks after they were placed. To this day, no one knows how they glued the bricks together but they hold quite well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo9xhVcABI/AAAAAAAABDU/exT3T24pJEg/Img2006-10-18_0005.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo9xhVcABI/AAAAAAAABDU/exT3T24pJEg/Img2006-10-18_0005.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>The Chams were Hindu and the statues and decorations in the ruins reflect that. According to the tour guide, the head of this statue was either cut away by the Chams when they deserted the area or else carved off by the French as an archaeological treasure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo-d6KbABI/AAAAAAAABEM/FypDLh-7HpI/Img2006-10-18_0026.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWo-d6KbABI/AAAAAAAABEM/FypDLh-7HpI/Img2006-10-18_0026.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>During the Vietnam war, there was a small VC base in the ruins. The US responded by bombing most of the buldings that were still standing so unfortunately not that much survived.<br /><br />When I got back, my feet hurt enough that I figured I'd try a foot massage. I remembered seeing a sign next to the hotel and so I went in search of the place. There was a large picture of a foot with reflexology-style markings on it. The sign said "Hair and Nails Salon" but I did the typical westerner's all-asians-know-about-good-massage-so-what-if-its-a-salon thing and went in. $7 for 45 minutes of massage. I said fine.<br /><br />Imagine my disappointment when the girl brought over one of those automatic foot massage buckets and had me place my feet in it. She turned it on and I tried to figure out if I need to sit there for 45 minutes before I pay the fine and leave.<br /><br />But 5 minutes later it turned out that all-asians-know-about-good-massage-so-what-if-its-a-salon and the bucket was just to clean my feet. She proceeded to rub them dry, then had me move to the massage room where she and a guy that took over later did amazing things to my feet. Amazing! If you're ever there, I have the card.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Home of the Kings<br /></span><br />My next stop was Hue. Hue, a city on the Vietnam coast, was home to the last chain of kings to rule Vietnam. This is where the Nguyen emperors set up camp, built their capital and their palaces. The old city is an amazing 2.5km by 2.5 km surrounded by a wall. Today it is inside the modern city. Inside the old city is the forbidden purple city, home to the emperor himself. The city was badly damaged during the fight with the French and later the locals took bricks and wood from it to build houses. Few of the buildings survived and some of the palace grounds were used to grow food.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpAjks_ABI/AAAAAAAABHY/m7SaQansg_A/Img2006-10-20_0039.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpAjks_ABI/AAAAAAAABHY/m7SaQansg_A/Img2006-10-20_0039.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>When I got back home (to the US) from the trip, the number one question on my mind was: are my fish still alive?<br /><br />I left my aquarium with somewhere between 20-30 guppies swimming in it and left for five weeks. The light turns on and off automatically, the filter is strong and will take care of the water quality but food was a question mark. I use an automatic fish feeder and I made sure it was full before I left, but was that enough food?<br /><br />I came up the elevator with all the bags, opened the door and looked. There they were:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/DSC_0005.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/DSC_0005.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>But the feeder was empty!<br /><br />I have two theories about this:<br /><br />1) In the time honored Hollywood tradition, I came home just in time. The last day they had food was day-before yesterday and any additional day delay would have killed them all.<br /><br />2) In the time honored Hollywood tradition of copying film plots, my fish acted out the script of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0106246/">Alive, </a>feeding off their dead until I arrived.<br /><br />Whichever it was, there still about the same number of fish in the tank, plus a few newly born ones which are usually snacks for the older fish so I'm going to go with option 1.<br /><br />In the forbidden city, tourists can pay a bit of money to feed the schools of Koi fish that swim in the ponds. It's a nice system :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpAPccWABI/AAAAAAAABG4/4DNiXn0ECBU/Img2006-10-20_0019.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpAPccWABI/AAAAAAAABG4/4DNiXn0ECBU/Img2006-10-20_0019.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>Hue has a few other attractions like this 7-story pagoda<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpAujTuABI/AAAAAAAABHo/MAQ6QNgRC7c/Img2006-10-20_0087.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpAujTuABI/AAAAAAAABHo/MAQ6QNgRC7c/Img2006-10-20_0087.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>or this old covered bridge outside of town,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpA_sRYABI/AAAAAAAABII/JPgDW7OgCGs/Img2006-10-20_0095.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpA_sRYABI/AAAAAAAABII/JPgDW7OgCGs/Img2006-10-20_0095.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>but the main event is a ride up the perfume river to see the palaces / tombs built by the emperors. The boat makes its way up the river stopping from time to time to let us off to see one or another of these tombs. Some of them are on the river bank, some are a couple of kilometers inland.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpBTyJ0ABI/AAAAAAAABIo/Sw3GT4ptc_s/Img2006-10-21_0075.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpBTyJ0ABI/AAAAAAAABIo/Sw3GT4ptc_s/Img2006-10-21_0075.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpBYGIsABI/AAAAAAAABIw/chCfKMsTT3k/Img2006-10-21_0045.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpBYGIsABI/AAAAAAAABIw/chCfKMsTT3k/Img2006-10-21_0045.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpBdHQeABI/AAAAAAAABI4/HXDCFmMVwWo/Img2006-10-21_0064.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWpBdHQeABI/AAAAAAAABI4/HXDCFmMVwWo/Img2006-10-21_0064.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Leaving Hue</span><br /><br />I then took a night bus to my next destination. 13 hours and you can try and sleep as many of them as you can. I actually did pretty well considering. I had an interesting experience getting the ticket. The hotel I was staying at in Hue was selling tickets for $9. The bus left at 6p and so I wanted the room until then. But they wouldn't let me keep the room so late without paying the $4 half a day rate.<br /><br />And the store across the alley was selling tickets to Hanoi for $6.5. So I went back to the hotel and said I'll buy their ticket for $9 if they let me keep the room. They politely explained that was not possible. When I threatened to buy the ticket across the street instead, their ticket price started going down. We stopped at $7, at which point I said I'll buy it from them only if they'll give me the room till 6p for $2. They said yes.<br /><br />Now I think math in Vietnam works the same as in the rest of the world. So why does ticket + room till 6p for $9 different from ticket for $7 plus room till 6p for $2?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Towers of...</span><br /><br />Hanoi is the capital of Vietnam. It has a different atmosphere from Saigon. It feels more raw even though the tourist industry is going strong. I got a room at a hotel in the market and had to suffer through all the fishwives (really, they were) pointing at me and discussing me whenever I passed through. I don't think they were using terms like "Lucky Buddha" to describe me up in Hanoi. Much more raw.<br /><br />I went to see the first university in Vietnam, the Temple of Literature. Established in 1070, it was a place for high learning for Mandarins of the king's court.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvazYFeABI/AAAAAAAABJ8/N15ZwsITDkU/Img2006-10-23_0023.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvazYFeABI/AAAAAAAABJ8/N15ZwsITDkU/Img2006-10-23_0023.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>In 1484, the emperor decided to publicly recognize the students passing their doctorate tests. The idea was to create a large stone stelae and carve the names of students and their home towns onto it.<br /><br />There are four animals the Vietnamese consider long lived and therefore suitable for carrying the stone tablets on their backs. The Phoenix, the Unicorn, the Dragon, and the Turtle. For extra credit, can you pick the one that is not exactly like the rest?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWva9U5WABI/AAAAAAAABKM/0y--u_McBJg/Img2006-10-23_0036.jpg?imgmax=720"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWva9U5WABI/AAAAAAAABKM/0y--u_McBJg/Img2006-10-23_0036.jpg?imgmax=720" alt="" border="0" /></a>I wonder if they chose turtles because they had live examples to copy from or because they have all the qualities of a table - flat backed on four short sturdy legs.<br /><br />Walking around the Temple of Literature trying to find the entrance I saw this guy who took a break from it all. He strung a hammock between the street light and the wall and went to sleep.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvaoit4ABI/AAAAAAAABJs/WOypOWyD9IM/Img2006-10-23_0022.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvaoit4ABI/AAAAAAAABJs/WOypOWyD9IM/Img2006-10-23_0022.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>Another of Hanoi's interesting spots was the one-pillar pagoda. The original was destroyed by the French when they left Vietnam but was rebuilt by the Vietnamese.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvbROkvABI/AAAAAAAABKs/j3VDWvnJxA4/Img2006-10-23_0060.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvbROkvABI/AAAAAAAABKs/j3VDWvnJxA4/Img2006-10-23_0060.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>Near the one-pillar pagoda was a larger temple where I caught this monk ringing the bell.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvbXPtBABI/AAAAAAAABK0/VqsQT-S0NtA/Img2006-10-23_0072.jpg?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWvbXPtBABI/AAAAAAAABK0/VqsQT-S0NtA/Img2006-10-23_0072.jpg?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a>* <span style="font-weight: bold;">Of Cabbages and Kings</span> is a line from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lewis_Carrol">Lewis Carrol</a>'s nonsense poem <a href="http://www.literature.org/authors/carroll-lewis/the-hunting-of-the-snark/">The Hunting of the Snark</a>.<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Hoi+An" rel="tag">Hoi An</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/My+Son" rel="tag">My Son</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Chams" rel="tag">Chams</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Hue" rel="tag">Hue</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Perfume+River" rel="tag">Perfume River</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Hanoi" rel="tag">Hanoi</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Lewis+Carrol" rel="tag">Lewis Carrol</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Hoi+An" rel="tag">Hoi An</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/My+Son" rel="tag">My Son</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Chams" rel="tag">Chams</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Hue" rel="tag">Hue</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Perfume+River" rel="tag">Perfume River</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Hanoi" rel="tag">Hanoi</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Lewis+Carrol" rel="tag">Lewis Carrol</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-14284081258948208922006-11-18T00:08:00.000-08:002006-11-19T17:15:11.352-08:00Land of the Artichokes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/473603/Banner1.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/49519/Banner1.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Means of Locomotion</span><br /><br />It's 4:30a in the morning when I sleepily climb into Ly's tuktuk. In Thailand and India, a tuktuk is a 3-wheeled, smog-spouting vehicle with the driver sitting up front and a wide, covered seat for passengers in the back. Here in Cambodia, the design has been improved on. Since the invention of the wheel, Man has been harnessing the power of non-wheeled things to pull carts, carriages and anything else that could carry things. From man to buffalo to horse, anything with the power to move has been hitched to a cart and told to pull.<br /><br />In Cambodia, they took the idea to the next step. They've hitched the motorcycle. Ly's tuktuk is a small, run-of-the-mill motorcycle with the back seat converted to a harness. That harness is connected to a two-wheeled covered "wagon" with a large, almost regal, seat. This is a much more comfortable and much cleaner ride than the original tuktuk. For the princely some of $35, Ly is my personal driver for the next 3 days.<br /><br />I climbed into the seat with my camera bag and off we went through the dark streets of Siem Reap. We weren't alone. Many other taxis, motorcycles and tuktuks where going the same route. We stopped for a few minutes to get me a ticket and off we were to our first site.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/121135/Banner2.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/46178/Banner2.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Artichoke City</span><br /><br />Once we left Siem Reap, we traveled through a dark forest. The first glimpse of our target was a large river. The sky was starting to lighten and we could see its reflection in the water. Our river of traffic followed the real one, angling around a 90 degree bend and continuing on.<br /><br />The sky is turning reddish-blue, promising a wonderful sunrise. The sun will rise from beyond the river, hence the sky is bright but the jungle across the river looks completely black. It looks like the Hollywood set for an old Tarzan movie. The black-silhouetted trees extending into the bright sky seems to be painted onto a huge canvas serving as the backdrop for a cannibal cooking feast scene.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/882287/Banner3.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/677019/Banner3.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I can see the palm trees sticking out of the canopy and being reflected in the river, some 200 meters (600 feet wide). As Ly keeps gunning the motor and the tourist stream keeps moving at a slow but steady pace, I suddenly notice some strange trees sticking out against the backdrop. Could these be huge artichokes? Artichokes?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/605163/Banner4.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/832069/Banner4.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Artichokes do not grow on trees nor reach this size. What can this be?<br /><br />That's when it hit me. We've arrived. This is majestic Angkor Wat! And that river is no river - it's a moat surrounding all of Angkor Wat.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/825598/Banner5.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/141444/Banner5.png" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Angkor Background</span><br /><br />Angkor Wat (Holy Temple) is only one of a staggering number of temples, palaces and structures in the Siem Reap area. Siem Reap means "Siam Defeated" even though the city was eventually conquered by the Thais. Today it is back in Cambodian hands and serves the tourist population that comes by to see Angkor.<br /><br />Angkor Wat itself was built during the reign of Suryavarman II, 1112-1152. It sits a kilometer outside of Angkor Thom, the walled city of Angkor. While the temple is huge (1km by 800m or 0.5 mile by 0.6 mile), the city is even bigger. At 10 sq km, it contains a number of temples and palaces, as well as jungle and the ever-present rice fields where locals continue to grow their food to this day.<br /><br />The structures in the Angkor area were built from 875 AD to 1230 AD by a succession of kings, at an unknown cost of human lives. The most common building material is red or black limestone that was quarried 40km away from the site then floated on barges down the river to the construction area.<br /><br /><span>You can see my Angkor Wat photo album at:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/AngorWat"><img src="http://lh6.google.com/image/eran.davidov/RWAOV2h3ABE/AAAAAAAAAyQ/lCeyL__oSm8/s160-c/AngorWat.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/AngorWat"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Angor Wat</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"></div></div><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Mount Meru and Churned Milk</span><br /><br />Cambodia at the time was a Hindu nation, transitioning into Buddhism. The king decided on the religion and the rest followed. The country flip-flopped a couple of times before finally settling on Buddhism as its main religion.<br /><br />The construction of most of the temples reflected the Hindu mythology. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Meru">Mount Meru</a>, tallest mountain and home of the gods (does this sound like Olympus in any way?) served as the blueprint for the buildings. Mount Meru is surrounded by 4 lower mountains and by oceans. Angkor Wat is built with 4 towers surrounding a higher 5th. Artificial lakes and the moat surround the towers. Other buildings in the area follow the same plan.<br /><br />The walls are decorated with endless bas-reliefs. Most are variations of celestial dancers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/343176/Img2006-10-28_0097.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/614160/Img2006-10-28_0097.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The building of the Angkor Temple has stories carved into the walls all around it. This corridor, for example, talks about the king that built Angkor and of life in Cambodia at the time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/707957/Img2006-10-28_0135.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/537713/Img2006-10-28_0135.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />A story that repeats itself both in bas-relief and through statues in other structures is the Churning of the Sea of Milk. The gods and demons both sought after the elixir of mortality. In order to get it, they used the serpent Vasuki, the gods holding on to his head and the demons to his tail and pulled back and forth in order to churn the sea of milk. Out of the sea arose both the elixir (which the gods then nabbed and became immortal) but also the celestial dancers that abound all over the walls in Angkor.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/176054/Img2006-10-29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/190409/Img2006-10-29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The scene was recreated in statues at the entrance to Angkor Thom and Preah Kahn, another temple in the are.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/915367/Img2006-10-29_0088.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/283144/Img2006-10-29_0088.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Right next to the statues I found this fiddler crab that looked at me very suspiciously and turned wherever I went so that it could keep me in its sights.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/947865/Img2006-10-29_0085.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/719010/Img2006-10-29_0085.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Mount Meru is difficult to climb and the temple is built to reflect that. The stairs leading to the platform where the 5 towers seat look regular from far away.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/174214/Img2006-10-28_0078.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/798676/Img2006-10-28_0078.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Until you approach them and realize the steps are very high and very narrow. It's almost like climbing a ladder except some of the steps are broken so watch out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/335141/Img2006-10-28_0081.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/242625/Img2006-10-28_0081.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The view from the top is nice though and definitely worth the climb.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Other Structures and Sights</span><br /><br />As I mentioned, the area is vast with many temples and places, and two barrays. A barray is a huge, artificial body of water used both for political reasons as well as agricultural ones. The ones in Angkor are 2km x 8km wide.<br /><br />Ta Phrom is the famous crumbled temple. While Angkor Wat was inhabited the entire time since it was built and thus relatively well preserved, Ta Phrom was abandoned. Birds flying over it dropped seeds that eventually grew into trees on top of the Ta Phrom structures. The site is the famous one from <a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0325703/">Tomb Raider II</a>, where Angelina Jolie enters a long lost temple. Angelina seems to be as famous here as the temples, with tourist guides claiming they have pictures with her and showing you where the scenes were shot.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/22399/Img2006-10-28_0216.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/171815/Img2006-10-28_0216.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Other interesting sites include the mysterious smiling faces at the Bayon temple, looking down on you from on high.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/457351/Img2006-10-29_0034.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/272126/Img2006-10-29_0034.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />There's also the Hindu temple delicately carved from red stone.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/82138/Img2006-10-30_0034.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/858674/Img2006-10-30_0034.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/700051/Img2006-10-30_0035.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/340547/Img2006-10-30_0035.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bandolla<br /><br /></span><span>Near each site and sometimes even inside are locals selling drinks and souvenirs. The most common practice is to let kids, the littler the better, be the ones selling or at least the ones bringing you into the store. They are less resistible.<br /><br />Walking around, I was approached by a small girl (probably 6-7) who tried to sell me a flute. She kept saying "you buy flute from me" and "only one dollar" and so one. She kept asking where I was from, trying to make conversation while I practiced my meditation mantra "no, no, no" without achieving enlightenment or even inner peace. Suddenly, a boy approached us from the other side. He too had flutes with him and held one up for me to see. I kept walking towards the temple I've come to see while the girl furiously whispered something to the boy in Cambodian. He didn't seem to get it though even I could understand the "go away I'm already selling to this bozo" instructions. The girl kept saying "one flute one dollar" at which point the boy said "two flutes, one dollar". I remained unconcerned - I can play on two flutes as well as I can on one - not at all. The girl, upping the ante, said "three flutes, one dollar" and the whole scene deteriorated into a price war.<br /><br />Kids are also there to be adorable. I don't mean that in an existential way, I mean in the cold, calculating, hard cash way of the tourist paying to take a picture. In strategic locations around the sites you'll see cute kids sitting around doing nothing. As you approach, they'll jump into a pose and ask you if you want a picture. I saw a small kid hug his baby sister when I arrived, as well as another who held up a tiny puppy when she saw me approaching. These were way too artificial for my taste. The only one I shot was a candid of this girl who was sitting waiting for tourists to arrive.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/603351/Img2006-10-30_0004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/9630/Img2006-10-30_0004.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span><br />Walking into one of the temples, a very small girl approached me. She was barely out of toddlerhood and was walking with that unstable amble of little kids. She held up a set of postcards and asked me something. I asked her what her name was to which she replied "Bandolla".<br /><br />Bandolla? That didn't sound Cambodian.<br /><br />"Bandolla?" I asked. She just looked at me, showed me the postcards again and said "One Dollar". I walked on.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Very Similar but not Quite</span><br /><br />In Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, the phrase "Same-Same" seems to have been adopted by the locals when speaking to tourists. I'm not sure if it's a morphing of "the same" or how it came about but the usage is "is same same" when you want to say something is similar to something else.<br /><br />For example "our tour is same-same other company" or "our rooms near the river, same-same other hotel", etc.<br /><br />Of course having "same-same" in the language quickly leads to the creation of "but it's not exactly equivalent". The appropriate phrase - "same-same but different" can be found on T-shirts sold throughout the region.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shooting it Out</span><br /></span></span><br />Coming back to town on the second day, Ly asked me if I wanted to shoot a gun. We came up on an intersection where the sign pointed left to a dirt road and said "4th army regiment training ground". We took that turn and after a few minutes rough driving arrived at the shooting range "just next" to the army base.<br /><br />You can choose your poison, from M-16s, AK-47 or older guns and shoot 35 bullets for $35. I declined. There was nothing there we didn't do at basic training.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Last Artichoke<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><span><span><br />I started the second day early again, though this time I went to places where the tourists weren't. Walking between the faces of Bayon, seeing the elephant terrace and other palaces while the Sun is just starting its climb and sound of the jungle surround you is magical. Walking along the forest paths, you see tiny things jump away. I thought they were insects at first, but a closer examination showed they were tiny frogs, no bigger than the nail of my smallest finger. You can see the frog in this picture smack in the middle. Look how well it blends in with the color of the ground.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/195228/Img2006-10-29_0091.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/83367/Img2006-10-29_0091.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span><span>There are</span></span> a few spots in Angkor famous for their sunset-ability. These are locations where everyone congregates to watch the sunset. One such was a hilltop temple near Angkor Thom. We arrived early so that I'd have time to climb it and catch a good place to sit. You can shell out $15 and be carried by an elephant to the top of the hill. I declined and took the path climbing up the hill. The path is not steep but it is long and takes a while to navigate. By this point in the trip I was in a better physical shape and took the whole hill in one go. I arrived huffing and puffing to the top where cresting the rise I was greeted by another one of those damn artichokes.<br /><br />This one had a flat top and looked to be crawling with tourists.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/502415/Img2006-10-29_0143.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/367142/Img2006-10-29_0143.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I climbed the high and narrow stairs (you've got to work at getting to Mt. Meru) and at the top walked around trying to find a good vantage point. I was sorely disappointed. The trees all around the hill obscure a lot of the view and the landscape is nothing special.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/750096/Img2006-10-29_0141.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/512655/Img2006-10-29_0141.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Angkor Wat itself was too far and required the full magnification of my camera to catch a lame shot of it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/209464/Img2006-10-29_0137.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6189/1864/400/62519/Img2006-10-29_0137.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I climbed down while the sun set, leaving the tourists hoards and the television crew on top of the temple to watch it go down. The following day I took myself to Angkor Wat, sat myself down on one of the surrounding buildings and took this time-lapse movie of the tourists leaving as the day ends on Angkor.<br /><br /><embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=5082912266379871408&hl=en" flashvars=""></embed><br /><br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Cambodia" rel="tag">Cambodia</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Angkor+Wat" rel="tag">Angkor Wat</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Artichoke" rel="tag">Artichoke</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Tuktuk" rel="tag">Tuktuk</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Hinduism" rel="tag">Hinduism</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Buddhism" rel="tag">Buddhism</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Mt.+Meru" rel="tag">Mt. Meru</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span><br /><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Cambodia" rel="tag">Cambodia</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Angkor+Wat" rel="tag">Angkor Wat</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Artichoke" rel="tag">Artichoke</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Tuktuk" rel="tag">Tuktuk</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Hinduism" rel="tag">Hinduism</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Buddhism" rel="tag">Buddhism</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Mt.+Meru" rel="tag">Mt. Meru</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-71199696458192400902006-11-12T21:51:00.000-08:002006-11-12T22:40:02.497-08:00Saigon StoriesOct 10-11<br /><br />I'm finally back home and can access my main blog site. I can also access that post I started writing in the first week, so here's back to the beginning of the trip. I've still got quite a few stories so you'll see more and more throughout the next few weeks.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Making Friends</span><br /><br />There I was, second day in Saigon, trying to figure out what to do. I woke up in the morning and saw the rain pouring out of the gray sky and reminded myself that this IS the rainy season. I walked out of the hotel with an umbrella, though it seems only tourists (and a small number at that) use umbrellas. Considering the everyone-has-a-motorcycle culture, umbrellas are not really relevant. Everyone has a rain parka made out of plastic. There are single-use ones to buy for very cheap. These are made of the same material as a convenience store plastic bag. Others have more permanent ones. The only exceptions to the rule were some women that were walking around with the canonical hats so specific to Vietnam.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/Img2006-10-09_0021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/Img2006-10-09_0021.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Once I started walking it took me exactly 60 seconds to understand I'd much rather wait out the rain. This was two store fronts away from the hotel, right next to a tourist restaurant that had both European and Vietnamese food. The waitress flagged me and I decided the rain has had enough of me for now.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/Img2006-10-10_0005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/200/Img2006-10-10_0005.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I sat there and read the menu while the waitresses discussed me in detail and took my picture on their camera phone. Then one of the older ones asked if I was married and told the others in Vietnamese that they should take care of me. Then I was invited to go out on the town with one of the younger girls (Toui - see picture) once she's off work at 3p.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >The Rickshaw Driver</span><br /><br />While sitting in that restaurant, a rickshaw driver had me in his sights. A driver is a misnomer since these rickshaws are like extended bicycles with a seat in the front. The driver sits in the back and drives you by pedaling.<br />I kept insisting that I'm too heavy, but he was determined. He got me into the rickshaw (an experience in itself) and we valiantly set out to site-see Saigon. Check out the driver and rickshaw in this picture:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/Img2006-10-10_0086.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/Img2006-10-10_0086.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />To his credit, he even smoked from time to time while pedaling me across the city.<br />We saw a number of pagodas, a lot of traffic and the electronics market (since I needed earphones). Most striking though was the Notre Dame cathedral in Saigon.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/Img2006-10-10_0061.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/Img2006-10-10_0061.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Pay close attention to the close-up of the statue and what the woman is holding in her hands.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/Img2006-10-10_0058.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/Img2006-10-10_0058.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Yes! It's the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Hand_Grenade_of_Antioch">Holly Hand Grenade of Antioch</a> from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Python_and_the_Holy_Grail">Monthy Python's Quest for the Holy Grail</a>!<br /><br />The trip was about 2 hours, though we made stops every 15 minutes or so for me to see something or walk around some site. At the end, I asked him to drop me in the fine arts museum. They had some really nice photos though some atrocious paintings. Apparently state-controled...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Glimpsing Vietnam through A Karaoke Machine</span><br /><br />In the afternoon I went on my date with the waitress. After a brief lunch and some walking around town, we decided to go for Karaoke. We got into a cab where she proceeded to have a long ("unrelated topic") conversation with the driver, then told him we're looking for a karaoke bar. He said he'll take us to a cheap one and my suggestion of going to a good one instead was lost in translation.<br /><br />He dropped us off in some neighborhood away from the center, where only locals go and so the prices are lower. The building we entered was a kind of community center for the local youth. The corridor started off with a kiosk on the right hand side, then on our left was a gym were boys and young men were pumping iron. The windows of the gym were open into the corridor to allow for some air circulation and the smell of sweat permeated everything. Then on our right was a small bar with a single waitress and no clients and an internet cafe were some boys were killing each other over the network and some girls were chatting.<br /><br />I was back in Saigon. Toui and I went to that same Karaoke once more and I got the entrance pointlessly videoed for you.<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=8936929787441542313&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed><br /><br />Toui asked the waitress to open the Karaoke room for us. It turned out to be a room at the end of the corridor, about 2x5 meters (6x15 feet). On one side was a rounded couch with a place for 6 people and a broken table at the center. On the other side of the room was a television with a karaoke machine. We were the only ones there. They got the microphones out for us and asked what we wanted to drink.<br /><br />We proceeded to butcher songs left and right, me in English, she in Vietnamese. For those of you who haven't used this style karaoke machine before, this is a machine where if you sneeze next to the microphone the sound goes through filtration to remove noise, then echo and reverb effects are added and tone corrections are applied to add volume and presence to your sneeze. What comes out is a very professional Achoo, worthy of the best performers out there. While I don't know how well Toui was singing, the machine tried to rate us after every song. Her numbers started low and climbed while I started high with beginner's luck and never managed to replicate it.<br /><br />The machine would also tell us how well we did in words, from "wonderful singing!" and "Great!" to the somewhat ambiguous "You are a singer". Aren't we all?<br /><br />While we were singing, the TV would show scenes from all over vietnam. For me it was a great way to see the islands of Halong Bay and the sampans of the Mekong Delta while singing "New York New York". Once in a while, an ad for the local phone company would fly by near the stalactites of a famous cave.<br /><br />While I left the next day to go to Dalat (motorcycle blogs), I kept receiving SMS messages from Toui. Mostly: Are you eating? What did you do today? Wake up! and so on.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Buying Threads</span><br /><br />Back in Saigon after a few weeks, I re-enacted (<a href="http://erandavidov.blogspot.com/2004/07/magical-lago-de-atitlan.html">search for "thread"</a>) a scene I’ve done in other countries – buying embroidery threads for my mother (Hi mom!). Armed with an interpreter, since I can say thread in Hebrew, English and Spanish but for the life of me wouldn’t be able to explain what it is to a Vietnamese vendor at the market, I went shopping.<br /><br />It took a bit to explain to Toui what it was I was looking for but once she understood, she took charge. We went to the more-touristy market but could only find a few threads – they only had blue, red, green, and yellow. I was looking for many more colors than that.<br /><br />We found it at our next stop – the central market in China Town. You can find anything you need here and indeed we found threads. It took a while to explain that I want all the colors they have and three from each color, but at least they weren’t as unbelieving as their Guatemalan counterparts (you’d have to read that story in my old blog <a href="http://erandavidov.blogspot.com/2004/07/magical-lago-de-atitlan.html">here</a>). There was also no issue doing the math for how much it costs.<br /><br />Here’s the seller with all the 81 colors she was able to find:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/Img2006-11-02_0001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/Img2006-11-02_0001.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />That’s it for now. Next time, stories of what happened after the motorcycle blog.<br /><br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Saigon" rel="tag">Saigon</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Rickshaw+Monty+Python" rel="tag">Rickshaw Monty Python</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Karaoke" rel="tag">Karaoke</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Embroidery" rel="tag">Embroidery</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span><br /><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Saigon" rel="tag">Saigon</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Rickshaw+Monty+Python" rel="tag">Rickshaw Monty Python</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Karaoke" rel="tag">Karaoke</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Embroidery" rel="tag">Embroidery</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-24111361651628265652006-10-29T04:00:00.000-08:002006-11-12T21:49:33.309-08:00<span style="font-size:180%;">The Motorcycle Blogs III</span><br />Oct 13-17<br /><br />Though these are not sorted or organized in any way, I've uploaded some photos to the following album. A much cleaner version will come once I'm back home.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; height: 194px;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/Vietnam1"><img src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RSx24tebABE/AAAAAAAAAnQ/3sliB4qfjSA/s160-c/Vietnam1.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/Vietnam1"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Vietnam 1</div></a></div><br /><br />Also note the movies throughout this entry.<br /><br /><strong>Internet in Developing Countries - Audition</strong><br /><br />Stuart asked how I maintain this blog and whether I carry a laptop with me.<br />My bag is heavy enough as it is and the equipment I carry is expensive enough that a laptop would just have been a burden.The tools of the trade:<br /><br />- One Nikon D200 SLR digital camera with an 18-200 lens and a few accessories. (this is the first long trip I haven't carried a tripod with me though)<br /><br />- One Nikon Coolpix S9 pocket digital camera - I bought this as a backup camera after the painful lesson of having my previous lens stolen, though it turned out great for shooting movies and for carrying with me unobtrusively at night when walking around town.<br /><br />- One iPod with a digicam connector attachment - great for music but even better as a storage device for the digital photos. At night, I hook the cameras up to it, copy everything over and reformat the cards.<br /><br />As for Internet access - I've found that a lot of the developing countries are creating a new model for it. In countries as poor as Guatemala, Vietnam, Cambodia and Bolivia, you'd find Internet stores (not cafes) sprinkled all over the place. At first you might imagine they are for tourists to use for email and cheap internet phone calls, but that's only part of the story. People here are too poor to have an Internet connection, let alone buy their own PC.The solution: Internet stores. A small store having multiple PCs, all connected to the net (hopefully through DSL though not always).<br /><br />The uses: the young generation uses it the most. Kids play networked games against each other. On a weekend, these places are packed with barely a room to move - this is the new hangout.In most places I've seen the boys were playing war games, killing each other over the net, while the girls were either using chat or else playing a game called Audition, a networked version of Dance Dance Revolution. Girls sitting at different computers would compete at typing in the right sequence of key presses to make their avatar, usually hip US-style kids, dance and twirl on the screen. But then in Playcu I came into the store and saw the boys playing that too. I guess it crosses gender boundaries well enough.<br /><br />Internet stores are available almost anywhere. On the last night of the motorcycle trip, we stopped in a little town that barely had a small hotel. I asked my guide if there was an Internet store around and he said no. I convinced him to ask the locals and of course there was. We went in and, this being a small town, I became an even bigger celebrity than usual. Though they could not speak with me, they surrounded me and discussed me to death. At a certain point I got so fed up I turned on the camera and twisted it over my head to catch them all around me.<br /><br /><embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=2621636386170257308&hl=en" flashvars=""></embed><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Day 3 - Boun Ma Thuot to Playcu– 185 km<br /></strong></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RTJUOP4ZABI/AAAAAAAAAjI/muZyUV6zJL8/MeOnMotorcycle.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RTJUOP4ZABI/AAAAAAAAAjI/muZyUV6zJL8/MeOnMotorcycle.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><strong>A Small Step for Man, A Large Step for his Aching Behind</strong><br /><br />Riding a motorcycle is the closest I've come to experience free flight. The only things that interfere with your field of vision are the handle bars. The road passes by you and you can easily select how quickly. To move left or right you need only apply a bit of pressure and the bike accommodates you. It's an amazing feeling when you see the road passing under you. The only thing you can't do is go up :)<br /><br />Riding a motorcycle is like, well..., riding a bike. You never forget. But there are things you need to bring up from long term memory's vault. One is the proper time to switch gears. Yes - it's a manual bike. The other is the proper way of doing it. Gears in motorcycles are switched with the foot while the clutch is hand-operated.<br /><br />The Honda I drove for a day had a cyclical gear mechanism - you nudge the gear lever with your foot down and progress through 1st -> 2nd -> 3rd -> 4th -> neutral -> back to 1st. You can also kick up but why bother. The Daelim I was riding for the long 5 day trip had a linear gear mechanism - kick up to progress 1 -> 2 -> 3 -> 4, and down to go back. Neutral is somewhere between 1st and 2nd if you have a sensitive enough foot.<br /><br />Once you realize how your motorcycle behaves, you can get more out of it - you learn how fast you can go with 2nd and when the right time to switch to 3rd is. 4th is not really that useful in this area - you rarely get up to those speeds. I also learned that my guide was going slowly on purpose. He was saying "we have time, ride slow, enjoy the day" at the same time as he was telling me he rides the full 5 days' trail back in 1 day. He was not really catching on to the fact that my ass was taking a beating.<br /><br />So I finally just passed him and set the speed. I quickly realized that once I do that, he just follows at my own speed and passes me when he wants me to stop or if I go too slowly. We've reached speeds of 50kmh (30mph) on day 3! I know it's not the sound barrier but I was very happy.<br /><br /><strong>Kid Magnet<br /></strong><br />Our goal for day 3 was a city called Playcu. There's nothing really to see in Playcu, but my guide's mother was sick and in the hospital and that's his home town, so I agreed to stop there, about 20 km before our originally planned destination. From time to time I'd stop to take a picture or just to get off the bike and stretch my legs. One such unplanned stop was at a nowhere village along the road. Calling it a village is overstating it. We're talking about a handful of shacks along the main road.<br /><br />Phu (my guide) took my camera and crossed the road in order to take a photo of Eran, the great explorer, with the bike. Within 20 seconds I was surrounded by girls who came out of nowhere to stand next to me and be in the photo. The boys, apparently more shy, took a bit more time to come out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RUNOmRYyABI/AAAAAAAAAnA/DvXJyteOlHk/DSCN0067.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RUNOmRYyABI/AAAAAAAAAnA/DvXJyteOlHk/DSCN0067.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong>Bubble Gum Does Grow on Trees</strong><br /><br />Leaving Buon Ma Thuot, the the view changes. We were traveling through a more sparsely populated section of the road. Few villages were sprinkled along it, but most of the vegetation is either forests or rubber plantations. We stopped by one of these to see what it looks like. The people were very friendly and let us go into the forest where you can see endless rows of rubber trees. The rubber is harvested by slashing the trunk of the tree and hanging a little bowl to collect the rubber that flows out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGF-y5EABI/AAAAAAAAAlY/qiAiW9UnPag/DSC_0003.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGF-y5EABI/AAAAAAAAAlY/qiAiW9UnPag/DSC_0003.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then the rubber is put into buckets and left to condense a bit to get a less foamy, more rubbery texture. This is then sent out to factories to actually use the rubber in manufacturing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGF_EW6ABI/AAAAAAAAAlg/UPD2wYfrAJc/DSC_0007.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGF_EW6ABI/AAAAAAAAAlg/UPD2wYfrAJc/DSC_0007.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Day 4 - Playcu to Phuoc Son – 220 km<br /></span><br /><strong>Orphanages</strong><br /><br />We went to see a lake near Playcu, then continued on to Kon Tum where our stop was a local orphanage located behind a large wooden church. We arrived in the middle of the day when most kids were at school or out working. The first thing we saw was a room full of beds. Here sleep the 3-7 year olds. The room for babies and toddlers had an even smaller set of beds.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGIqF8EABI/AAAAAAAAAmA/e5zWCLX4eGc/DSC_0030.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGIqF8EABI/AAAAAAAAAmA/e5zWCLX4eGc/DSC_0030.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The manager of the orphanage could not speak a word of English, but showed me their visitor book and also their pictures of adopted kids with their happy parents. The orphanage hosts 220 kids of ages 0-20 - you can see the breakdown in the table below.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGIq3NyABI/AAAAAAAAAmY/2qRT6bjL7UQ/DSC_0044.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGIq3NyABI/AAAAAAAAAmY/2qRT6bjL7UQ/DSC_0044.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's how to read it:<br />Kids: 220, 80 boys, 140 girls<br />The columns from left to right are: number of kids in age group, number of kids in each grade of school, reason for being orphaned ( I can't read it), and I don't remember the last one.<br /><br />We then went around and saw the toddlers (who we brought some candy for) and some of the kids getting additional classes at the orphanage. Most of them were actually out at the local school. The kids were amazingly well behaved, taking care of each other and very quiet when we interrupted their class.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGIqeukABI/AAAAAAAAAmI/OHy6tnQuR48/DSC_0039.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGIqeukABI/AAAAAAAAAmI/OHy6tnQuR48/DSC_0039.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I spoke to one of the teachers, a man who himself grew up in an orphanage and is now helping out in this one. During the Vietnam war (they call it the American war) he was a translator for the Americans. Now he teaches English and bible and knows places in Israel from his bible studies.<br /><br /><strong>Wisos for Lunch </strong><br /><br />We then continued on our journey to our next stop, the site of a bloody battle between the Americans and the VC. The sites in Vietnam are, naturally, geared towards the victory of the Vietnamese. This site showed a (quite typical) war memorial showing a soldier, farmer and other shapes all pulling together to defeat the enemy. It also had two American tanks that were captured and then used by the VC. There was nothing much else to see and I know very little of the history of this war, so the whole thing was kind of lost on me. I was more intrigued by the cluster of bees that made their temporary home in the armpit of the farmer.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RUNa0HsKABI/AAAAAAAAAnM/Nci6atYUtaA/DSC_0058.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RUNa0HsKABI/AAAAAAAAAnM/Nci6atYUtaA/DSC_0058.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Our next stop was to be the beginning of the Ho Chi Minh trail. But in order to get to that point, we had to drive through 10km of dirt-and-gravel road. It's fine if you're in a car, but if you're on a motorcycle it just makes you hurt more, plus you really have to go really slow and try to follow the paths created by people who passed there before you. From time to time, in completely unexpected areas, the asphalt road would reappear giving you false hope, only to disappear again within a couple of hundred meters.<br /><br />We reached our destination, the beginning of the trail, a small city along the way. We stopped for lunch there. All through the day my guide has been promising me that they have Wisos there. I'd no idea what Wisos was but I figured it's some kind of local dish. We sat down in the restaurant and when I got up for a second to check my motorcycle, all the local workers who just finished eating came by to take my picture with them.<br /><br />Then the meal arrived. There was the obligatory rice bowl, some vegetables, some small fish done in a bowl, and a plate of what looked like beef. I asked Phu again what this was and he said "Wisos". I said Beef? Pork? He looked disappointedly at me and said "Wisos". "Wisos?" I asked. "Yes, Wisos," he said, "you know, like the one used to make coffee".<br /><br />It is interesting to note that Weasels are not cooked with coffee for flavor.<br /><br /><strong>Ho Chi Minh Trail </strong><br /><br />The <a title="Ho Chi Minh Trail" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ho_Chi_Minh_trail">Ho Chi Minh Trail</a> was a narrow, hidden road hugging the mountains to be hidden from American choppers. It was used by the North Vietnamese to smuggle soldiers and supplies to the south. The Vietnamese government has been building up the trail, now a two lane highway (not really used except for a few villagers along the way) and extending it to mark the trail the northern army took going south to unify Vietnam. The path we traversed, marked with a yellow divider line, spanned 120km. It is probably the best road in Vietnam, both because it's rather new and only a couple of patches needed repair, and because it's virtually empty.<br /><br />For the finale of the fourth day of this trip, we took off on the trail to reach our destination of Phuoc Son by nighttime. Once we passed the villages and hills, we entered the mountains. The scenery was breathtaking, with streams cascading down the mountain in places, forests and mist-shrouded peaks.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RUNOlWtKABI/AAAAAAAAAmo/_ApljzHfJSU/DSC_0067.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RUNOlWtKABI/AAAAAAAAAmo/_ApljzHfJSU/DSC_0067.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The trail climbs up into the mountains then goes back down. At its last stretch, it has 10% incline in places. While I could easily go down the 10% areas, going up 10% proved more of a challenge. While Phu bypassed me and zoomed up, I sat on my trusty 125cc bike and slowly chugged my way up in an I-think-I can-I-think-I-can kind of way.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Day 5 - Phuoc Son to Hoi An– 120 km<br /></strong></span><br />As anticlimax, our last day was rather short. We started early on, riding out bikes down the mountains from Phuoc Son to our final destination, Hoi An. The way down the mountain is infinitely easier, except you have to watch your speed going around curves for all the regular surprises. It was interesting to note that the main type of surprise along the road was cow dung. The highway is the only road that links villages along it to their pasture grounds and so cow herds are moved along it, leaving gifts for the unsuspecting motorist. At the 80 km mark, we got off the highway that is the Ho Chi Minh trail and made a turn into what looked like a side village road. It shows what driving for two days on the trail did to my perception - I did not recognize this as the main road to Hoi An until a few kilometers passed us by. We were driving once more along store fronts, rice paddies and fields, dodging traffic and bypassing swarms of kids on bicycles going to or returning from school. We reached Hoi An around noon where I found me a hotel and Phu went to rent a small truck to carry the two motorcycles back to Dalat.<br /><br /><strong>Driving Lesson #3 - Cutting Across Traffic? Whatever for?</strong><br /><br />I'll share one more piece of wisdom with you, in case you ever find yourself driving a motorcycle here. If you ever need to enter the road and make a left turn, cutting across the traffic going to the right, your basic instinct would be to wait until the lane is clear, then cut across. But you'd be waiting forever for that traffic to clear. There are places where the motorcycles just go on and on and on. If you were to cut across, you'd be blocking a substantial part of the lane, causing a lot of havoc and not really getting where you wanted to.<br /><br />The solution? Drive against traffic. Start your engine and drive left, against everyone that's coming up against you. Start on the left side of the road and slowly edge towards the middle of the road. You're small enough facing traffic head-on that everyone can just move around you. Within 100m or so you'll be on the divider line of the two lanes. From here on, you already know how to join traffic going your way and I won't repeat it. Remember the joke about the drunk driver going against traffic saying everyone else is wrong? Here it's a fact of life.<br /><br />To finish off this motorcycle blog, here's speed limited sign I picked up on one of the roads. Find your vehicle, read your speed, ignore where possible :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGIq5SwABI/AAAAAAAAAmg/FXy4il6B2AY/DSC_0051.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RUGIq5SwABI/AAAAAAAAAmg/FXy4il6B2AY/DSC_0051.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This concludes the Motorcycle blogs. Next wekk more stories from Vietnam.<br /><br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Rubber" rel="tag">Rubber</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Orphanages" rel="tag">Orphanages</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Weasel" rel="tag">Weasel</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Ho+Chi+Minh+Trail" rel="tag">Ho Chi Minh Trail</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Rubber" rel="tag">Rubber</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Orphanages" rel="tag">Orphanages</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Weasel" rel="tag">Weasel</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Ho+Chi+Minh+Trail" rel="tag">Ho Chi Minh Trail</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-47757367836090481412006-10-23T04:00:00.000-07:002006-11-12T21:47:32.354-08:00<span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >The Motorcycle Blogs II</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/MeOnMotorcycle.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/200/MeOnMotorcycle.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Day 1 Continues - Dalat to Lak Lake – 160 km</span><br /><br />Note: Some of the pictures in this blog are actually videos. They should have a play button at the bottom of the picture. Try it out.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />First the Worm Turns into a Cocoon, Then You Kill It</span><br /><br />We next stopped in a silk factory. Mulberry trees are abundant in the area and the farmers grow silk worms on them and bring them in for processing once they turn into cocoons. For those who've not seen silk worms in the past, the cycle is roughly like this. Start with an egg, the size of a poppy seed (you'll never look at a bun the same again, will you?). The egg hatches and a small worm starts eating its way through mulberry tree leaves. As the worm grows, it reaches 1.5-2 inches (5 cm) in length. Once done growing, the worm weaves a cocoons around itself and goes into a stage of metamorphosis. When I was young, I had a few wilk worms at home in a cardboard box on the refrigerator. Since we did not process the silk, we got to see what happens next. The cocoon hatches when the butterfly inside eats its way through the cocoon's end, destroying the thread in the process. It's a white, flightless butterfly that lays eggs and dies and the cycle begins again.<br /><br />At the factory, they don't wait for the cocoons to hatch. Cocoons are brought from all over the area and collected in these big baskets.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/SilkCocoons.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/SilkCocoons.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then they are put into boiling water and "cooked" until the butterworm inside dies. The cocoons then float in the water while one of these factory workers tries to find the thread and feed it into the machine to unravel and put on a spool.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/SilkWorkerSiftingCocoons.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/SilkWorkerSiftingCocoons.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The ones that can't be automatically unraveled are processed manually to produce stronger but less fine silk. What's left, dead butterworms, is collected in these baskets.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/LeftoverCocoons.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/LeftoverCocoons.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Since nothing goes to waste, maybe they feed it to the drunk pigs?<br />The thread is then collected in bigger spools. Some of it is sold as thread and some woven into fabric in a loom inside the factory.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/CollectedSilk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/CollectedSilk.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/SilkLoom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/SilkLoom.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Driving Lesson #1 - The Horn The Horn, it Sounds So Forlorn</span><br /><br />There are a number of switches you've got to make in your mind before successfully surviving driving in Vietnam. The first one is the use of the horn. In most western countries, the horn is used for 1) notifying of extreme danger, making you react quickly or 2) marking the end of a new-york second, the light has changed to green and why haven't you already started moving?<br /><br />Its use in Vietnam (and as far as I recall in India too) is very different. First of all, it's not used as an emergency tool. The horn is used to notify someone of your presence. If you're driving behind them, you're responsible to move and accommodate them whatever they do. If you decide to pass them, you're likely to sound the horn to let them know you're coming. This is more common in the cities since there's less traffic to worry about when passing someone in the country side. A similar use is for cars and trucks to notify everyone that they're coming through and everyone had better MOVE or else bad things will happen. Again - this is not a sign of "emergency". More like "danger, danger Will Robinson" you'd better do something to accommodate it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lak Lake</span><br /><br />On the first night, we stayed in a town on the shores of Lak Lake. The lake itself is very serene, still water with islands, fish traps and fisherman paddling around in dug out canoes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/KidStandingInCanoe2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/KidStandingInCanoe2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Once we checked into the hotel, we drove on to the Jun village, a minority village where the M'Nong people live. M'Nong houses are long houses built on stilts. The extended family and all possesions live inside. Animals and livestock live under the house. The original houses were made of wood, though you could see a television set through the open doorway. The M'Nong grow rice, like most other people near large bodies of water. They also fish the lake extensively.<br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cock Fighting</span><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Another part of village life is animals in the street. On our way to the Jun village we came upon these two roosters fighting it out. In case you have never seen it, here's a short clip:<br /></p><embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=6275669942962815698&hl=en"></embed><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">DAY 2- Lak Lake to Buon Ma Thuot – 105 km</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jimmy my Ride</span><br /><br />We returned to the village the next morning. We had breakfast at the same “restaurant” as we had dinner. I asked for Pho, the vietnamese noodle soup that is part of the breakfat ritual. Apparently I surprised the propietor, who was expecting me to ask for an omelet. They only had instant-noodle. I was very disappointed. Instant noodles with powdered taste as part of ethnic food in Vietnam?<br /><br />Then Jimmy gave me a ride. Allow me to introduce Jimmy. Jimmy is not his real name but I couldn’t pronounce, much less spell, his real name so Jimmy it’ll have to be.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/JimmyMyRide.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/JimmyMyRide.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The M’Nong are famous for catching and rearing elephants. Jimmy was busy with breakfast too when we arrived, eating corn husks. Once he finished, I used the platform to climb up onto the box on Jimmy’s back. We started with a slow amble around the village. Jimmy’s driver was sitting on his neck, between the head and the body. He was driving Jimmy by pushing on his big ears with his feet. Anyone who’s ever held a child on their shoulders will probably know how that works :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/MeOnElephant.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/MeOnElephant.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />An elephant is not a smooth ride. With every step I was shifted a few inches left or right with my whole world tilting this way or that depending which foot Jimmy had in the air at the time. But apparently Jimmy is good for much more than walking on land. As we approached the water’s edge, Jimmy’s driver did not slow down. He kept us moving onwards. Jimmy approached the water, and step by slow step while checking the firmness of the ground with his snout, walked right in. He was up to his stomach in water, but we were safe and dry on his back, walking in the lake.<br /><br /><embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=3315750700573557489&hl=en"></embed><br /><br /><br />As we circumnavigated the village, we saw the local lake traffic go by, mostly fishermen in dugout canoes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/DugOutCanoe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/DugOutCanoe.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The ride was more than 30 mintes long and my legs were getting cramped from the sitting position. We eventually climbed back up onto land, and walked back to the village from its other side. From time to time Jimmy would stop walking and start turning aside and the driver would have to intervene. It took me a while to figure out he was smelling food – there was a fire burning dried-out corn husks on the side of the road – and Jimmy simply wanted a taste.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">That Classic Vietnam Picture</span><br /><br />We then jumped on our motorcycles and left the area, on to our second day of travel. Leaving Lak Lake, we saw a lot fo rice fields. I had an opportunity to take one of those classic photos you see on postcards and in books.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/WorkersInRicePaddies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/WorkersInRicePaddies.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Our trip that day was relatively short, only 45km. On the second day of travel, my ass was really letting me know it feels the pain. In Buon Ma Thuot, we checked into a hotel, then went to have lunch. The food, called “Fried Pork” is really a roll-your-own-egroll. Rice paper (that really looks like paper – thin and brittle) is used for the outside. We added everything travelers should be worried about eating in foreign countries where the water is not to be trusted – lettuce leaves, green onion, etc, then some fried pork and fried rice paper. Once you roll the eggrol, you dip it into a special bowl of dipping sauce. As Phu (my guide) explained, all restaurants have pork and lettuce and rice paper. It’s the sauce that makes the place.<br /><br />The thing I didn’t touch was a piece of raw pork meat that wrapped in a leave and left there for customers. Somehow, I don’t think the weather is all that suitable for natural preservation. It’s not like there’s snow on the window seals. My stomach is not that brave.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Driving Lesson #2 – Look left? Look right? Look?</span><br /><br />We then proceeded to take a round trip to the Smoky Falls, picture below. Nothing special to tell about the trip except it was another 70km though the road was ok.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/SmokyWaterfall.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/SmokyWaterfall.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I used the time to observe some more of the unwritten driving laws of Vietnam. So you’re a motorcycle entering the endless stream of motorcycles driving down the stream of life that’s Vietnamese traffic. How do you do so?<br /><br />1. If you’re approaching from another road, no problem. Simply start turning as you approach the new road. By the time you’ll reach it you’ll be almost parallel with traffic and people will swerve to give you some space. No need to check if the road is busy – after all, it always is.<br />2. You’re coming down from a sidewalk and there’s no space for you to align your motorcycle with the traffic? No problem! Just exit directly into the street perpendicular to traffic. You then have a second or so to realign yourself. Looking left and right? What for? There’s ALWAYS someone there so what’s the point? If you’ve been here long enough you know that a) cars travel in the middle of the road and honk when they arrive so you won’t hit one of those and b) motorcycles will swerve to give you space.<br /><br />It was absolutely amazing to see how the Vietnamese pack their kids on the bike, then enter the road without checking for traffic first. I also almost hit one of these guys on the next-to-last day of the trip. This was an empty stretch of road so I was driving faster than usual when he just walked his motorcycle onto the road and blocked half the lane. I breaked in time, but was actually supposed to go around him had I been following the rules of the road.<br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">P<span>l</span></span></span><span><span><span>op Goes the Weasel<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>Buon Ma Thuot is the center of coffee production in the Vietnam. Coffee is grown all over the mountains and brought to BMT for selling. The first stages of processing actually happens at the villages, in individual homes.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>There are multiple coffee plantations like this coffee mountain.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/CoffeeMountain.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/CoffeeMountain.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>Once the coffee is ready (when the beans are red), they are picked and dried up on mats outside the homes. The beans are then sifted for quality. There are three types of coffee beans grown in Vietnam and mixing them up is the art of creating good coffee.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/CoffeeSifting2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/CoffeeSifting2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>The Vietnamese drink their coffee very strong, by taking ground beans and putting them onto a drip basket on top of the cup. Hot water is added and slowly drips through the coffee into the cup. Vietnam also export a lot of the coffee and is the 4<sup>th</sup> largest coffee exporter in the world.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>What’s that weasel got to do with it you ask? Well, now we come to the most bizarre form of coffee making I’ve ever heard of. The priciest coffee (we’re talking 4x the cost of regular high quality coffee) is called weasel coffee. The process of making it is very similar to regular coffee, with one main difference. Instead of the beans being collected by people, weasels (yes, real weasels) are set loose among the beans to eat to their heart’s content. The beans travel through the weasel’s intenstines with the soft outer shell fruit being digested while the hard beans at the core are infused with a stronger, better aroma. Nature then takes it course and the weasel goes plop, at which point the villagers collect the beans and proceed with regular processing.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span>I shudder to think how this process was invented or why someone experimented with it. In any case, the coffee is highly prized and sold only in specialized stores. I couldn’t find a restaurant that serves it as a drink so I can’t tell you what the taste is like, but I did manage to buy some ground coffee. We’ll see how brave you are when I get back.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/TheMotorcycle.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/200/TheMotorcycle.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>And with <span style="font-weight: bold;">plop </span>goes the weasel <span style=""> </span>I’ll conclude day 2 of, The Motorcycle Blogs.<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Silk" rel="tag">Silk</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Silk+Worms" rel="tag">Silk Worms</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Coffee" rel="tag">Coffee</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Weasel+Coffee" rel="tag">Weasel Coffee</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Motorcycle" rel="tag">Motorcycle</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Elephants" rel="tag">Elephants</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span><br /><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Silk" rel="tag">Silk</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Silk+Worms" rel="tag">Silk Worms</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Coffee" rel="tag">Coffee</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Weasel+Coffee" rel="tag">Weasel Coffee</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Motorcycle" rel="tag">Motorcycle</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Elephants" rel="tag">Elephants</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span><br /></span><b><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></b></span><span class="tagspaces"><a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag"></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-64196471101889366282006-10-17T04:03:00.000-07:002006-11-12T21:41:23.892-08:00<span style="font-size:180%;">The Motorcycle Blogs<br /></span>Oct 13-17<br /><br />It seems oddly appropriate to reference <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0318462/">The Motorcycle Diaries</a> since I'm riding in a communist country. Regardless of Che's politics, the movie is a great travel story.<br /><br />It seems that the "blogger in beta" site I was using is inaccessible from most of Vietnam. Since I can't login, I can't post the entry I had waiting. Using this temporary blog then, fast forward to.... <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Motorcycle Blogs</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RTJUOP4ZABI/AAAAAAAAAjI/muZyUV6zJL8/MeOnMotorcycle.JPG?imgmax=512"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RTJUOP4ZABI/AAAAAAAAAjI/muZyUV6zJL8/MeOnMotorcycle.JPG?imgmax=512" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Dalat is a center for internal tourism in Vietnam. The tour guides tout it as "the most beautiful city in Asia". Personally I saw nothing much to justify this. It's considered a romantic city and many honeymooners come here. The main attraction seems to be the cool weather since it's 1000 meters (3000 feet) above sea level. The French had fancy houses here when they were in Vietnam and there's a small scale Eiffel tower (though I'm not sure how old it is). Now it's a growing university town since the climate makes it easy to study, and also a center for fruit and vegetable production in Vietnam.<br /><br />My main reason for coming here was the small note in the Hitch-hiker's guide to the galaxy, eh, the Lonely Planet guide about the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easy_rider">Easy Riders</a> of Dalat. Researching it for this blog, I noticed the number of meaning the term had over the years. I'm using it strictly in the motorcycle-riding meaning.<br /><br />Easy Riders is the term a group of motorcycle riders in Dalat give themselves, though the motorcycles they ride are not Harley-Davidsons and none is more than 125cc. Apparently the law has strict guidelines on who can ride a motorcycle bigger than 150cc. The riders give tours of Dalat and the area to tourists, taking the tourists on the back of the motorcycle. Given my weight and the tiny tiny engine of the motorcycle, I quickly dissuaded the guide I found from this notion, getting him instead to let me drive his bike while he accompanied me on a smaller one. The bike, an old Honda, spit and sputtered its way through the hills of Dalat and the area carrying us to a number of Pagodas, some coffee plantations and vegetable fields and to the historical train station showing the very old coal-run engine and the still-working-for-tourists Russian engine.<br /><br />The first of two interesting attractions was Crazy House. Crazy House is a hotel built by an architect who's the daughter of Ho Chi Minh's successor's to the presidency of Vietnam. The place is a bizarre, tacky, concrete construction of Alice in Wonderland style yard and rooms. Tourists can come by and see the rooms unless someone is sleeping in them at the time. Here's the yard.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/DSC_0005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/DSC_0005.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And a few of the rooms.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/DSC_0009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/DSC_0009.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/DSC_0012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/DSC_0012.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/DSC_0015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/DSC_0015.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The other attraction, for lack of a better name, is amusement waterfall. The waterfall itself is nothing to blog home about. Access to it required a long climb down, which of course meant a lot of steps coming back up. The local tourist industry put a stop to that with the construction of a brand new amusement ride - a cart you can take to go down the all the way to the waterfall.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/DSC_0055.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/DSC_0055.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />On the way down, you control your speed using breaks on the side of the cart. This is completely gravity powered. Once you're done seeing the waterfall, you can take the cart back up - it gets pulled by a motorized cable.<br /><br />These two guys wanted to get my picture with them. I insisted to get their picture with me right back.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/DSC_0060.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/DSC_0060.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />But the day trip around Dalat was not what I came for. What I wanted was a longer trip through the central mountains of Vietnam. I changed my tour guide for the following day (or rather I changed bikes to a more comfortable one and the guide came with the bike) and we set out on a 5 day tour through the western highlands of Vietnam, from Dalat to Hoi An.<br /><br /><strong>Day 1 - Dalat to Lak Lake</strong><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/TheMotorcycle.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/200/TheMotorcycle.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>The bike, a 10-year-old 125cc Daelim, seems oddly similar to the 500cc Kawasaki I used to ride. The only difference is, alas, the engine. But this bike seems to manage well enough. The roads are generally good, though from time to time the asphalt disappears and you're left with mud you should carefully navigate or find a place where you should skirt the road to bypass some obstruction.<br /><br />Riding a motorcycle here is like playing a video game. The road twist and turns, meandering through the mountains. Behind every turn is a potential road hazard - another motorcycle, a person walking in the street, or a cow herd coming up the road disregarding any traffic lane conventions. All of these will try to move aside if you see them in time and honk, or at least will let you pass by. More interesting are the surprise hazards - that piglet running into the road being chased by a dog or the chicken trying to cross it. I don't know why but many chickens do.<br /><br />From time to time you'll get the big one - that oblivious oncoming truck. You'd better move quickly to the side of the road since trucks travel in the center... Points are awarded for safe passage. You only get one life :)<br /><br />On the other hand, the speed is not great. On that first day, we averaged 30 km/hr (20 mph). About 40 kmh when going downhill or horizontally outside villages, and about 20 kmh when going uphill despite the bike's valiant effort to go faster.<br /><br />We're driving through the mountains, a land of minorities (the Montagnards) intermixed with the Vietnamese majority. This is also a place where a (relatively) small number of foreigners travel. Since I'm still somewhat of a novelty to the locals even if they've seen foreigners before, I'm creating a sensation as I pass through the country side. In my wake I keep hearing the sound of laughing and yelling children and the sounds of surprised adults, mixed in with the "hello"s of the kids who see me early enough to wave before I pass. If this was a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/search-handle-url/index=books&field-author-exact=Gabriel%20Garcia%20Marquez&rank=-relevance,+availability,-daterank/102-2681888-3456155">Gabriel Garcia Marquez</a> book, this would be known as the year when the giant rode through town bringing laughter to all the kids.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/KidMagnet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/KidMagnet.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As we progressed into the mountains, my ass was reminded more and more that it's been years since I seriously rode a motorcycle and that you need to develop an immunity in certain parts of your behind to sustain a long ride. We did 150 km that first days, about 5-6 hours of riding and even with the stops I was getting seriously soar. We stopped and bought a pillow to make the motorcycle feel more like a throne but still, there's only so much I could take.<br /><br />A couple of hours before we reached our final destination for that day, the sky opened up and rain fell down on us. For those of you who've not experienced riding a motorcycle through the rain let me note that you're essentially a rain collector. It matters not how much rain is falling down. You drive through it at a speed that's usually faster than the speed it's falling at. Your become very wet very fast and the only remedy is to stop somewhere until it passes, an unknown amount of time, or to cover yourself up. I had a rain parka with me, though it didn't cover my hands and only covered the upper half of my body. The predictable results were two very wet feet, though I dried up very quickly once the rain let up.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/DSCN0023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/DSCN0023.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As you travel, you breeze through the air, getting a very cool feeling regardless of the temperature. It was pretty cool when we started and due to the wind stayed relatively cool until our final stop. What you don't notice is that the Sun is baking your arms as you go. By the time we got to the hotel, my arms were red and starting to ache. From the 2nd day on, I used heavy portions of sunscreen since I didn't have any long sleeved shirts with me.<br /><br /><embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=712624191973520033&hl=en"></embed><br /> <br /><br /><strong>Take Some Rice, Add Some Bacteria, Let Rot</strong><br /><br />We stopped along the way to see a number of things, the first of which was how to make rice wine. We descended into the basement of one of the houses along the road. In it were covered jars which my guide opened up to show me the steamed rice and yoghurt being fermented.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/MakingRiceWine.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/MakingRiceWine.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After 3 weeks of fermentation, the contents is moved to a distillery and boiled to capture the alcoholic beverage. What's left is fed to the pigs, slumbering drunkenly in the pens right nearby. You can see the back of one in the photo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/1600/RiceWineDistillery.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3974/4037/400/RiceWineDistillery.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Enough forone blog entry.Tune in next week for the continuation of - <strong>The Motorcycle Blogs</strong>.<br /><br />As a side note, to see the video from the previous post, try: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3998519557030018396&hl=en<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"><b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Easy+Rider" rel="tag">Easy Rider</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Motorcycle" rel="tag">Motorcycle</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Che+Guevara" rel="tag">Che Guevara</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/The+Motorcycle+Diaries" rel="tag">The Motorcycle Diaries</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Rice+Wine" rel="tag">Rice Wine</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Easy+Rider" rel="tag">Easy Rider</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Motorcycle" rel="tag">Motorcycle</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Che+Guevara" rel="tag">Che Guevara</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/The+Motorcycle+Diaries" rel="tag">The Motorcycle Diaries</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Rice+Wine" rel="tag">Rice Wine</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-4121284360696954622006-10-12T05:23:00.000-07:002006-11-19T00:32:53.830-08:00<span style="font-size:180%;">Starting out in Vietnam.</span><br />Oct 9-10<br /><br /><strong>In the beginning...</strong><br /><br />I'm starting a long (5 weeks) in Vietnam and Cambodia. I'm still thinking about whether to post these blog entries in real time or whether to space them out. If stories start accumulating then I'll be hitting you with too much to read every couple of days - something no one has time for in this busy age.<br /><br />I'm now in Ho Chi Minh City, better known as Saigon. I'm still trying to figure out the place, a mix of Asian and modern though it seems modern is winning out in most places. I've spent the first day in jet lag daze, walking a bit around, but mostly napping.<br /><br /><div><div><strong>A school of motorcyclists</strong><br /><br />The first thing to learn in Saigon is how traffic behaves and what part you play in it. Coming by taxi from the airport you get your first glimpse of Saigon moving around you. There are a lot of motorized vehicles, though the number of bicycles is not negligible. Some people are dressed in western clothes, while some wear the canonical hats (supposedly women's hats) on their heads.<br /><br />Once you start walking around, you get a slightly changed view of the city. 90% of the traffic around you is made up of motorcycles, mopeds or bicycles. The cars are either trucks ferrying goods, or taxis. It's a bit misleading since a lot of the motorcycles are also taxis - they'll let you sit behind them and hug them while they take you where you want to go. They are called, not surprisingly, is "hug me" in Vietnamese.<br /><br />See for yourself - this is an intersection right when the light turns green:<br /><br /><embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-2445120326412622367&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed><br /><br />Now for a lesson in crossing the street. You saw all those motorcycles? In an intersection they sometimes behave themselves but often enough you need to cross elsewhere. I found the "how to cross the street" tip in Lonely Planet: Don't run! Start walking slowly across the street. Keep watching the cyclists to see if they are going behind or before you, but you'll notice that they shift to accommodate you!<br /><br />The amazing thing is that this is true for any kind of vehicle. The taxi from the airport wanted to do a U turn. At first he went all the way to the right as if he was parking, letting all the traffic flow around him. Then he slowly started edging into the street, turning the wheel to reach the center divide. As he did this, traffic behind us shifted to move to the left of him. Since he was turning, the back of the car was still blocking most of the right-side lane, so traffic couldn't go there. That didn't stop them - they just kept going around him until they were traveling down the other side of the road. Eventually they managed to go on his right and he could complete the turn, doing the same to the traffic from the other side.<br /><br />And here's when you find out drivers here do it differently than you do. As anyone edges into the street, western drivers would stop so as not to hit him, but not swerve since they might hit the person on their right or left. Here, they shift a bit and amazingly enough the entire block shifts with them. It's like watching a school of fish change direction without anyone formally coordinating the maneuver.<br /><br /><strong>The curse of the Buddha</strong><br /><br />With my paranoia greatly enhanced from my lens disappearing in Saint Petersburg, I was very cautious walking around Saigon. I took it out carefully, locked the bag and kept my hand on the lens at all times, having it hanging in front so that I can see it.</div><div></div><br /><div>And paranoia rewards itself - everywhere I went, people looked at me and talked amongst themselves. In Peru I once caught a guy pointing me out to his friend to steal something from my bag. This was much worse. Almost everywhere I looked someone was looking at me. There I was, the rich tourist with the expensive camera just waiting to be milked.</div><div></div><br /><div>After a while, when nothing happened, I tuned my paranoia down a bit and started rethinking what I've been seeing. As it turns out, while I was walking around gawking at Vietnam, Vietnam was gawking at me. They've not seen anyone like me. It's not the skin color or facial features which they think is from America (I guess no Indians come here). It's my size! There don't seem to be any fat people around here and definitely not as big as me.</div><br /><div>On the other hand, I do remind them of the happy Buddha. While Buddhism teaches to not want things (achieving nirvana when you've reached the level of not wanting anything in the world), there are other secondary Buddha figures. One of the more prevalent is the happy Buddha who's statue can be seen anywhere sitting down with his big stomach sticking out. Rubbing it is supposed to bring good luck. It seems the Vietnamese think the same about mine. Random people in the street reach out to touch it. This definitely doesn't fit with the American version of personal space. I wonder if it should be considered more of a sexual harassment or religious persecution :)</div><br /><div>On the other hand, I've already had quite a number of pictures taking with me and have a great conversation starter!</div><br /><div></div><div>To give you an example, this girl who barely spoke English brought this kid by to touch me (only my hand, thank god). She came back later to have him see me again but also touch me herself, just in case...</div><br /><br /><div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RS4uKgRDABI/AAAAAAAAAgc/kRZPSvHDEXY/s288/DSC_0067.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><br /><p></p><p>While there are a lot of internet cafes in Vietnam, finding ones that have a enough memory on the PC to allow some photo editing is not easy. I'll start a serious album next time I stop in a big city with the right PCs and network connection. Until then, you'll have to suffer with the photos and movie above.</p><p><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Saigon" rel="tag">Saigon</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Buddha" rel="tag">Buddha</a></span><br/><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Vietnam" rel="tag">Vietnam</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Saigon" rel="tag">Saigon</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Buddha" rel="tag">Buddha</a></span></p>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-44269804689234496292006-10-01T19:34:00.001-07:002006-10-01T19:34:51.360-07:00<span style="font-size:180%;">Le Mont St. Michel<br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Sep 26-28</span><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/LeMontSaintMichelle.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/LeMontSaintMichelle.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />(From where I was sitting, a tree was hiding the bottom of the mount so you don't get to see the massive walls of Mont St. Michel)<br /></div><br />The only thing worse then being stuck in the picturesque French country side without a camera is being stuck there with a camera but no lens. At least relatively speaking. I'm sure there are worse things but I can't think of any just now. As other so clearly commented on my previous entry, I had to find a solution.<br /><br />A <a href="http://www.argonauta.com/html/holga_cameras.htm">Holga</a> is a cheap ($15) plastic camera favored by photographers and photography students for the "artistic" pictures it can create. Artistic here means under or over exposed, out of focus pictures. In fact, the camera is so bad that the first thing you have to do once you buy it is to use some opaque piece of tape to close the light-leaks the camera comes pre-configured with. If you don't, your pictures will have look like that drawing in the museum that's all black and everyone tries to understand what it stands for and why someone paid so much money for it. Except your pictures will be all white.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/10-01-06_0831.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/200/10-01-06_0831.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I don't have a Holga nor a way to process the 120mm film it shoots. But I did come up with the digital equivalent of a Holga. Introducing the Motorola V3 RAZR- the poor man's digital Holga camera, hereby dubbed HLGA. It does not need any leak-closing, no special film but the pictures are still guaranteed to be a bit out of focus, lacking in contrast and generally low resolution.<br /><br />As the saying goes, it's the photographer, not the camera, right? RIGHT?<br /><br /><br />I joined a few colleagues at a conference in Le Mont St. Michel (mountain of archangel Michael). The mont is <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=le+mont+saint+michel,+france&ie=UTF8&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;z=7&ll=49.453843,-2.186279&spn=2.899675,11.074219&om=1">located</a> on the French coast of the British Channel. We approached it by taxi from the train station, an excellent way to come face to face with this great place. I sat up front with my HLGA, hoping to get a good glimpse.<br /><br />Imagine a plain. All around you are fields or grasslands with nothing rising higher then the trees. As the taxi approaches the nearest town, suddenly a tower looms up behind it. From far away, it just looks like another building or church tower. Then you pass the town and the full mount becomes visible.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/09-25-06_0843.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/09-25-06_0843.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Le Mont St. Michel is a rock sticking up out of the plain, right where a river flows into the sea. Archangel Michael showed himself to a local clergy man and told him to build a house for god on that spot. What emerged is a place that could easily fit into the next Lord of the Rings movie - <span style="font-style: italic;">The Other Tower We Forgot In The First 3</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Movies</span>. The top of the mount is dominated by the monastery, with a spire going up to heaven. At the top of the spire stands Archangel Michael. The bottom of the mount is covered by inns, hotels and restaurants, originally catering to pilgrims and now to the many tourists that come by. A wall with guard posts and cannons surrounds the mount.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/09-25-06_0845.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/09-25-06_0845.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This is the gate. Notice the portcullis that can easily be dropped to close the entrance. Notice also the open drawbridge. What you don't see is the iron gate behind the doorway that can be shut on an advancing army. Seems like a lot of wars were fought around this spot.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/09-26-06_1111.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/09-26-06_1111.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />To add to the feeling of this medieval place, the tide rushes in twice a day and completely surrounds the mount, except for the higher-built access road. Even the parking lots next to the mount get flooded by the tide and are cleaned by a special road-washing machine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/09-26-06_2327.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/09-26-06_2327.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>There are very few horizontal areas on the mount. Since I registered late for the conference, I did not have a room at the conference hotel off the mount and had to stay on it. The entrance to the hotel is at ground level, but then I got my key and was told "go up two floors, make a left and exit the door, then go to the next building over and your room is there".<br /><br />To translate:<br /><ul><li>"Go up two floors" means 2-3 floors worth of spiraling stairs.</li><li>"Make a left" means another half a floor up to the door.<br /></li><li>"go to the next building" means a climb down of a few stairs, but don't worry, you'll pay for that when you get back.</li><li>"Your room is there" means two floors up in that building.</li></ul>The view from the room was very nice. It faces back towards land and you can see the buildings of the mount and the road leading out. This is the view through the morning fog.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/09-26-06_2245.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/09-26-06_2245.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />At night, we went looking for a place to eat. The main road climbs up around the mount and is littered with restaurants and stores. We debated between two restaurants, "the white lamb" and chef something-or-other's seafood bistro. The two stood next to one another, though at a different levels since the road kept climbing. After much debate, we entered the bottom one, the white lamb. We were told to go a floor up to the sitting area, then were told to go across to the other sitting area (at which point we found ourselves at the ground floor of the fish restaurant) and then were told to go one more floor up for the real sitting area. A very nice trick! You have two store fronts, one for meat lovers and one promising great fish. People can debate what they'd like to sit, but then end up in the exact same place. The power of "choice" :)<br /><br />A lot of the restaurants and at least one hotel on the mount had the name "Poulard" in them. Mrs. Poulard opened a pilgrim's hotel on the mount in 1888 and went on to create a celebrated kitchen and many recipes. Her husband stocked a celebrated wine cellar. One of La Mere Poulard's (the chef Poulard) famous dishes was the Poulard omelet she created for hungry wayferers. While I'm not a fan of eggs, I inspected it when it was served to me in one of the formal dinners there. The omelet is fluffy, having been mixed by hand for a long time until it had a lot of air bubbles in it. I believe the main reason La Mere created this omelet was because she could sell it for more while using less eggs. I'm sure I've offended quite a few French people who worshipped Mrs. Poulard so just like to say that, once again, that's a genius marketing move!<br /><br />Courtesy of Thierry, here's a better shot of the mont taken with a HLGA II - the swiss army knife of PDAs, the PDA come music player come game console come camera, the Palm Zire.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/tiersy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/400/tiersy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>For more information on the mount, see the Wikipedia entry for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_Mont_Saint_Michel">Mont St. Michel</a>.<br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Le+Mont+St.+Michel" rel="tag">Le Mont St. Michel</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/St.+Michel" rel="tag">St. Michel</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/France" rel="tag">France</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Holga" rel="tag">Holga</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Motorola+RAZR" rel="tag">Motorola RAZR</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Palm+Zire" rel="tag">Palm Zire</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Le+Mont+St.+Michel" rel="tag">Le Mont St. Michel</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/St.+Michel" rel="tag">St. Michel</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/France" rel="tag">France</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Holga" rel="tag">Holga</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Motorola+RAZR" rel="tag">Motorola RAZR</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Palm+Zire" rel="tag">Palm Zire</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-17162040210908898592006-09-23T11:47:00.000-07:002006-09-23T11:48:55.567-07:00<span style="font-size:180%;">New Year’s in St. Pete’s</span><br /> <p class="MsoNormal">Sep 18-24<br /><br />This time I made it to Russia. Only 3 months late for the <a href="http://erantravels.blogspot.com/2006/07/russian-wedding-saint-petersburg.html">wedding</a>, but I got to Saint Pete's and was able to deliver the wedding gift that's been waiting in my luggage since the last time.</p><p class="MsoNormal">New passport, new visa, and the immigration officials at the border didn't ask me anything. Just looked at my papers and stamped them.<br /><br />The most intense experience of the whole trip was watching “<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0437800/">Akeelah and the Bee</a>”. For those of you who haven't seen it, it's a Starbucks Media inspirational movie about a little girl that goes to a spelling bee. If you still plan to see it, skip this next section.<br /><br /><b>Begin <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spoiler_%28media%29">spoiler</a> section<o:p></o:p></b><br /><br />I caught glimpses of the movie during the flight. Glimpses in the literal sense, since my headphones were actually connected to my iPod, playing something completely different. I was also reading a book so only raised my head to see the movie from time to time.<br /><br />The amazing things is that I’m pretty sure I got most of the plot anyway just by watching facial expressions and animated discussions once in a while. Here’s my version of it:</p><ul><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">Akkelah has stage fear.</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">At the beginning of the movie, the only white character in the movie encourages her to compete (the rest of the characters are mostly African-American.) I don’t know if that’s important or not, though I’d have marked this guy as her agent were she an actress. As it is, he was probably her teacher.</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">Her mom is against her competing. Probably afraid of what will happen if she fails. She comes from the over-protect-your-child school.</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">She continues to compete, and despite running out in the middle of a few spelling bees, she seems to advance to the next level every time.</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">Somewhere along the way she picks up a father-figure guru in the shape of a bearded Samuel L. Jackson</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">At the final spelling bee, she starts with about 50 other kids. The losers are winnowed out during the competition.</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">During a break, she spies another competitor kid’s father strongly admonishing the kid about how important winning is and that he mustn’t lose and that he has to be the best. I got all this from the stern finger shaking the father did. Both father and son were Asian-American. I would have called this stereotyping, but then I was only glimpsing the movie. He might simply have been telling the kid that his mom would have been proud of him no matter what, that he should have fun, and that dad loves him despite the frozen somber expression on dad’s face. He might have been drying his wet finger by moving it quickly up and down or chasing away a very single-minded fly.<br /></span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">Of course later in the competition, when the kid stumbles a little and almost misses a word, dad gets up and says something out loud and all the parents look at him with a “what are you doing to your kid, this is america, life choices, etc.” kind of look and he sits down in shame.</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">Akeelah gets over her stage fright by remembering how she practiced the word she needs to spell while rope-jumping. A bit of fake rope jumping on stage kicks-in her contextual memory and she gets through the rough spots. She also has some flashbacks to discussions with the guru.</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">Meanwhile the Asian-American kid, despite dad’s strict disapproving glance, manages to stick in the contest until all the other kids except Akeelah are gone.</span></li><li><!--[if !supportLists]--><!--[endif]--><span dir="ltr" style="font-size:100%;">In order to not offend any minority portrayed in the film, both Akkela and the Asian kid win the competition. They share the trophy. I guess only <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075148/">Rocky</a> can lose and still be inspirational.</span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal">Now here’s my main question: Why oh why, if this movie is supposed to inspire, does Akeelah only smile during the last act. Throughout the movie, whenever I’d raised my head to take a peek, she had a sour expression on, her mouth was turned down, she was crying or running away from the crowd. How inspirational is that? Do I have to win in order to smile? I don’t get it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>End spoilers section<o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Saint Petersburg</st1:place></st1:city> in the fall has a capricious weather. It can turn hot or cold, sunny, foggy or rainy on a whim. I got lucky – it was mostly sunny, though a bit foggy on the weekend.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/VitalyApple.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/200/VitalyApple.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/EranApple.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/200/EranApple.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Friday night was Jewish New Year’s. This is one of the high holidays for Jews, usually celebrated in an elaborate family meal with a bunch of special dishes and prayers. Since I was out Firday night with some friends and colleagues from Sun, I decided to get a mini-ceremony going. While<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/1600/DashaApple.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/6189/1864/200/DashaApple.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> sitting in a Japanese restaurant, I pulled out a jar of honey and a few apples, cut the apples up and had everyone pick a slice and dip it in honey. I told them all they're my adopted family for tonight, then explained the tradition of welcoming the new year with a prayer for a sweet new year and we all dug in. I’m sure the waiters were almost as surprised as my non-Jewish friends. I caugt Dasha and Vitaly humoring me and my strange customs.Saturday morning one of my friends picked me up and we went to tour the city a bit. We started with a church tour, went into the famous colorful church, the name of which I can never remember, then kept walking onto Nevsky Prospect, the main street of Saint Petersburg.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RRWDk_lzABI/AAAAAAAAAeI/N34GYFGbOZ8/DSC_0088.JPG?imgmax=640"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RRWDk_lzABI/AAAAAAAAAeI/N34GYFGbOZ8/DSC_0088.JPG?imgmax=640" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are more photos of the inside of this and another church in the following album:</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/SaintPetersburg"><img src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RRWB0NagABE/AAAAAAAAAfE/gNHwkD_GTwo/SaintPetersburg.jpg?imgmax=160&crop=1" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/SaintPetersburg"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Saint Petersburg</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);">Sep 23, 2006 - 13 Photos</div></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">At that point, we decided to stop for a drink in one of the local cafes. One of the things I learned during my army service was how to carry something that you don’t want snatched away from you. In the army, that’s the gun. If it’s hanging from your shoulder, it’s very easy to snatch away. Either walk with it hanging from your neck where you can see it, or wear it over your neck and under your arm, that way no one can simply pull it off. And it works! My camera was still there when I took it off to sit down at the restaurant. The only missing thing was the lens.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some enterprising dealer in used photographic equipment managed to twist it off the camera and spirit it away. I’ve been hunting for this lens for over 4 months. Eventually I bought it on eBay since Nikon is just not able to create them at the speed the market wants to buy them. It was barely 4 weeks old. I can tell you it’s very sad to walk around with a very capable camera that can’t see a thing!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But remembering Rocky (I don’t think Akeelah’s sulks will do me much good), I decided this was good training for my upcoming <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region> trip. I’ll be there for a month and will need to watch my stuff well. If I lose my camera on that trip - no photos for the rest of it. For now, I just ordered a new lens (off eBay, again; at a premium, again), and hopefully it will wait for me by the time I’m back from this trip.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My main regret? Next week I’m in a conference at Mt. Saint Michele on the beautiful French coast and I will not be able to take any pictures of it. Oh well – I guess I’ll have to work there after all.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And finally: for those of you who celebrate it now, have a happy, sweet new year! May all your wishes come true (except the ones that go against mine) and may you live long and thrive (which is Kaiser Permanente’s way of plagiarizing Star Trek’s “live long and prosper”)! For those of you who don’t, my wishes still go with you.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Eran, <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Saint Petersburg</st1:city>, <st1:country-region st="on">Russia</st1:country-region></st1:place></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Saint+Petersburg" rel="tag">Saint Petersburg</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Jewish+New+Year" rel="tag">Jewish New Year</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Akeelah+and+the+Bee" rel="tag">Akeelah and the Bee</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Rocky" rel="tag">Rocky</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Saint+Petersburg" rel="tag">Saint Petersburg</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Jewish+New+Year" rel="tag">Jewish New Year</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Akeelah+and+the+Bee" rel="tag">Akeelah and the Bee</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Rocky" rel="tag">Rocky</a></span><br /><o:p> </o:p></p>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15276077.post-77078074488709144982006-09-10T22:16:00.000-07:002006-09-10T22:17:44.018-07:00<span style="font-size:180%;">The Alviso Time Machine.</span><br />September 1<br /><br />It all happened on an ordinary Friday two weeks ago. My team went to lunch at a mexican restaurant in Alviso. I opened up google maps and typed the address in and tried to understand from the map where it was. Then I zoomed out a bit and then a bit more and violla! it was a 7 minute drive from my office on the very same street.<br /><br />I've never been there before. The farthest I've traveled up that road was to the highway intersection. Imagine my surprise when half a kilometer after the highway, once you pass the high tech office buildings and cross the bridge over a reed-filled creek, you suddenly discover yourself in the 50s!<br /><br />The place was amazing. The only new thing in it seemed to be the fire station. I came back a week later with a colleague to walk around town and take some photos.<br /><br />The town, now part of San Jose, stands against what used to be the southern tip of San Francisco bay and is now seasonal tide pools. Surprisingly, there's no development going on in the area. No new houses, no apartment complexes and the for-sale sign on one of the old, boarded up buildings, seemed to have been hanging there for a long time.<br /><br /><br />The houses that seem to be taken care of look like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLDBtFABI/AAAAAAAAAbc/Lmm-Kz5oZdo/Img2006-09-01_0067.jpg?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLDBtFABI/AAAAAAAAAbc/Lmm-Kz5oZdo/Img2006-09-01_0067.jpg?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />But a lot of them just look broken down like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRK7qEAABI/AAAAAAAAAa0/CcySSBJZED8/Img2006-09-01_0038.jpg?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRK7qEAABI/AAAAAAAAAa0/CcySSBJZED8/Img2006-09-01_0038.jpg?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I liked this car mummification method. The super high-tech particle based self-adhesive material covering the car protects it against the ages. I'm now firmly of the opinion that my own car is squeaky clean!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RQT0BbtzABI/AAAAAAAAAdA/XVWBlvOFkco/Img2006-09-01_0032.jpg?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RQT0BbtzABI/AAAAAAAAAdA/XVWBlvOFkco/Img2006-09-01_0032.jpg?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />There were other, less-easily-explained places.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLHHRxABI/AAAAAAAAAb0/TBJMrop2FFE/Img2006-09-01_0110.jpg?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLHHRxABI/AAAAAAAAAb0/TBJMrop2FFE/Img2006-09-01_0110.jpg?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a>What did "Skin Deep" mean? Was it an old club? Or was this the site of secret experiements and alien abductions taking place long ago and soon to be a major TV show on FOX? <span style="font-weight: bold;">Skin Deep(TM) - What's underneath might not be flesh and blood. Mauhahahaha</span><br /><br />There are some historical places where the local cannery used to be:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLQDolABI/AAAAAAAAAcs/1En1gy0u284/Img2006-09-01_0130.jpg?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh6.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLQDolABI/AAAAAAAAAcs/1En1gy0u284/Img2006-09-01_0130.jpg?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And check out this amazing gate and the concrete road leading to, eh... we apologize for the technical difficulties. It appears the property has been snatched away. Tune in to next week's episode of <span style="font-weight: bold;">"Skin Deep(TM) - What's underneath might not be flesh and blood. Mauhahahaha"</span> and see how a whole house could have disappeared. Or did it?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLMRmiABI/AAAAAAAAAcM/AZA3skCJJ5w/Img2006-09-01_0125.jpg?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLMRmiABI/AAAAAAAAAcM/AZA3skCJJ5w/Img2006-09-01_0125.jpg?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This bird feeder / bath was in the yard of a decorated house (see album for a picture of its front porch).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLBauPABI/AAAAAAAAAbU/P-PsTHTaBeM/Img2006-09-01_0061.jpg?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh5.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRLBauPABI/AAAAAAAAAbU/P-PsTHTaBeM/Img2006-09-01_0061.jpg?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Speaking of the front porch, we met an actual family sitting on the porch. Yes - just like in the movies. Yes - in California. But it did start to seem like we've stumbled onto a old route 66 town. Especially when a clearly new train suddenly ran through town, leaving it as fast as possible without bothering to stop.<br /><br />Here's one more relic from the town:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRK90IXABI/AAAAAAAAAa8/p9pADJJr1q8/Img2006-09-01_0049.jpg?imgmax=576"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://lh3.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRK90IXABI/AAAAAAAAAa8/p9pADJJr1q8/Img2006-09-01_0049.jpg?imgmax=576" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />More pictures at:<br /><div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"><div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/AlvisoSep06"><img src="http://lh4.google.com/eran.davidov/RQRK2GcEABE/AAAAAAAAAdE/St9YXMt5OLg/AlvisoSep06.jpg?imgmax=160&crop=1" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /></a></div><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/eran.davidov/AlvisoSep06"><div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">AlvisoSep0<wbr>6</div></a><div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);">Sep 1, 2006 - 20 Photos</div></div><br /><br /><br /><span class="technoratitag"> <b>Technorati Tags</b>: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Alviso" rel="tag">Alviso</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Route+66" rel="tag">Route 66</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span><br /><span class="tagspaces"> <b>Del.icio.us Tags</b>: <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Alviso" rel="tag">Alviso</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Route+66" rel="tag">Route 66</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Eran+Davidov" rel="tag">Eran Davidov</a>, <a href="http://del.icio.us/tag/Travel+Blogs" rel="tag">Travel Blogs</a></span>Eran Davidovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12317592168622036851noreply@blogger.com0