Monthly Archives: January 2015

Kuala Lumpur

Kuala Lumpur

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Petronas tower
Petronas tower

The name of the capital city of Malaysia certainly is exotic, but it is a city of 1.6 million in an urban area of almost 7 million. We stayed in what might be called the “historic downtown area,” but there has been so much renovation and construction, only a small slice of “history” remains. The city wants to be, and is on the way to become, the Islamic banking capital of the world. Tourism also is important and it is the sixth most visited city in the world. The net result is that there are a lot of banks and bank buildings, and even more shopping malls. The “Central Market,” like those in many 3rd World cities, features mostly low-priced food, dry goods, and tourist trinkets. High priced items are in familiar-named stores along the main boulevards. As we found in most of our travels, there is no middle–just rich and poor. The photos in this post are of the city, but not really representative. We only had one full day in town and saw the biggest tourist attractions. Most of Kuala Lumpur looks similar to Hong Kong, New York, and Chicago. But, here and there, rainforest green catches your eye and the outskirts of the city is dense and overgrown jungle.
Lobby of the Shangri La Hotel in KL
Lobby of the Shangri La Hotel in KL

Storks in the bird sancutary
Storks in the bird sancutary
In the Kuala Lumpur butterfly gardeb
In the Kuala Lumpur butterfly garden
Info on the Situ

Avoid confusion, use the index

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The nature of blog posting is “LIFO” or “last in, first out.” When more than one topic is discussed non-sequentially, the resulting entries can seem disjointed an out of context. This is why,on the top and along the side we have an index. The index serves to group entries by subject matter and is sequential in terms of the course of our trip. So, if you start at La Mesa and end in Kuala Lumpur, you will end up covering things in order. And, any new entries as we are now doing some mopping up of places we missed will beindex

Tasmania

Clear as a Tasmanian Night

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Moon and Jupiter over Maclean Bay, Bicheno, Tasmania
Moon and Jupiter over Maclean Bay, Bicheno, Tasmania
How clear is the southern sky in Tasmania? The moon was full and bright as a heavenly lighthouse. Even partially cloud-covered it obscured most of the stars. All I had at hand was my iPhone (my camera was with our lost baggage at the time) and I hand-held the above shot. That pinpoint of light at the moon’s 5 o’clock is Jupiter. I captured a “star” with my iPhone in Tasmania!

Tasmania

Cradle Mountain

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Cradle Mountain viewed from Dove lake. Upper crags are igneous dolomite, middle is metamorphic rock, and the lower portions obscured by foliage are sedimentary rocks. The lake was formed by glaciers.
Cradle Mountain viewed from Dove lake. Upper crags are igneous dolomite, middle is metamorphic rock, and the lower portions obscured by foliage are sedimentary rocks. The lake was formed by glaciers.

What makes Tasmania magical? I’d argue geology. In the slow ripping apart of the once supercontinent of Pangea, what is now Tasmania was caught between Australia and Antartica like a little child in a rough divorce. The resulting trauma has created a confused and erratic landscape, a prime example of which is the stunning Cradle Mountain National Park.
Early morning at the foot of Dove Lake when the water is like a mirror and all you hear is quiet.
Early morning at the foot of Dove Lake when the water is like a mirror and all you hear is quiet.

In the U.S., you want sedimentary you go to the Grand Canyon. You want metamorphic, try Great Smoky. And for igneous, the Sierra Nevada. In Tassie, you get them all in Cradle Mountain, staked like a badly baked, but wonderfully dramatic, layer cake of rock. And then you have the primeval forests, glacial lakes, and the wildlife.

Usually the weather closes in and the mountain is visible perhaps once a week. We got lucky and the days were sunny and warm. We only spent three days at the park, but we could easily have spent a week.

Dusk come to Cradle Mountain.
Dusk come to Cradle Mountain.

Our first view of Cradle Mountain when we arrived, as the clouds began to lift like curtains.
Our first view of Cradle Mountain when we arrived, as the clouds began to lift like curtains.

The Currawong is a Tasmanian version of a crow. They are very smart and aggressive.
The Currawong is a Tasmanian version of a crow. They are very smart and aggressive.

The hiking trail around the lake is about four miles round trip. some of it is hiking through dense forest.
The hiking trail around the lake is about four miles round trip. some of it is hiking through dense forest.

Info on the Situ

Invaluables

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Travel Tech
It would have been impossible to manage such a complex itinerary, all the currency converions and time zone changes, all the unexpected plan changes, and even driving route selection without our smart phones, iPads, a half dozen cables, chargers, converters, adapters, and a few amazing apps. “TripIt” stored our entire itinerary (flights, hotels, confirmations and record locator numbers, contact numbers, payment information, inclusions/exclusions, layover details, connections, etc.) in chronological order. It sent us reminders when it was time to check in, and informed us of flight delays and gate changes even before they hit the airline service desks. 

By buying a chip for the iPad in Australia, we were able to engage Google Maps, which provided real time traffic information and re-routed us around construction and traffic delays, cutting hours off of our travel time. And, at the airport in Bangkok, Andy discovered yet another Google app that can translate signs from non-Arabic languages such as Chinese or Thai into English. (Note: Although tech was an invaluable travel aid for us, it was also invaluable to have paper copies of e-ticketed itineraries as well, since many airlines and hotels weren’t as sophisticated as we were and seemed to only trust actual pieces of paper. The night before we left, I decided to print screen shots of all our reservations. Boy, am I glad I listened to that little “just in case” voice in my head…

We also found the new e-passports invaluable. They are barcoded and allow one to skip immigration lines and get processed at kiosks in advanced countries such as Australia. In the U.S., our Global Pass trusted traveller cards in combination with the new passports saved us from waiting on long lines, filling out forms and going through screenings. Some airports triple screen now, so anything that simplifies the process is well worth it.

Low/no-cost phone plans
One doesn’t think about the cost of phone calls overseas until one finds oneself on hold with 3 different airlines for 2 hours each at $2 per minute. Andy’s prescience in setting up a 20 cents a minute plan with T-mobile before we left the U.S. really paid off. Somewhere in Tasmania he found a way to beat even that with wi-fi calling that was free, although it didn’t work all the time. One thing we didn’t think of, however, was the fact that our mobile number was useless to others. We might have been able to call on the cheap, but locals in foreign countries had to pay overseas rates on their phones to call us. This was a significant realization when trying to get a live person to return our phone calls relating to our lost luggage. Once we understood this, we could work around it, but it took a few days for that particular light bulb to go off.

Travel insurance
After this trip, we would never consider travelling without it. While purchased mainly to cover a real medical emergency, the brush with even a small medical problem in Slovakia plus the cascading effect of just one cancelled Etihad flight that resulted in 4 lost days (and affected pre-paid cars, hotels, ferries, as well as baggage delays)–well, let’s just say this trip made us believers. Although i still have to do the math, I suspect our policy paid for itself and then some. A caveat…be aware of coverage limits such as only one incident per trip, low daily maximums and exclusions (anything not specifically stated isn’t covered). Example: Before we left, we learned that our policy would cover us medically if we contracted Ebola, but would not allow us to cancel if an Ebola outbreak occurred at any of our planned destinations (plague was not specifically listed as a covered cause of delay/cancellation.) Don’t you just love insurance companies?

Credit cards
Most credit cards levy a 3% surcharge for foreign transactions. Plus, some overseas vendors tack on an additional 3% for Amex or non-Maestro (the European equivalent of MasterCard) cards. Plus there are hefty fees charged by your friendly U.S. banks/credit unions for ATM use. All of these fees really add up. We found the Barclay Arrival Card to be invaluable on this trip and used it, or cash, exclusively. It does not charge any foreign transaction fees, provides double points for travel expenditures, plus credits any accumulated points as cash back. I think we only had to hit an ATM only once (our compensation from Etihad for delayed baggage helped out too).

Time Zones
It is important to get a handle on times zones, and how they affect body rhythms (all of a sudden, with hardly any warning,you keel over into your soup), med schedules (someone needs to invent an app for that!) and cancellation policies (one is expected to provide sufficient cancellation notice based on that location’s time zone, not the one you happen to be in. British Air expected us to advise them of flight delays before they even happened in our time zone.

Info on the Situ, Tasmania

Wallaby

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Wallaby about the size of a baboon. If your zoo membership has expired and the analogy doesn't work for you, try this: about the size of a weekender suitcase without the front zippered pocket (that would be a female wallaby).
Wallaby about the size of a baboon. If your zoo membership has expired and the analogy doesn’t work for you, try this: about the size of a weekender suitcase without the front zippered pocket (that would be a female wallaby).

So, some viewers might be wondering why there are no Tasmania national park blogs. Most of our best shots were taken with our cameras and, skipping the messy details, I need a computer, not an iPad, to translate them into something I can post. And, photos are worth at least a hundred of my words of description. 

We saw no kangaroos on our trip–there are none on Tasmania. But there are wallabys. And, if a miniature poodle is still a poodle, wallabys are just  small roos. So, how can I write about Australia without posting a shot of a wallaby?

We did see a number of them in the wild, but this guy–it’s a bloke, cause he had no pouch–was looking for a handout in a parking lot. OK, so I gave him a couple of bucks.

Info on the Situ

Hate

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Over the course of our trip, we’ve been to three Muslim countries: Turkey, Abu Dhabi, and Malaysia. Meanwhile, the French, Belgians, and Germans have been battling terrorist incidents. There is a disconnect. The people we have met–and I’m not just talking about those in the service industries catering to western tourists, but those we meet as fellow visitors and citizens on the street–have been unfailingly friendly, kind, and helpful. Sure, you can’t see a smile behind a burka, but you can hear it in a voice or the crinkle of a smile in the eyes. 

I’m not saying my individual observations are more accurate than our media, necessarily. But, I don’t have a political agenda to push, a constituency to please, or an axe to grind. From the outside looking in, it would appear the U.S. media, at least, is promoting confrontation. 

Are there protesters upset with the depiction of their prophet by non-believers? I haven’t seen any, but the world is a large place, and I am sure that out of millions of Muslims there are hundreds in the streets for the cameras. But, anyone see any anti-Christ cartoons lately? Wonder why? Maybe we have our taboos too.

I’m beginning to think that governments and media prejudice their citizens and consumers for their own ends. They’re not the statesmen or newsmen they pretend to be, but ranting Archie Bunkers and we all are too disconnected from the rest of the world to realize it.

Info on the Situ

Marcia’s Observations

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One of the main reasons we travel is to shake up our take on things. Beliefs, expectations and assumptions that we leave with are often not the same ones we return with. In no particular order, the following stand out as things we have observed during this trip that have the power to change how we think, who we are and what is important to us.

1) In the past, wherever our world travels took us–Europe, Asia, South America, Africa–we always bumped into tons of Americans (predominantly from New York, California and Florida), as well as Germans, Brits, and Japanese. On this trip, in addition to Brits, who are still among the world’s most avid travellers, we’ve encountered mostly Australians (oddly enough from the less-populated Perth, not Sydney), Canadians and Chinese. The smattering of Americans we’ve met were mostly from the midwest. I don’t think we’ve come across one northeastener yet. Even with a few Californians and Floridians thrown in, the U.S. has been way under-represented this trip. We found this very strange. Is there a shift in the travelling population?  Everywhere we visited, the locals spoke about Chinese travellers wanting to buy up everything from art to jewelry to wine to real estate. There seems to be a great deal of wealth in mainland China seeking a home abroad. And American influence appears to be waning. Hmmmm…..

2) Speaking of wealth, the disparity been the haves and have nots, especially in travel, has become positively alarming. Basically, one is either a prince or cattle. It’s not just about leg room, in flight meals or flat bed seats anymore, although all of these make long haul flights more tolerable. These days, a Business Class ticket literally gets you to the head of the line at check in, at security checks, at customs and on transfer buses. And it can be a matter of survival when things go wrong. Witness our saga as “paid” Economy Class passengers vs. “free” award ticket First Class passengers during the 4 days we were at the mercy of Etihad and Qantas. Our free ticket was our entry pass into prince-dom and made a huge difference in how (and how quickly) we were rerouted; how we were fed, sheltered, and transported to and from airports; the amount of cash provided for “pain and suffering” and even lost luggage delivery. I can’t forget the crowd at the Etihad counter in Abu Dhabi when the plane arrived too late to make any connecting flights. It was so chaotic we fully expected to see flapping chickens and squealing pigs emerge from the mob. Instead, we waved our magic ticket and were whisked away to the Etihad lounge to be soothed with liquor, a lavish international buffet, a shower if desired, and an assigned airline rep to rearrange our lives while we relaxed.

Andy and I googled the cost of a First Class ticket from Abu Dhabi to Sydney–a staggering $20,000 per person. I suspect Business Class isn’t much more approachable (which might explain why there were so many shieks in the lounge with us). Alas, when our miles run out, we will once again become part of the herd. However we will certainly spring for lounge acess on long or multiple leg trips–a compromise which seems to be well worth it, if only to escape even briefly from the madding crowds.

One more observation on money and travel. In Tasmania, we met a Singaporean couple who were heading off to Cradle Mountain, where we had just spent 3 glorious days hiking in the national park. To save money, they had opted to stay in a small town 40 kilometers outside the park. That decision would likely cost them the entire park experience. Those 40 kilometers will take them over 1 1/2 hours to drive each way, on a narrow 2-lane road with dozens of switchbacks, hairpin turns and the constant threat of wallabies, wombats and wandering cows around each one. Add fog, nighttime and the threat of rain to the mix, and that drive will be the last thing they will want to take after a day hiking in the park. What a shame–less than $100 per night more would have made all the difference. We dodged many such bullets in planning this trip, often opting not to do something at all if we couldn’t do it in a way that would maximize the experience. From this point forward, I will always think of that couple when budgeting a trip.

3) Birds, animals and flowers. Given that it is summer in Australia, I was surprised at the dearth of flora and fauna, both in number and variety. We came across crows, currawongs and ducks, a wallaby or two, sheep, and cows. Plant life consisted mostly of agapanthus, roses and hydrangas and huge stands of every kind of euculpytus one could imagine. Of course, in wine country, vineyards went on for miles. But so far, that’s about it. Drought and changing weather patterns worldwide may be responsible.

4) Stuff. We wisely limited ourselves to what we each could carry/lug without help–namely one suitcase and a backpack apiece. Given that we had to accomodate a range of dress codes (from a fancy New Years Eve gala to hiking gear), and all types of weather, from from frigid cold (Iceland), rain and snow (Europe), and heat/humidity (Malaysia), packing was no small feat. (Especially when one travels with someone who has big feet!) While we used practically everything we brought, we could have gotten away with far less. This became apparent after 4 days with no luggage. Packing and repacking and repacking yet again got old real fast. I found we yearned for simplicity when it came to stuff and don’t need much variety at all when it comes to things.

5) Experiences. The opposite seems to be true when it comes to experiences. People we met asked us which was the best part of our trip. As we near the end, we’ve concluded that no one experience stands out as much as the variety of it all…zigging and zagging between elegant restaurants, art museums, pizza joints, Viennese waltz lessons, hiking trails, opera and symphony houses, midnight jeep adventures, boat cruising, road trips, historical and geological side trips, wine tastings, organ recitals, city touring and cosy cabins in the woods. The ability to rough it and luxuriate with equal pleasure is what has made this trip so memorable and special for us.

6) Resiliancy, socialability and compatability. Being gone for such a long time, we’ve had to become pretty adept at dealing with unexpected detours. And we’ve had to interface with a wide range of people from very different backgrounds. This has been far easier than we expected, given that socialability isn’t something that comes naturally to either one of us. However, our eclectic interests, perverse sense of humor and travel background have seemingly turned us into charming conversationalists. Who would have thunk! We’ve had engaging discussions with a farmer from Oklahoma, an Austrailian CEO of a space technology company, a fusion glass artist, a gay horticulturist and his professional photographer partner, to name a few. And we quickly bonded with two Aussie couples from Perth, with whom we had the pleasure of dining (and closing the bar) on the riverboat every day. We exchanged emails and have promised each other to meet again at our respective home turfs in California and in Perth. We fully intend to live up to our part of the pact. As far as compatability goes, after 40 years of marriage, and 35 years working together, you’d think compatability between Andy and me would be a given. But on this trip, we realized how much of a team we really are, and how well our interests, skills and personalities mesh together and are complementary. It is surprising how rarely we snapped at each other, how patient and forgiving we’ve been with each other, and how much we have enjoyed all of the different experiences, even, and perhaps especially, the ones that tested us. 

As I said when I began this installment, travel broadens, but it also has the ability to narrow and focus one on what’s most important. And travel, for us, is inthe top 3. We would do this again in a heartbeat.

Adelaide/Barossa Valley

Real and Surreal

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Think of the painter Magritte. In his works, people are representational and fruit is dead on. It’s the juxtaposition of an apple for a face that makes the works surreal–the substitution of something that should not be there for something that is expected. This is Australia as viewed by my American eye. From a distance, the gorgeous landscapes are similar to Maine, the California coast, and many of our national parks. But when you get up close, the expected is replaced by the unusual. 

You see an awfully large rabbit, blink, and now it’s a wallaby. You hear a bird whistle and see a grey and lavender parrot. The magpies have gurnsey feathering. A weeping willow turns out to be kind of pine tree. There are forests of eucalypts with a different version for each of the ecological niches. A black “garter snake” slithers by and you discover that it’s poisonous–but no worries, mate, it’s only the third deadliest in Australia, and one antivenin cures all (if administered in time). Aussies drive on the left. Cyclones rotate counterclockwise (but most drain water in sinks and toilets rotates clockwise–plumbing conventions are far stronger than the Coreolis Effect). The North Star isn’t visible and  the Southern Cross doesn’t always point South. And in Australia America’s today is an Aussie’s tomorrow. 

It’s high season and there are two cars on the road.

"High season" at a restaurant awarded "best pizza in Australia" for the last three years.
“High season” at a restaurant awarded “best pizza in Australia” for the last three years.

We visit wineries and we often are the only guests. Our hosts pour, four, five, six, samples and happily chat with us about the wine and life in general. Time per winery: 45 minutes to an hour. Cost: nothing. You meet an Aussie on a hiking trail and he’s your friend for life. They are a very open and friendly people. Ask a bloke for directions to a gas station and he’ll offer give you a liter or two if you’re running too low. If this is surreal, give me more of it. All one really needs to do is change one’s expectations and then surreal becomes normal. I’m working on that.

Come to think of it, maybe it’s the USA that is surreal in the sense that our expectations are out of line when it comes to living life as a human being instead of a consumer.

Adelaide/Barossa Valley

Barossa Wine Region

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Barossa cuisine was something of a disappointment–more for show than for taste. The best eating we’ve had on the trip was in Iceland and Tasmania. The Barossa wines, however, were a real highlight of the trip. Unfortunately, they keep many of the best for themselves. Partly this is due to the limited quantities produced. Partly, many wineries are family run affairs making a reasonable profit selling to Aussies. They have no desire for the hassles involved in exporting.

In the Barossa region, the cooler Eden Valley is “high” (1500 feet), and the warmer Barossa Valley is low (200 feet) with very red, iron-rich soil. A couple of tastings poured Shiraz from both areas side by side to compare. Most of the Aussie Shiraz in the US is Barossa–the more robust and fruity of the two. The Eden wines are more delicate and layered. Both are delicious, and which one you pick depends on your mood and food.

Rieslings are big. I did not find most of them as appealing as say the Eroica from Chateau St. Michelle in Washington, but all were interesting.

Some exceptional wines, but not available in the US, alas:

Rockford 2005 Shiraz VP: these guys figured out how to make a port wine from Shiraz. It is amazing but short-lived. Once open, the wine loses its flavor and depth in as little as three days. The winemaker said “Invite your good friends and drink it up in a night.”

Rockford Hand Picked Riesling: they went for crisp and sweet. Really great as an aperitif or dessert wine.

St. Hallet The Black NV: this is a sparkling Shiraz made the French Champanoise way. It is relatively sweet, compared to champagne, but the incredible flavor and depth is unique. Goes great with bacon and eggs or Christmas dinner.

St. Hallet Old Block Shiraz 2010: made from 100-year-old vines, this was the best Shiraz I’ve ever had. The depth and complexity rivals the best French Bordeaux and we had it young. The cellar person said that if you age it for 15 years it even gets better. Hard to believe. FYI, it is a combination of vintages from this grape that makes the NV sparking wine above.

Bethany Eden Valley Riesling 2010: Better than the Eroica, great with fish or Asian cuisine. Has a real snap with an almost apple crispness on the tongue.

Henschke Noble Rot Semillion: fantastic dessert wine. Sweet with a kind of zing. Goes great with cheese or fruit, but almost is best savored alone.

Haggies Chardonnay 2013: could have fooled me into thinking it was a Sauvignon Blanc. Not oakey or heavy, but light and delicately fruity. 

Bethany old Valley Barossa Fronti White Port: we brought a bottle of this stuff home with us. Be nice, and we might share it. It’s not actually clear, but more honey colored. Sweet, but feather-light on your palate. Hmm, maybe we won’t share.

Danube Cruise

A Hungarian New Year

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The Ethniographic Musem was a grand locale for a party.
The Ethniographic Musem was a grand locale for a party.

The Uniworld New Year’s Eve event in the Ethinographic Museum main hall achieved gala status though things fell apart shortly before Midnight. We are not big on big parties, so the screw ups made the night memorably epic.

During the course of the dinner, which began around 7:30 with unidentifiable hors d’ouvres and  sparkling wine only slightly sweeter than Coke, we were entertained by a chamber music quintet, opera and operetta singers, dancers, a rock band, and incredible sand drawing. The sand drawing was created by an artist before our eyes, spilling sand through his fingers to create complex images, which were then projected on a screen. This was an impressive, if unusual, display of artistry.

An artist sifting and sifting sand created a unique blend of performance art and art.
An artist sifting and sifting sand created a unique blend of performance art and art.

There was a discernible effort to expose the audience to the virtues of Hungarian opera. Now, if you are not into opera, you might not realize that there is Hungarian opera. And if you are an opera fanatic, you still would never have heard any of these pieces. The Italians have nothing to fear. 

Some people complained that the libretti were in Hungarian and they could not understand what was going on. Right, like they could understand Italian, German, or French operas. The music was pleasent and it was different–wasn’t that why were were in Hungary to begin with?

Later, during the main course, there was a brief interlude with songs from Sound of Music, and that seemed to appease the linguistically concerned among us.

A wine for every course created a forest of glassware. All the wines were Hungarian and unpronounceable. They were pleasent but not memorable.
A wine for every course created a forest of glassware. All the wines were Hungarian and unpronounceable. They were pleasent but not memorable.

The seeds of chaos began earlier in the evening with the mistaken shipboard announcement that busses ferrying guests home from the gala would leave at 11:15pm and 2am. So, when the clock struck 11:15 over half the guests rushed to grab their coats and leave, thinking they’d be stuck at the party for 2 1/2 hours more. This in the middle of a dancing Hungarian Opera (as far as I could tell, there are two types of Hungarian opera: one, where the singers stand tall and sing; and one where they sing and dance. That fact that no one has heard of Hungarian opera certainly is not due to lack of innovation on the part of the Hungarians. Dancing opera is a bit like an American musical in Hansel and Gretal dress.) So, everything ground to an embarrassing halt while the lemmings went on the lam.
Happ New Year! . . . at 11:45pm.
Happy New Year! . . . at 11:45pm.

Our table of 10, four Aussies and six Californians, remained to enjoy the festivities. And, our Aussie friends showed true class by inviting over a couple of other guests left abandoned at their table. 

But, the pace of the evening had been tripped up. The Hungarians now announced that the New Year’s festivities would commence, Hungarian style. Big musical numbers, plenty of excitement, grand fanale. And it all ended with confetti  at 11:45. That’s right, we celebrated the new year in silence. Finally, someone in the now-assembled rock band, thought to do a countdown, and we Happy New Yeared a few minutes after midnight. Then the band played Fifties and Sixites American rock and many of us danced the twist, and Lindy, (yours truly did no Marcia twirls), while the Aussies did their “infinity” dance (basically, you dance opposite, but not touching your partner, and move one of your arms in a figure 8 horizontally).

Food

Marcia’s Foodie Edition I

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I had finished writing this in Istanbul but needed WiFi to add pictures. When we finally got good WiFi, I opened my iPad to the message “Your iPAd has been disabled.” Long story short, 5 days later, the Mac store in Launceston Tasmnia was able to restore functionality but not my blog. So here’s “take 2″…

With 4 weeks of food under our belts (literally), the freshness and quality have surprised us. Iceland and Tasmania have excelled in their preparation of fish in every form. In iceland, we sampled seafood bisque whenever we could. It was typically tomato based, and often flavored with either saffron or coconut. It was always steaming hot and laden with langustinos, whole mussels and/or shrimp. Tasmania’s version was more chowder-like–cream based with chunks of fish, potatoes and often just-caught “crays.” 

Salmon is a staple in many parts of the world. We enjoyed it smoked, gravlax, tatare, grilled, poached and in sushi. Speaking of shushi, it has been consistently so fresh, we’ve expected it to flop off the plate. The Abu Dhabi version was drop dead beautiful–rows upon rows were displayed in vivid technicolor like miniature works of art.

Salmon Tartare
Salmon Tartare

Abu Dhabi sushi
Abu Dhabi sushi

Iceland sushi
Iceland sushi

Regional specialties were often offered, although we passed on the whale, puffin and reindeer offered in Iceland, the latter seemingly at odds with the popular Christmas song that played incessently in the backgroud. In Tasmania, oysters reign supreme. On our last night in Launceston, we had one of the best meals we’ve ever had, starting with tempura battered oysters that were just barely fried so they remained plump and juicy on the inside. 

Lamb was also something we came across often and in many forms: loin, shank, rack and, in Turkey, minced and formed into meatballs. 

Icelandic rack of lamb
Icelandic rack of lamb

Hot chocolate became a personal favorite during the colder portions of the trip. After a blizzardy morning walking in Reykjavik, we ducked into a small cafe called “Fish” (named, we suspect, for the decor, which consisted of dozens of plastic baggies–the kind pet stores use to transport goldfish–suspended from the ceiling. Any resident goldfish, thankfully, had long since been removed.) The hot chocolate at Fish tasted like melted bittersweet chocolate in a cup, made drinkable by folding in lightly sweetened freshly whipped cream and a touch of warm milk. The riverboat on which we travelled down the Danube managed to up the hot chocolate ante. On a frigid evening in Grein, Austria, they added a shot of Glenmorangie single malt scotch and a chocolate bonbon on a stick as a stirrer.

Germany was all about beer, bratwurst, Gluhwein (a hot mulled wine traditionally served at the Christmas markets), the ubiquitous weiner schnitzel, most typically served with crusty black bread, hot potato salad, braised red cabbage or roasted potatoes, and cucumber salad. We sampled Radlers (the German equivalent of an English shandy), ales, stouts and the famous St. Augustine beer, some of which were served in unconscionable 1-liter mugs. Andy was able to hold his own but, for me, the beer halls were all about the big doughy twisted pretzels and sweet grainy mustard served alongside. In Munich, the Anna Hotel also offered these for breakfast from a coatrack-type stand next to the croissants. (As an aside, the Anna also offered condoms–not for breakfast, of course, but in a little wooden box as part of its bathroom amenities selection. Never came across that before…).

Munich Weiner Schnizel
Munich Weiner Schnizel

A side note: Instead of providing paper cups for the Gluhwein, each vendor offered a ceramic cup with their “signature” design. The first cup was 5 euros, but refills were only 3.5 euros.  This ensured multiple revenue sources–from the cup itself, and any refills (guaranteed to be made at that same vendor). Plus, it was ecologically responsible, gave tourists with room in their luggage a souvenir to take back home, and gave locals new cups to add to their collection each year.  Now that is saavy marketing!

Danube Cruise

Standing in Their Shoes

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There is a memorial on the Pest shores of the Danube in Budapest that in its simplicity and elegance, says more, perhaps, than all the strum und drang of Dachau. During 1944 and 1945, the Nazis-sympathizing Arrow Cross Militia gathered Jews, lined them up on the shoreline above the river, told them to remove their shoes and shot them. Their bodies fell into the Danube and were carried away. 

The memorial to the victims is a row of bronze shoes facing the river. Most visitors come by to look; some place flowers or charms in rememberence of lost friends and relatives.
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There is just one small plaque, no push-button blab box, no brochures, and no posters. Sometimes shame and horror are best expressed in silence.

Danube Cruise

Budapest

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Eight bridges cross the Danube from Buda to Pest. One, the Chain Bridge has stone towers like the Brooklyn Bridge. The others are less imposing, but strolling across the river on any bridge is an excellent way to get an overview of the city. To me, Budapest looks like what I was expecting in Vienna. Many of the buildings are ornate and graceful. During the day, they are lovely; lit at night the city is breathtaking. While the architecture might be 19th century, Budapest is a vibrant and upbeat place with an energetic New York vibe. Unfortunately, we did not get a chance to sample the cuisine, but checking out the restaurant and cafe menus, Budapest looks like a good eating city

Danube Cruise

Vienna

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Both before and during our trip, people who have been to Vienna and Budapest raved about the former and were less enthusiastic about the latter. My expectations were based upon those reports, and so I was surprised by how I felt. 

The Vienna portrayed in “Amadeus” and other such movies no longer exists, if it ever did. Allied bombing in WWII accounted for some of the “renovation,” and years straddling the fence between Eastern Communisim and Western Democracy discouraged capital investment. As we sailed into town, this history, the 21-degree temperatures, snow, and sleet, made the city look as drab as Stalin’s tunic. 

There are gorgeous exceptions in the city center.
Vienna Opera House

Atrium of the Vienna Opera.
Atrium of the Vienna Opera.

The opera house is as grand a building as you would hope to see. It was bombed by mistake during WWII, destroying half the building. The remaining original 19th century architecture is as ornate as a Viennese pastry, while the post-war restortoration is “United Nations” style and quietly elegant. The two styles don’t so much work together as live-and-let-live.

The symphony hall is non-descript on the outside and breathtakingly ornate inside.

Musikverein Golden Hall is the home of the Vienna Philharmonic.
Musikverein Golden Hall is the home of the Vienna Philharmonic.

Picture sitting inside a golden jewelry box with the jewels on the ceiling and walls.

Then there is the Alberina Museum which is situated within one of the Happsburgs’ palaces. (Brief history here: the Happsburgs were the 19th and early 20th century version of the Kardashians–but with immense power. The Austro-Hungarian Empire encompassed half of Europe.) I guess by definition a palace is a place where royalty live. All of the palaces in Vienna are neither moated nor turreted. They look more like Fifth Avenue mansions. This was another surprise for me.

You might call this the "foyer" to the Happsburgs' living quarters, still preserved in the art museum. Walls are bright yellow, but I cant color correct due to a bug in IOS 8.
You might call this the “foyer” to the Happsburgs’ living quarters, still preserved in the art museum. Walls are bright yellow, but I can’t color correct due to a bug in IOS 8.

Emil Nolde painting from the Albertina. Style is expressionism and "garish" was in at the time (1930s).
Emil Nolde painting from the Albertina. Style is expressionism and “garish” was in at the time (1930s).

The museum has a nice collection of Impressionism, Expressionism, Surrealism, and Cubism, and is small enough so you can appreciate it in a couple of hours. 

Why would a city steeped in 18th-to-mid-19th century music, architecture, and culture sport such a museum? Because they also want to embrace and incorporate the modern to show their culture isn’t just an historic artifact. They have schools and expos dedicated to innovation and high tech. Even some of their most famous buildings like the Opera House sport very modern murals on outside blank walls. I like the concept, but I am not sure the execution works. The new stuff almost seems like graffiti against the old.

Speaking of graffiti, the Danube Canal, which runs through the city, and is really is the Danube River (the waterway called the “river” is actually a canal–don’t ask,  it it has to do with flood control), is littered with it. The liberal Viennese government thought that if they gave the kids a place to express themselves, the rest of the city would be spared. Didn’t work, as anyone who has ever walked a dog could have told them–every tree, rock, and wall is a potential target of opportunity.

Abu Dhabi

Fog in the Desert III

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Please read part I, II, and II.5 first.

The worst part about the Etihad lounge was that they don’t know how to make a martini. My “Bombay Sapphire straight up with two olives” turned into a jigger of gin, and a jigger of vermouth right out of the bottle. Only the olives were cold. But, at 4am, they gave us free vouchers for a limo service into Abu Dhabi, 40 minutes away, and vouchers for the first-class Dusit Thani hotel, meals included.

Our Abu Dhabi hotel rook
Our Abu Dhabi hotel room.

Atrium of our hotel taken from the 23rd floor, where we had our room.
Atrium of our hotel taken from the 23rd floor, where we had our room.

Nicest accommodations of the trip, and close to the best food. (Their buffet beat anything in Vegas and at any hotel we’ve ever been to.) But, exhausted, we collapsed into bed and slept until Noon. 

There are really only two sights to see in Abu Dhabi–the place is mostly for shopping. Dubai is the tourist Mecca (so to speak), but it was 90 minutes away. We couldn’t motivate ourselves to get up and see the sights, 1: a mosque, or Sight 2: The Corniche beach and shopping area. And, we kept falling asleep, knowing a 14-hour flight to Sydney awaited us.

At 7:15 it was time to go back to the airport for our 9:20 flight. As we checked out, the desk clerk said there was no Etihad limo for us. “Take a taxi–here’s the fare. It’s more than enough.” I asked what to do about tipping the driver and the change, if any. He replied, “Don’t tip.” And “You keep the change.” Tipping the guests . . . I could get used to that.

"Ingot we trust." Outside the Premier Class Lounge in Abu Dhabi they have gold ATMs.
“Ingot we trust.” Outside the Premier Class Lounge in Abu Dhabi they have ATMs that dispense gold bars.

Once at the airport and at ease in the Premium lounge, we discovered that Etihad was still having problems with British Airlines to book us a flight to Hobart Tasmania. But we had been upgraded to First Class for the long flight, were scarfing down sushi, chicken Waldorf salad, salmon fusilli, and those potent, but incompetent Martinis.

The flight was delayed three hours–why weren’t we surprised?–and still Etihad could not quite get the Hobart connection fixed. Well, Sydney was closer to Hobart than Abu Dhabi, and was that key lime pie for dessert?

The plane was a 777; the seats were little compartments; the beds not only lay flat, but could easily accommodate six footers; the seats and beds had a massage setting; the entertainment was big-screen, noise-cancelling, and stereo; and the food was custom-prepared by an onboard chef who personally discussed your meal with you. 

The slogan for ABC’s Wide World of Sports was “The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.” Our motto for this trip was becoming “the thrill of First Class and the agony of Economy.” The lows made the highs so much higher. 

When we landed in Sydney on Tuesday, an Etihad representative had all the details ironed out–flight to Hobart Wednesday morning. But it was Tuesday. Yes, they would put us up again, this time at the airport hotel, meals included. Just pick up our bags. 

Ahh, our bags. While Etihad had 24 hours to stow them aboard our plane, they seemed to have missed the flight. So had the bags of 55 other passengers. They handed me $204 Austrailian as a consolation prize and set out to find our luggage.  Now, we really were beginning to feel like we were on the Etihad payroll.

Wednesday, day of our flight to Hobart. I am writing as we wing our way to Tasmania, bags still in limbo. Complicating variables are that despite Marcia correcting them three times, the airline spelled her name and my email address wrong, and seemed to lose my mobile number. Also, we will be moving around Tassie; even if they locate the bags, it will take some time and coordination to get them to us. 

Because of my arm injury, we decided to put all our camera equipment into our luggage to make our backpacks lighter. Well, we do have our cell phone cameras. Also our rain gear, and hiking shoes and clothes are in the luggage. Come to think of it, ALL our clothes are in the luggage except for what we are wearing and some underwear and a couple of shirts. Oh, yes, the weather report is calling for rain tomorrow, and Adelaide, our next stop in about a week, seems to be burning down. 

Sounds about right. Why settle for a vacation when you can have an adventure?

UPDATE BICHENO, TASMANIA
Etihad/Quantas did not put our bags on the next flight to Hobart, Tasmania because no one verified for a third time that we would be at the B&B that we’d told them twice before we would be staying at. And, word to the wise for the weary traveler using a USA cell in a foreign land, no one would call us internationally to verify anything–we had to call them. Of course we called Hobart, but no live person answered. All we got was a recording. And, leaving word did no good because no one was authorized to call internationally. Talk about being stuck in a loop. Finally, we got in touch with Quantas Australia (Their number was incorrect on their website!!! Another Tasmania branch office gave us the right number.) and they ordered someone to make the 2-hour drive to Bicheno to deliver our luggage the night before we took off for Cradle Mountain.

Abu Dhabi, Sydney

Fog in the Desert II.5 (you try 2.5 in Roman numbers)

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Let’s call this an update with details to follow:

As I write this at 6:02 Wednesday morning, we are in an airport hotel in Sydney with the promise of a flIght to Hobart Tasmania and the certainty that our luggage is lost. We are reduced to the clothes upon our backs and in out backpacks. Etihad is optimistic about finding it someday, but not before we set of for Tassie. And given that we are moving around the island, it is possible our luggage, if found, will be taking the same tour a day later than we.

But, we ARE in Australia and philosophic. It’s almost like we are now on Eithad’s payroll. They booked our Tassie flights and put us up in a third hotel with full meals (more to follow on our second hotel in an Abu Dhabi palace). If you are in First Class, They are superb problem solvers, even though some of their problems are of their own making. They are determined to make things right even if it takes a thousand wrong moves.

More to come

Abu Dhabi

Fog in the Desert Part II

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Make sure to read I before II. I am already being too wordy and don’t want to exacerbate this vice by repeating events.

1. Sunday. The beginning of a new week and a new ordeal.
2. A sign in the hotel lobby, as we walk to a nice buffet breakfast on Etihad, says only those whose final destination is Abu Dhabi should get on the 11am bus for a 4pm flight. Well, since we rebooked with American and will be in Abu Dhabi for 24 hours, this means us.
3. Bus arrives with an Etihad person bearing solutions for those with canceled connecting flights. One Turkish woman we chatted with, also trying to go to Sydney, said that she was now being routed on two different airlines–one to Inchon, Korea, and then from Inchon to Sydney. She would arrive on Tuesday. Etihad did say that if she could find a better routing, they would book it if any seats were available. Sorry for her, but we are delighted that we had planned ahead.
4. Do the security thing at the airport–I think they are beginning to recognize us. 
5. Go for our new boarding passes at the Etihad counter, and after two hours with the agent and two supervisors, I am writing this as we are aboard our plane ready to push back and fly to Abu Dhabi. Victory is ours!
6. BUT, Etihad could not find the American Airlines reservations in their system. Sure, it was on the  AA website and we have an AA confirmation, but not in the Etihad system. NO SEATS for us!
So, It was our choice: If we were willing to fly business class to Sydney (our miles were for First Class, and this was to have been a trip highlight) they would put us on the 2pm flight to Abu Dhabi so we could make the connection. Since we’re on the verge of doing three days in airports instead of Tasmania, we agreed and boarded our flight. 
8. Now I am sitting in the biz-class lounge in Abu Dhabi. It is 2:07 and my eyes are as hollow as a burned-out tree trunk. The flight from Istanbul was delayed for three hours. First, they had to wait for some passengers who went to the wrong gate. Then, when there were 20 no-shows, they had to offload their luggage. Last, we left at a very busiest time and it took us 30 minutes to take off. 
9. We missed the flight to Sydney. I might need to learn Arabic.
10. Observational note: there are a lot of Arabs in Abu Dhabi. There also are a lot of Americans. There even is US Customs which you can clear from a half-world away. Either Abu Dhabi is the 51st state, or the USA is an Arab Emirate.
11. Good news is Etihad has rebooked us for Monday, will treat us to a hotel room (again), and will try to help us get to Tasmania. Bad news is they won’t let us out of the lounge to go to the hotel until they straighten out all the booking. Bad news is Marcia has developed a cold. Now I hear some of you saying “Poor babies, stranded in a business class lounge.” And it is true that dining on an excellent smoked salmon in cream sauce pasta is not exactly waterboarding. Nor are the Belvedere and tonics. And one guest nearby just complained that his Heiniken wasn’t cold enough. We could have been suffering the grossly overcrowded public lounge with the poor economy class folks and the camels. Yes, we are grateful for the mana from Ethiad, but we also are very tired.

Will the “Fog in the Desert” turn into the “Eternal Blog in the Desert”? Don’t know yet, but look for Part III (and hopefully final) coming soon to your browsers.

Info on the Situ

Explanation of blog order

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The nature of a blog is posting-date sequential, but my writing is tends to be more stream-of-conscious in terms of when I write about things. Some have emailed me asking why certain places were left out. Just haven’t gotten to them yet. The menu will let you choose which areas you wish instead of being subjected to the tyranny of post order.

P.S. Food and entertainment portions of this blog are Marcia’s responsibility and She promises to stop eating soon enough to start writing.

Abu Dhabi, Istanbul

Fog in the Desert I

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With 19 flights I guess it was inevitable that something would go wrong. But, that fog in Abu Dhabi, causing the closeure of the airport for one hour, would cause us to miss four flights and lose our money on three pre-paid hotel and ferry reservations–that we didn’t count on. Nor did we count on British Airlines (we used miles from them) not making good on our missed flights because we didn’t give them 24 hours notice Australia time–which would have meant telling them of our delay two hours before we even knew there was a problem.

And then there’s Etihad Airlines (world’s leading airline in 2014, according to their self-promotional ads referencing no media I ever heard of) that could turn a 1-hour closure into a fiasco for thousands of travelers. 

Here are the details:
1. Saturday. Marcia and I arrived at the Istanbul International Airport the morning after a lovely evening in a great city. The airport is VERY security conscious–they have two full X-ray, shoes off, pat-down security points–the first is as you enter the airport; the second as you go to the gates. They also inspect your passport when entering And leaving the country.
2. The Etihad agent could not understand our booking. We paid bucks to fly from Istanbul to Abu Dhabi (couldn’t use miles) and miles to fly from Abu Dhabi to Sydney. After a half hour of telling us it was wrong, she involved a supervisor and they somehow welded the two flight together to make a single trip. I say “welded” because when problems hit, no one could undo the flight plan so that it could be updated and changed.
3. 11am, ETD board shows a 3-hour delay. We have lunch and are very philosophic because we still can make our second flight. 
4. 3pm, ETD board shows 6-hour delay. We are now scheduled to leave Istanbul two hours after our flight to Sydney is scheduled to leave. Safir gets the bright idea to call American Airlines (whose miles we used for Etihad) and push up our Sydney flight one day. We’ll just overnight in Abu Dhabi and avoid the rebooking rush. Marcia does her magic with American and all seems well. they just need Etihad to release the flight. One little problem, no one, American Airlines or us, can get through to Etihad. But they said they will keep trying.
5. 5pm, ETD board shows cancelled flight to Abu Dhabi. No announcements, no info–just the word “cancelled” in Turkish and English. Looks like we better see about a hotel room. So I go in search of the airport hotel while Marcia rechecks with American about our rescheduled flight. Glad we did that.
6. Strolled by Information on the way to the hotel and on a whim asked if Etihad had an office in the airport. No, but there is a transfer desk.
7. American still can’t confirm with Etihad. Marcia and I wander over to the transfer desk where chaos reigns. Many people are in need of all kinds of transfers. See someone in some kind of uniform and ask about Etihad–“Oh, don’t stand in line, you need to get your bags!” She takes our boarding passes and Passports, makes copies, and tells us where to go.
8. We stumble around the airport to the magic Passport Control #2–another chaotic line that I break into to get us out of the secure area and into the hidden Baggage Claim #11. The display shows  a flight from Russia, but our bags are doing the Hora around the carousel.
9. Grab the bags, see another uniformed person and ask what to do. “You must take the bus.” What bus? “Etihad bus.” What? Are we driving to Abu Dhabi? “Bus goes to the hotel–follow her it’s leaving now!” We jog through the airport after the fastest rep in the world.
10. Last two people on the bus (apparently, there also was a later one). Ten-minute trip to a hotel so popular that it has 200 rooms available at any time. Nice room with towels under the windows to keep the rain out. It hasn’t rained in days but the towels are still wet. But, the bed is comfy and they have a buffet to feed us. And, credit where credit is due, Etihad is picking up the tab.
11. 11pm, American Airlines has succeeded in contacting Etihad and securing a new flight to Sydney. The hotel says the hotel guests will be picked up the next morning to get on our flight to Abu Dhabi. It has been a long day but it has ended well. I take a shower in the only shower stall I’ve ever seen whose floor slants away from the drain. More towels.

Danube Cruise

ER

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So you have to figure that if you’re in Austria you’re going to waltz at some point in time. So having learned to waltz at Lois Pons dance studio when I was a teenager, plus taking the onboard refresher course in the ship’s lounge, I glided on to the River Beatrice’s dance floor with Marcia as a violin an viola squeezed out some Johan Strauss tunes. 

Being the creative type  I am, I added a Lindy twirl or two a dance designed for a ball gowns and tux. Well, the twirl turned into a tweak, an our next onshore tour was to the real St. Elsewhere of a Bratislava, Slovakia Hospital ER.
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I’m right handed. My right arm was dangling by my side with a hard lump like it’s a bundle of spaghetti and golf balls. The pain was hovering around 10 on a 1 to 10 scale.

Now the details here are going to get a little sketchy because the Slovakian language even written out is absolutely incomprehensible and unpronounceable. But the Uniworld staff, which is composed of many people from the Eastern European countries, was great. Veronica from the Ukraine found a hospital that was open over New Year’s weekend. She accompanied us translating everything that transpired. 

The hospital itself whose name was as usual unpronounceable–not that you’d ever have heard of it anyway–was an old Soviet-style institution now owned by a private religious sect. My only requirement was that they weren’t Druids. 

The receptionist, between bites of an apple she was eating, needed my passport and my medical insurance. As they didn’t have a Blue Shield or Medicaid or credit card appliqués on the window, I assumed, and she verified in Slovakian, that she just needed this information for her forms. I had to pay first and she handed us a bill for 761 Euros. Seemed kind of steep until we realized it was only €7.61, roughly 9 dollars and change. 

We were given a number as long as my Social Security number and I thought I’d be waiting a long time. But, within 20 minutes or so, I was ushered into a doctors office. He looked a little like a cross between Ben Casey and Dr. Kildair after the two of them and I had a fight. But he spoke English and had been to Saratoga Springs in New York. He had friends, he said, who had been to San Diego–although the thing that seemed to impress them most was a bust of the comedian Bob Hope statue. Huh?

He inspected my arm like a butcher prepping chicken wings and gave me an order for an X-ray. That department was nearby and had its own non-Apple-eating receptionist. Again, I had to pay first. 

The X-ray machine looked like it dated from the Cuban missile crisis. The technician dangled a lead apron from my lower parts and zapped me twice with the machine. But, modern technology had entered the picture in that the images were digital, and I was given a CD ROM of my x-ray as we left the department. 

Back to the doctor, where he looked at the X-ray and told me it was what he thought, badly sprained tendons–something called a DG impingement syndrome–medical speak is about as incomprehensible as Slovakian. He gave me a prescription for an anti-inflammatory that I’ve never heard of, and told me to keep my arm in mobile for two weeks – the remainder of our trip.  

Then we had to pay the rest of the bill. Marcia and I were hugely embarrassed as Americans, because the whole experience amounted to less than $35 American. And that sum didn’t just include all the hospital charges, the diagnosis, and the x-rays, but the prescription itself and two cab rides between the hospital and the ship.

Update two days later: the golf ball is now about the size of a marble, and my arm is less like spaghetti than elbow macaroni. We are enroute to Australia via Turkey and Abu Dhabi and shuttling around our luggage is a literal, but not excessive, pain. Marcia is doing most of the heavy lifting. Everyone looks at me like I’m a real shirker, and I smile and point to my arm, which looks perfectly normal. Then they look at me like I’m a complete idiot.