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December 30, 2019. Uzbek Mafia; Mar a Lago in Tashkent; Markets; Mosques

December 30, 2019

Greetings from Tashkent on the 30th of December

Where to begin…. First, a few pieces of information I didn’t mention in previous notes:

The Metro (pronounced “meeetro” – so now we can ask to find the station; Uzbekis do not seem familiar with any variations to pronunciation) is amazingly clean (almost immaculate) and very safe. Every station has at least two policemen (so far only males) at the entrance and every platform there are two more cops (sort of transit cops) inside the station (mostly they seem to chat with one another all day). There is no litter, no gum on the floors, no graffiti, no begging, no one sleeping in the station. And there is at least one babushka-clad sweeper on each platform — bending down with a small whisk-style brush and an antiquated dust bin made of metal. I think by now we’ve been in more than half of the stations and platforms and I can say with confidence that the above is true. The stations are a bit like museums.

Anyway, we’re quite proficient now changing trains and moving about without hesitation. There aren’t any elevators or escalators – only stairs, So, not sure what people with disabilities do. Clearly we haven’t seen any on the trains.

So, last night we asked the hotel for a recommendation for a local restaurant, with good food, casual, and located in a neighborhood. They suggested strongly that we go to Obi-hayot, which was about a 20-minute taxi ride from the hotel. The further we got, the more we thought we were truly headed into an interesting neighborhood and a small local restaurant. Alas, we finally arrived at Obi-hayot which is huge! We walk in and there was absolutely deafening music blasting.. but we learned there was a wedding going on and the music was in a private area (wedding looked like about 200 guests at least – the tables were set in a stepped fashion so that everyone could see the show. So we were escorted into a small supposedly quiet restaurant area. There were about 10 tables set for four to six people at each. About four tables were occupied. As soon as we sat down we knew we were in for an unexpected evening. There was a constant show going on… very loud.. with performers changing about every 10 minutes. It was like a bad cabaret; many of the performances were 1920-flappers and gangsters wearing striped zoot suits!

We’re pretty certain, based on two of the tables that this restaurant is part of the Uzbeki mafia. Two of the tables had men in their 60s with “dates” in their late 20s or early 30s. They were ordering up a storm, dancing from time to time… and the 60-year old guys were trying oh so hard to be cool. Then a Santa-style performer came out and tried to engage the audience, including us… in a strange set where he would sing (or scream) something and then he brought the mic to a table and you were supposed to copy.

We feigned ignorance and tried to ignore it all, but when the mic was in our face and everyone else (by now the only people left were the two tables of mafioso who had participated in the game)… we uttered something. The 60-year old guys were wearing tight jeans and tee shirts (with large bellies overflowing their belts); the women were all in very tight very short skirts with 4” spiked heels (needle-thin) and low cut tops. (I was clearly over-dressed in a black turtleneck sweater.) One of the guys wore a tee shirt that said “Working Hard at Hardly Working” in English. He was at a different table with his two dates… one a tall slender platinum blonde with a giant tattoo on her left shoulder that looked like a dragon.

Mike says that even the Sopranos would not find these guys classy enough to be part of their “family.”  Two of the guys looked like they probably have met up with Giuliani… and maybe Trump would be eating here if he were visiting Tashkent. It had a bit of a mix of the Catskills, Mar a Lago, Las Vegas. All of this group was vaping at some point in the evening.

Actually the food was good, and the evening could have been enjoyable. We were also hit up with a fee for the performance! We headed out as soon as we finished dinner (an eggplant appetizer salad; two kinds of manti; kebabs; and a sort of cheesecake for dessert).

Lots to say about today’s exploration of Chorsu Bazaar.. and I’ll try to write about it when we get back from tonight’s dinner.. at a restaurant we read about called National Food… which the hotel says is not really the name, but that’s how it’s written up in all of the guides we scanned.

More to come in a few hours.

Fern

Christmas (Late) and Arrival in TASHKENT December 27, 28, 2019

December 29, 2019

Hello and best wishes from Uzbekistan… or should I say “Salom va eng yaxshi tilaklar”

We had our very yummy Xmas dinner and gift exchange at Elizabeth’s on Thursday (December 27) with Mike’s whole family in attendance – Elizabeth, Julia and Julian along with Louis (two years old) and Ella (three months), and Emma and Hem, along with Finn (9 months) and Mike and me. Needless to say it was a bit intense and a lot of very high energy, mostly coming from Louis who is like an energizer bunny – moves from thing to thing and person to person and room to room with lightning speed and stamina.

The meal was great – foie gras on fig bread, blini with salmon, and assorted appetizers; braised duck legs, carrots, and wonderful peas with broad beans, and potatoes… followed by an assortment of desserts including chocolate cake, buche noel, a great raisin bread pudding… and lots of wine and champagne. Gift exchange was mostly focused on the three kids but the adults also exchanged presents. I think we wound up with enough wrapping paper to fuel an entire house. The weather gods were with us, so it didn’t rain (although it was overcast most of the day). It’s been interesting for us to be around three kids so much, but we survived.. and truly enjoyed it all.

We headed back to the hotel at about 11:00 pm and tackled packing so we could be done and head to Julia and Julian’s for early lunch on Saturday before heading to the airport for our mammoth travel to Tashkent later in the day. JuJu (as Julia and Julian are called by friends) recently moved into a fantastic apartment in downtown Geneva, right near the lake and really in the center of everything – a perfect urban residence: high ceilings (10’ at least), three large bedrooms, a dining room and living room, and very modernized kitchen. The building is from the early 20th Century with floor to ceiling ornate glass doors (windows) throughout; wood floors.. and a long hallway that Louis has turned into a speedway of sorts to ride his various vehicles. We had a wonderful lunch with great cheeses and meats along with salad and lasagna. Julian (ever the Frenchman) told us to taste one of the cheeses (which was wonderful) and remarked and questioned us about where we thought the cheese came from. Shockingly to Julian, it was from the US!! Everyone was there for lunch so it was more of a little farewell (apparently until Spring (??) when Julia and Julian have decided to get married as she is sporting a truly beautiful diamond ring). But timing can change, so we shall see – might be fall.

We hopped into a taxi and headed to the Geneva Airport. We were flying from Geneva to Istanbul, changing planes in Istanbul for Tashkent. We had just one hour to make the connection (and for our bags to do the same)… and by now we knew that the new Istanbul Airport is extremely large… probably a 45 minute walk from one end to the other… We dashed off the plane and headed to the gate for Tashkent (fortunately it was all on Turkish Air… got to the gate just in time — but of course there was a delay.. So all that effort for naught.

Anyway, on this longer second leg (which flew through the night), we had upgraded ourselves to business class so we could at least relax, if we couldn’t really sleep. We landed in Tashkent at about 7:30 am, rather tired… and then all the fun began!

We stopped at the ATM machine and withdrew cash in Uzbek “Som”… 10,000 som equals $1.00. So taking $100.00 out in the ATM machine gave us each one million som, which they dole out at the machines in 50,000 som bills… Thus my wallet is so fat I cannot close it. Then we navigated the taxi situation. We stopped at a taxi desk, and although they said they didn’t have any taxis for the next 20 minutes (which we didn’t want to wait), they told us that the ride should cost 40,000 som ($4.00).. We walked out of the terminal where there were hordes of Uzbekis waiting for family and friends.. and also some important person. There were people who had laid out rugs forming a walkway for someone to walk through.. and they had also covered these rugs with white sheets to keep them clean in case someone like us walked on them. No they were not for sale. We noticed there was a large group of women and men dressed in “holy” clothing who were gathering up their luggage from a different flight. They seemed to be circling one guy, so maybe he was some important person. Anyway, police made these people move a bit so that Mike and I could get to the taxi line.. When we got there, there were about 20 taxis waiting and everyone wanted to take us… but when we asked the price they all said 100,000 som ($10.00). While the amount wasn’t the issue, as seasoned travelers, we hate to feel taken advantage of… We said we were told 40,000 som (all of this being done without any real language compatibility) and we were willing to pay 50,000 ($5) but not $10… Then one taxi driver said or rather motioned that he’d take us for the 50,000 som.. And off we went to his taxi which was parked in a long line of taxis just outside the airport.. waiting to get inside to be on the taxi line. I guess he figured 50,000 som was a good deal since he’d have to wait about an hour in line to possibly get a $10 fare. Anyway, he drove us to the hotel and all was good.

Because we knew we’d be arriving very early in the morning, exhausted from a messy trip – and because we really couldn’t find any interesting local hotels in Tashkent — we had decided while in the states to stay at the Hyatt Regency. We also remembered from our travels in Tibet a few years ago that sometimes in these countries it’s good to be in a bit of a reliable location and have some cushy service. We knew that the remainder of the trip in Uzbekistan would be in very small, local inns. So, here we are at a very new Hyatt with spacious rooms, broad corridors, well-appointed furnishings, and lots of service. We grabbed breakfast before heading to the room and then settled in (I settled in, unpacked, and started this note… Mike went to sleep). At 1:00, we decided to start our exploration of Tashkent (of course it was raining)… We decided to head to see the Metro stations, which are famous and you’ll soon see why. Originally, we thought we’d take the train to random stops — get off and see neighborhoods, similar to what we had done in many other cities – but given the rain we just rode the subway, getting off to photograph stations and getting back on… transferring to other lines and doing the same thing.

But first we needed to find the closest station and that turned into quite a project. We stopped police and random people but no one could give us information because they didn’t understand what we were asking. We did find the station — Mustaqilliq Maydoni ! It costs less than 14 cents to take the subway anywhere as long as you don’t emerge onto the street.. Once you leave the station and go back you have to purchase another token for another 14 cents. Anyway, the big deal is that the stations are incredible – ornate, often with themes (like the cosmonauts or Pushkin); and needless to say they are immaculate (as are the streets we’ve seen thus far). The Metro has 29 stations and three different lines – red, green, and blue. It was fairly simple to navigate (except that we couldn’t pronounce any of the station names). People bustling about on the trains could almost be anywhere (well, sort of) – with teens wearing ear buds, and most people with cell phones (Chinese brands), and everyone wearing down since it’s chilly.

Tashkent is interesting in that it suffered very sever damage following an earthquake in 1966. The old Soviet Union immediately began rebuilding – some of it done to replicate what had been in the city, but also creating Soviet blocks and some call the city’s style Soviet Modernism.  The area where the Hyatt is located is a lot like my memories of Moscow so many years ago.. long broad boulevards. By the way, en route from the airport to the hotel we saw babushka-clad women sweeping the roadways with brooms that had extremely long branches for handles.

The subway was opened in 1977 and there is still some expansion going on. The architecture and decoration of each station is tied to the station’s name. Apparently, prominent architects and artists of Uzbekistan were involved in the design of each station. They used marble, metal engravings, plastic, granite, ceramics, and more. Some stations were renamed after the fall of communism. After meandering different stations for a few hours, we then had to seriously figure out how to get back to our station, which we did. Then as we strolled to the hotel we walked through a somewhat bizarre Christmas (or Winter) Fair, with all sorts of people dressed as Santa or Father Time and also Winter Princesses. There were lots of ornate light structures as well. In spite of the rain people were out with kids.. and the place was a photographer’s heaven with everyone taking pictures of everyone else. And there were “official” photographers offering to take “professional” pictures for a fee. We strolled in the rain taking our own pictures of people taking pictures.. and suddenly we were stopped by a young woman.

She was a reporter for Tashkent News and wanted to interview us for the nightly news program. Her English was extremely weak, but we agreed.. We were soaking wet, so don’t think we will look too great. Her questions were quite simplistic and expected:  What did we think of Tashkent and why had we come. She was quite excited to learn we were Americans and from California !! So, stay tuned, maybe the piece will go viral (I pray not)…

OK.. that’s it for today.. lots more to come as we explore the city over the coming two days and then rent a car to drive to Samarkand and Bhukara.

Best –

Fern

Christmas in Geneva 2019 (12/25 and 12/26/19)

December 26, 2019

Greetings from chilly but remarkably sunny Geneva – Joyeux Noël et bonnes fêtes
25 Décembre 2019
Short note today…Quick breakfast at our new favorite place down the street, Christie’s Bakery … a walk in the very very quiet Christmas Day streets of Geneva…. Back to the hotel to get some work done (work!), and then with buche noel (from Christie’s) and fig bread (purchased at the Christmas Fair) in hand – we headed to Carouge for Part One of Christmas dinner at Elizabeth’s.

Arrived as Finn rose from his nap (Mike decided he want’s Finn’s schedule – three naps each day) and we all settled in for a long afternoon and evening of eating, catching up, conversation about politics in US, Europe, and elsewhere… and watching Finn do whatever 9-month-olds do. We left Carouge at about 10 pm and much to Mike’s chagrin, we walked back to the hotel – about 45 minutes. Felt good after all that food and drink. It was about 45 degrees but felt warmer.

 

26 Décembre 2019
Now that we are regulars at Christie’s, we stopped in to compliment them on the Buche Noel (which was a chocolate version) and to have yet another breakfast. Then I headed for a leisurely stroll to downtown (about 15-minute walk) and Mike headed to the Ethnographic Museum.

Then we met up at the Museum of Contemporary Art (MAMCA) – but first a stop at a little ramen shop for lunch and then the museum (first things first !)…. The museum is located in an industrial building and the spaces are quite interesting. Unfortunately, the art was less than exciting so we walked through and then walked back to the hotel for a 30-minute pit stop, before heading to meet with some family friends for a drink and then to dinner at Lipp (a predominantly fish restaurant, with a specialty in raw fish platters).

We visited with Elizabeth’s friend, Mattie, at her wonderful architect-designed house. Mattie, who is about 85, moved to Geneva in 1958 with her then-husband who moved to Switzerland for his job. Prior to that they lived in NY for about a decade. She’s originally from Rhode Island and still maintains a home there. She’s incredibly well traveled. We discussed European politics and naturally US politics, including the unimaginable situation in which the US finds itself. After a quick apertif, we left to get Emma and Finn back home in time for bath and bed. Then we (Mike, Elizabeth, and me) walked through the park-like walkway (a sort of right of way that meanders) from Elizabeth’s house into the main street of Carouge to catch a tram into town for our quiet dinner (sans children). It’s only a 10 minute tram ride to downtown.. It was raining the whole time.

We ate at the Michelin Star Brasserie Lipp, which is modeled on the ages-old Brasserie Lipp in Paris (6th ar) and I think the menu might be the same. Not sure if there is any official relationship. Anyway it’s a really classic-looking brasserie, oned with mirrors at table height and several small rooms.. it looks very 1920s inside, although it is actually on the ground floor of a modern style building.  Waiters are in black jackets and long white aprons – old-style ambience.

We began with the LIPP Platter of raw (and a few cooked) fish – huge. Everything from fresh oysters (their specialty), lobster, mussels, clams, snails, shrimp and grey shrimp, a bowl of periwinkles (which were very difficult to manipulate!), and more. We also had an escargot starter. Frankly, the starters would have been a sufficient meal… but we did have main courses. Elizabeth had the baccalau and Mike and I shared  a seafood couscous. We passed on dessert but did share a wonderful bottle of Sancerre.

We opted for a taxi (even though the walk to our hotel was only about 10 minutes) because of the rain.

More tomorrow when we have the delayed Christmas meal and spend time with all three children (under the age of two!)

Best – for continued Hanukah greetings.

Fern

Geneva. Christmas Eve 2019

December 24, 2019

Christmas Eve
2019

Merry merry and happy happy.

After catching up on a bit of much needed sleep, we strolled to Geneva’s annual Christmas Market located in the Parc Bastion. En route we stopped for breakfast in a cute little bakery about a block from the hotel. Turns out it has only been open three months. The husband/wife couple who own the bakery were very friendly. She’s the baker and he runs the front end. Interestingly, as we listened to him speak, it was clear he had a totally American accent or rather he was definitely American. Turns out he grew up in Palo Alto; his dad was in tech. Not sure how he wound up in Geneva, but pretty sure the wife is French (or Swiss-French). Anyway, the breakfast was great and we’ll go back again, including to pick up a wonderful cake (we ordered a buche noel) tomorrow morning for Christmas lunch at Elizabeth’s house.

It was raining (winters in Geneva are really pretty wet and grey) but we decided to walk to the Christmas Fair which was located at Parc Bastion which is only about ¾ mile from here. The Fair was cute, with lots of little wooden cabins that they bring into the park – with each cabin holding a different vender – foods (very international) and crafts made by local artisans. There are also small wooden pavilions scattered about – some covered and some open air – with small sculptural metal grates into which patrons could stuff wood which was stacked about… little warming stations.  There was also a full-blown restaurant inside a large log house and a full blown bar. There were rides for kids and chess boards and other games. Mike actually made a purchase of some environmentally-friendly eyeglass frames made of wood and leather. A very very different look for him in shape and color. But now he’s afraid no optometrist in Oakland will be willing to insert lenses into these frames. We shall see. In any case they are really cool.

After strolling the entire fair, we headed to the restaurant whose focus was – naturally – fondue. We opted for soup and risotto, not wanting to have that much bread and cheese. We then strolled around and headed back to the hotel to dry off a bit and then take a tram to meet Emma and Hem and Finn at the Museum of Natural History.

Somehow we got a little lost and went in the completely opposite direction on the tram, but realized very quickly and jumped off at the first stop. However, although asking several people, we couldn’t find the street where you could get the tram in the reverse direction. Eventually after walking a bout a half mile, we finally got onto a bus that took us to the museum. But, because it was Christmas Eve, the museum closed earlier than posted so it was closing as we arrived. But we met Emma and Hem and Finn as they exited and we strolled to the lake as the rain had stopped.. and went into a little café at the lake for hot chocolate. Then we strolled a bit more and all boarded the same tram, although they went on beyond us. So we had a good amount of Finn-time!

Given the weather and the hour, Emma, Hem, and Elizabeth opted to eat at home and Mike and I walked to a local Chinese restaurant for that Jewish Christmas Eve tradition. It was truly a little hole in the wall place – with only about 5 tables and the usual extensive pages long menu with some interesting translations from Chinese to French to English! I’d rate it “fair to middling.” And while about four of the tables were filled, I don’t think there were any other Jews eating. All tables were occupied by Asians (not to stereotype some might have been Jewish, but given that they were all young couples and not families, I’m going to guess they were not doing the Jewish traditional dinner).  We strolled back to the hotel after dinner in the chilly Geneva evening.

Tomorrow we’ll head to Carouge (a sort of a suburb within the city of Geneva) to have a holiday lunch at Elizabeth’s – a sort of pre-Christmas, since we’ll do the more official meal and gift exchange on Thursday, December 27th when Julia and Julian and family return from Bordeaux.

More tomorrow and hoping for clear skies.

Fern

Istanbul and on to Geneva. December 23, 2019

December 24, 2019

Greetings- Happy Hanukah!

We ended our stay in Istanbul with a delightful dinner at a traditional Turkish restaurant – with a wide assortment of mezze (we picked ceviche, a tomato salad, an octopus salad, stuffed zucchini, spicy eggplant, and a pepper salad – and for the main course we had the monkfish cooked in parchment paper. The restaurant is aptly called “Meze” and it was started just a few years ago by three architects who like food (perhaps better than buildings). We walked to the restaurant and walked back to the Georges. The little restaurant (seats about 25 people) is directly across from the Pera Palace Hotel (which we considered as an option). The Pera Palace is where Agatha Christie wrote the famous book, Murder on the Orient Express!

It was pleasantly cool during our time in Istanbul – great travel weather – but we know it will not last as we move on to both Geneva and then Uzbekistan.

It was great to return to Istanbul, even for such a brief time – to see the seven hills and the thousands of mosques that dot the city, to eat spectacularly well, to stroll around. But, it made me think that perhaps a longer trip to Istanbul (and a return to various other parts of the country) should be part of the bucket list. With its more than 3,000 mosques (with spectacular ones situated on each of the seven hills of the city) and its interesting Asian and European mix, its history, and of course its food – It’s a fascinating city even if only for a short time. Of course, there’s also the jailed journalists, lack of free press and media, detaining students who protest Erdogan, obstruction by police of construction workers protesting poor working conditions, and gross human rights violations of Uyghurs. So, the historic beauty of the city, the warmth of the people, and did I already mention the great food? Needs always to be understood in context – yet it’s so easy to romanticize as an outsider dipping into the country for fleeting moments.

We woke early on Monday to get to the very new, and very large Istanbul Airport to catch our Turkish Air flight. The airport (IST) is about an hour from the city and I gather it was a controversial project and involved displacement, corruption, and delays (sound familiar?). It’s like a mega mall – making the large quantity of shopping at Heathrow, Hong Kong, Singapore, and other airports pale in comparison. I’m told there is nearly 600,000 sq ft of shopping, not counting eateries. Anyway, as a result, the walks are very long to get to the planes, and the airport designers (in addition to making vastly high ceilings which help to balance the array of glitter, color, and lights coming at you) have built in many different stopping points for selfies and setups for photography… such as the one I’m pictured in above – getting ready to fly!

The check-in and boarding process was made fairly simple since Turkish Air treats Star Alliance Gold members quite nicely with special lines, early boarding, etc. The three-and-a-half-hour flight was fine; Turkish Air still serves food to all passengers regardless of class. And the arrival was simple, including finding our luggage immediately! But the lines in Geneva were long for customs (longer actually for EU and Swiss than for the “autres” like us.) We settled into the Tiffany Hotel in the arts district, close to the old town. It has about 60 rooms and is quiet and a bit old fashioned. We’ve stayed here before and know our way around – it’s close to the tram to Carouges which is where the family is.

We then hopped into a taxi to head to see Elizabeth, Hem, Emma, and little Finn (who is now 9 months old and of course totally adorable). Emma, (Mike’s niece) Hem (her husband), and Finn live in London and are here for the holidays; Julia, Mike’s other niece (who actually lives in Geneva) will arrive on the 26th with partner (now fiancé) and Louis (2 years old) and Ella (3 months old). They are in Bordeaux spending Christmas with Julian’s family… complicated. Anyway, we will all be together on the 27th and 28th when we will celebrate the holiday and make believe it is Christmas Day.

We had a wonderful casual meal cooked by Elizabeth – straight from Alice Water’s Chez Panisse cookbook!

We got back to the hotel around 11 and were actually quite exhausted. It was also a two hour change for us, so it was more like 1:00 am… although frankly I don’t think we really have a body time anymore.

I woke up early to finish this note… Today, we will keep it low key and I think we will head to the annual Christmas Market at Parc Bastion (about an 8 minute walk from the hotel) and we might even do a Jewish Christmas Eve tonight – Chinese food and a movie (something I did as a child every Christmas, along with lots of other Jewish families who didn’t celebrate Christmas – not sure how the tradition began, but I know that in San Francisco there is the Kung Pao Kosher Comedy Show held at a Chinese restaurant for the past 30 years or so. What I’ve always been told is that the practice of eating Chinese food on Christmas Eve goes back about a century…  and that it began in New York City at the turn of the century when Jewish immigrants and Chinese immigrants found themselves living in close quarters on the Lower East Side. One common feature was that neither celebrated Christmas. So Chinese restaurant owners kept their restaurants open and Jews came to eat there and it began to be a tradition. Not sure how good Chinese food is here in Geneva, but it’s such an international city I’d imagine it will be fine. (It’s still in the planning stage, so it could change).

In our case, it’s because we are having the Christmas dinner and gift exchange on the 27th when everyone will be here in Geneva.

OK.. that’s it.

Have a wonderful Christmas Eve and Hanukah – be it at home or in a Chinese restaurant.

Fern

December 21, 2019: Istanbul

December 22, 2019

Greetings or as they say here in Istanbul ”Merhaba!”

Thanks for all the good karma regarding our luggage. We received the bags at our hotel in Istanbul last night. It’s been hectic here in one of our favorite cities. We’re staying at the Hotel Georges, a delightful 21-room, 150-year-old former residence of a prominent physician/psychiatrist. It’s located on a very narrow, cobblestone street in the maze of the Galata District and the Beyoglu neighborhood. It’s four stories (and we are on the top floor with a delightful little balcony) and they have a rooftop restaurant – where after our ordeal with the bags and getting from the airport to the hotel (at around 10 pm) we decided to try it, rather than strolling for another restaurant. Food was great. We shared two appetizers and a main course of octopus (which was prepared with a light citrus sauce, but with a bit of spice).

It was a lot easier to settle into the room without our baggage! So we crashed at about midnight or so (although we did tune into CNN to get a little overview of what the Democratic Presidential Debate was like.

On Saturday morning we had breakfast up on the roof – which has great views across the Golden Horn and also into the maze of streets of the Galata District. The weather is fantastic – last two times we were here in winter, it rained and was pretty cold. But it’s been in the 60s which was also helpful since most of my sweaters were in the luggage that hadn’t arrived. Since we are only here for 2.5 days (as a transfer point between Geneva and Tashkent – long story about the route we are taking), we decided not to revisit any of the major points (Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, or even the Galata Tower which is basically around the corner, etc.) and to stroll through our neighborhood (first time we’ve stayed on the European side of Istanbul) and then cross the Galata Bridge to visit the one place I’d always go to when in Istanbul – the Grand Bazaar.

We strolled though many small streets and passageways, and eventually made our way over the bridge, passing about 200 fisherman (and women – something I don’t think I saw ten years ago) and then survived the hordes of Turks going through the tunnels to get across major roadways and over to the packed streets around the Grand Bazaar. Made it back to the Georges just as the evening call to prayer sounded outside. And then we decided on dinner. Actually it was Mike’s birthday, so we initially planned to go to Asitane – and interesting house-based restaurant that prepares food from the Ottoman period. We had eaten there before and were fascinated by the menu. But it was very difficult to get a taxi and the very friendly and interesting manager of the hotel suggested an amazing restaurant within walking distance of the hotel, so we opted for that one – Yeni Lokanta and we were not disappointed.

We feasted on four appetizers and the octopus for the main course. It’s apparently octopus season and all the restaurants are featuring an octopus dish.  We had what they called Kefta Decomposed which was a wonderful steak tartar that came with a crusted potato on the top – in the shape of a golf ball – and when you cut into it there was an egg with the yolk totally raw and swimming into the meat; manti (of course!); a fried local cheese with honey, chili oil, tamarind, and hazelnuts; lamb sweetbreads with some kind of carrot spread and walnuts. The meal was great and it was a much livelier place than Asitane would have been. We walked back to the Georges, admiring the amazing Galata Tower always in our view.

Oh… my gift to Mike – a personal trainer at God’s Gym in Oakland.. an interesting, old fashioned gym without the newfangled machines. So be on the lookout for a new Mike (but give him some time…)

Today, we started with breakfast on the rooftop again (shakshuka for me; poached eggs over spicy avocado for Mike) and then headed out to visit the Rustem Pasha Mosque which we had heard was quite beautiful and much less of a tourist attraction than the major mosques. This one is located amid a thriving market with hundreds of stalls surrounding the complex and shops built into the wall as well. We walked from our hotel (about 1.5 miles) and finally located the entrance to the mosque – through a narrow passageway within the market and up a flight of stairs. But alas, the mosque is undergoing some restoration, so it was closed. We then strolled to the Spice Market and stumbled onto a beautifully restored courtyard that had recently been restored and converted into an outdoor café circled by small shops that sell the same things on the menu – baklava, halvah, coffee, teas, and a large assortment of nuts, along with traditional coffeepots and other tea and coffee paraphernalia.

We are now trying to decide where to eat (Sundays are challenging) and then need to re-pack (fortunately since the bags didn’t arrive with us, we really didn’t unpack too much). Our flight tomorrow to Geneva is in the morning.

Now for a bit of local politics … What we are hearing is that while there is grave concern about Erdogan, there is also great excitement about the new mayor of Istanbul – a proven progressive and the successful campaigns of progressives in several of the major Turkish cities. There is concern about the growing authoritarianism throughout Europe, and shock and dismay about what is happening in the US. Trump is described as a total fool and embarrassment. And in conversation, people bring up the fact that it is impossible to understand how the US cannot have universal healthcare. No big surprise here.

Take care

Next travelogue will be from Geneva.

Fern

December 20, 2019: Trials and Tribulations of Travel

December 20, 2019

Greetings from Istanbul, Turkey (where it is a bit past midnight). As always, feel free to read or toss; keep or pass on to others with an interest in travel.

We just started our 2019 travels (as many of you know, we generally take a fairly complex trip in December – although after this year, now that I am no longer teaching and not tied to the academic calendar, we are considering moving the annual trip to September/October – stay tuned). This has been a more difficult trip to plan than other years and you’ll find out more as my travel notes continue in subsequent days. Anyway, the crux of the trip is Uzbekistan and Azerbaijan. But we wanted to be in Geneva to celebrate the holidays with Mike’s family. (One of his nieces lives in London but comes to Geneva for Christmas, and the other lives in Geneva. And this year, there are three grand nieces / nephews under the age of two!)

To fly to Uzbekistan (Tashkent) one needs to go through either Istanbul or Moscow. Having been to both cities we easily selected Istanbul as our connecting link; and because we would be going to Geneva for several days prior to Uzbekistan, we decided to do a three-day layover in Istanbul (for Mike’s birthday on the 21st of December). Since we’ve been here before we figured we could spend these three short days exploring neighborhoods we hadn’t visited on prior trips. So we were excited about this little “travel interruption.”  We had an entire suitcase of gifts, so we needed to check a bag—something we have not done in decades. We also had a bit of a dilemma in that —not being accustomed to checking bags, we decided to buy luggage locks. Then we couldn’t figure out how to set the code. Mike blamed all of this on defective locks (!!) but it was clear that we just didn’t understand the directions(although they were written for a fourth grader). Once at the airport, waiting to check the damn bags, I ran to a shop and bought three luggage locks that used KEYS! We were able to make two work and one bag wound up being lockless.

Anyway, after flying for about 25 hours (following an intense 24 hours of trying to finish office project-related tasks, sending off the annual FTA card, running around to get last minute “necessities” for travel, and meeting with an attorney about our will (!!), we packed into the wee hours – not quite as organized as usual, but completing the tasks at hand. I finished at about 2 am. Mike crashed by midnight.

Since we knew we had to bring an extra suitcase to carry the gifts – mostly for the kids – we figured we might as well check our own suitcases and just bring computer bags as carry-ons. Thus we checked in three bags, two of which somehow got connected to Mike’s ticket. Our flight to Paris (where we would change planes to Istanbul) was to leave at 2:25 pm, and to board at 1:40. The plane boarded at SFO pretty much on time and given our status we were on the plane early. But 2:25 came and went. At about 3:00 we were informed there was a problem with the oxygen masks. The issue would be fixed by 3:30.. and then 4:00 … and finally we had the go-ahead signal at about 4:40. While we had a fairly cushy layover at Charles deGaulle, each successive delay tightened that window. We landed at CDG at 11:30 a.m. and after some totally screwy instructions, we found our way to our connecting gate just as it was boarding.

The Turkish Air flight was pleasant, although Business Class seems to mean that you are in the same seats as the back of the plane, except that the middle seat is blocked. Food was actually good on Turkish Air.

Well after 26 hours, we landed in Istanbul (the airport is very new; not the same one we came to on our last trip here in 2010. Anyway, one of the three checked bags arrived (Mike’s!) and the other two were not on our flight. After strolling the extremely large baggage claim area, we resigned and went to Turkish Air Baggage Claim. They seem to feel that the two bags didn’t make the connection in Paris to Istanbul. They gave us a phone number and we headed to our hotel. We were really tired but got the carry on bags up to the room and then headed upstairs for dinner. Turns out that the hotel (Hotel Georges)is quite delightful and they have a wonderful rooftop restaurant and bar.

We ate and then Mike headed down to our room to crash and I sipped my wine glazing out to the wonderful skyline and twinkling lights of this 15,000,000+ city. Glad to be here. Hoping our bags come (one of the missing bags contains all of the presents; the other has all my gear and all kinds of work that must be done on the trip.

Will report back tomorrow.

Fern

10/28/2019. Farewell to Amsterdam and the Netherlands — We shall return; An active day of eating, discussing social housing, and more

October 28, 2019

  

Packing to leave – Greetings from Amsterdam one last time.

It’s been a great last day. After spending a bit of time in the early morning doing some work (yes, work!) and a bit of organizing so that packing won’t be too awful later in the evening, we headed out for a wonderful last lunch. We took the tram and changed to a bus (did it all correctly, today, no mistakes! Getting to be a local) to get to DeKas Restaurant which is located in a wonderful greenhouse just inside Frankendael Park. Apparently it was slated for demolition and the owners decided to repurpose the greenhouse and these restauranteurs decided to use part for a working greenhouse and the other part for a charming, spacious restaurant. They also have a 4-acre farm on the outskirts of Amsterdam so all of the food is sustainably grown. The restaurant’s specialty is combining sweet and sour flavors.. so they use interesting vinegars in many of the preparations. “Picked in the morning, served in the afternoon” is the mantra here.

It was a wonderful meal – (big on various kinds of kale!) – and each portion was plated like a work of art. Interesting conversation with the waiter who suggested we try a Dutch wine! It was quite good. (White). He said the Dutch wine business is in the early stages but that given global warming they expect the wine regions to change and that the Netherlands will become a significant player in the wine industry.

From there we boarded a bus again and headed to the Tassenmuseum – a small museum devoted to exhibiting handbags and luggage. Apparently Heinz en Hendrikje Ivo had collected small antiques. One day, Ivo found a leather handbag from the 1820s, made of tortoise shell and was fascinated by the beauty and started researching the history of the handbag and went on to build an amazing collection which they initially showed at their house (turning it into a little museum). Some years later the museum moved to its present location in a canal house in 2007.

The exhibit is very well done and the collection probably has more than a thousand items – from 17th century bags to current, from a green handbag used by Madonna when she attended an event in London to the purse carried by Teresa May. We strolled the exhibit which was fascinating and well documented, and then hopped onto a bus to take us to Het Schip – a social housing project in northwest Amsterdam.

Het Schip  (the “Ship”) is an apartment building in the Spaarndammerbuurt district that reflects the architectural style of the Amsterdam School of Expressionist architecture. It is considered perhaps the single most important example of this style of architecture using brick expressionism. It was designed by Michael de Klerk and it vaguely resembles or reminds one of a ship – hence the name. While there is a huge amount of design integrity, it’s quite different from different angles. It was designed in 1919 to house working class residents in 109 units and to include a meeting hall, and a post office (which is now a museum of the Amsterdam School.

In the 19th and early 20th century, Amsterdam faced a housing shortage, with many working-class people living in cramped quarters – often without electricity, heat, or running water.  Often several people lived in one room. In the early 1900s (1901, I think), the Dutch government passed the National Housing Act (Woningwet). This law set high standards for housing and resulted in the demolition of old, inadequate tenement-style buildings and also created new housing reflecting the desired living conditions and were developed with prices that made them accessible to Amsterdam’s low-income citizens. This law also set aside financial resources for the development of other low-income housing. One of the affordable housing developments created after the passage of this act was the Spaarndammerbuurt, where Het Schip and several other Amsterdam School social housing projects are located. Most of this housing was funded by cooperative housing associations and workers collectives, socialist organizations, and religious groups. One of these groups commissioned the architect, Michel de Klerk, to design and build three blocks of “proletarian housing,” including Het Schip.

The apartments in this complex reflected a radical change regarding living conditions for the poor and working class people in the early 1900s. The units included several rooms rather than the typical single-room occupancy that was common at the time. They also included flush toilets and had good natural light and ventilation from windows. Ground-floor units had gardens. The building also housed a post office, and a telephone box.

We had planned to visit, and then found out that the little museum that explains the building was closed on Mondays. We decided to go anyway, thinking that seeing it all from the outside would be fine.

So, we got there and were walking around the perimeter and then I decided to try the main door (leading to public spaces) – It was open so we walked in.. We were checking out the lobby (cautiously, knowing that perhaps we weren’t supposed to be there) when a woman appeared. She asked how we got in and we explained that the door was open. She was a bit flustered but then we struck up a conversation. Turns out she founded the little museum and is very active in the social housing movement. Apparently one day she stopped at the post office and admired the building and was told it was to be demolished. She thought that was a terrible situation and fought to reclaim it as a museum to honor Dutch architecture, Het Schip, and social housing. She’s been managing it ever since. She gave a us a quick history of the place including the fact that there had been a small school at the site and deKlerk literally designed Het Schip to be built around that school – above it and adjacent to it and behind it. The school is no longer there and additional housing was created.

The craftsmanship, details, and overall design are amazing to see – an honor to the residents. Alice (the woman) is feisty and intelligent. She talked to us about more recent struggles to ensure that social housing will remain forever in the hands of low income people and not go the way of the UK which privatized units within their social housing and made efforts to increase the amount of privatization. We talked about the need for affordable housing in the US and when we finally bid adieu to Alice she cheered us for caring about this issues amid (as she called it) these “Trumpies” who want to destroy civilization! We promised to tell everyone we know to come to visit Het Schip – so I am doing that here. Don’t go on Mondays because the museum is closed and you might not luck out to meet Alice.

She let us stroll the courtyard, and then we walked the entire perimeter.  From what I can tell, the design ensures that every resident has their own “front door” on street level, even though some doors lead to staircases that lead to second or third level units. Resident gardens are thriving and the entire complex is very well maintained; looks like lots of kids and families as well as singles.

As it got dark (we had to change our clocks on Saturday night so the sun sets at around 5:30 now), we headed to the bus and back to the Central Station, from which we could walk back to our hotel. We just finished dinner (decided to eat at the hotel so that we wouldn’t lose much time) and now I’m wrapping this up and shutting down, packing, and headed to bed – Need to head to airport at 7 am.

See you all stateside. Hope the fires are subsiding (but we are well aware of the realities – it’s all over the news here).

Best –

Fern

 

Trains, Trams, Buses, Boats, Feet, and More. 10/27/2019

October 27, 2019

Greetings from an exhausted American in Amsterdam

We started our day with a relaxing (although a bit rushed) breakfast at the hotel, and then headed to the train station (Amsterdam Central) to catch a train to Rotterdam where we would then supposedly find out how to get to Kinder Dijk – which is about 15 kilometers from Rotterdam. It is the site of a “community” of 19 windmills begun about 270 years ago and are now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Many of us associate windmills with the Netherlands, and here at Kinder Dijk they blend seamlessly with the landscape – and are functional and performing an important role in the ecology of the region. Strolling the 800-acre site and wandering over small bridges and into marshlands and along paths that take visitors to the front steps of 250-year old windmills, following and crossing over the canals is transformative.

Construction of hydraulic works for agricultural drainage and settlement began here in the Middle Ages and has actually continued to the present day. Kinder Dijk is an example of the typical features associated with this kind of technology – dykes, reservoirs, pumping stations, administrative buildings and absolutely stunning and well-preserved windmills. It’s known that the Netherlands has had centuries-old challenges with rising waters and the collection of windmills at Kinder Dijk was constructed to address flooding. These windmills sit on a waterlogged plot of land surrounded by two rivers. The area has always been threatened by floods. So, to keep the water at bay, residents built a series of what we might call “earthworks” way back in the 13th century. These dykes, sluices, and canals channeled water away from homes and farms and protected the area for generations. But by the 18th Century, this system needed to be updated and the set of windmills were constructed, beginning in 1740. They are extremely large and were designed to drain the wetlands. By harnessing the wind, the windmills transferred water from lower parts of Kinder Dijk into a higher basin that flowed into a nearby river. This created an expansive irrigation system that still exists today.

OK.. So it was worth what it took to get there.

We walked to the Amsterdam Central Station, bought one-way tickets to Rotterdam (we weren’t certain what route we’d take to get back to Amsterdam), and had a pleasant trip to this other, lesser-visited city. But after we came up to the Rotterdam Central Station, there wasn’t any information as to how to go the next 10 or so miles to Kinder Dijk. We had heard there was a waterbus from Rotterdam, but there isn’t any water close to the station. We also heard there was a bus, but there wasn’t any information. So we found our way to the info desk and were told we missed the waterbus and they only run every two hours. They guy was helpful and said we could take Tram 23 to Beverwaard and then there would be a bus that would get us to Kinder Dijk. The tram would leave from the station in 8 minutes (transportation here is amazingly efficient – 8 minutes means exactly 8 minutes). We literally went straight to the tram, without a stop at the ladies room.  We hopped on the tram without a ticket, but we were able to purchase it on the tram – credit card only (as it is everywhere here), and marveled at some of the architecture we could see out the window. Rotterdam (I don’t think I have ever been there before) is clearly a re-made city, following WWII, with lots of good architecture, interesting housing, clean roads, good transportation, and friendly people. We knew that we were supposed to get to our stop at (exactly 1:01). As the time approached, Carol said she thought we had seen the stop before – sure enough we had taken the wrong tram (21 instead of 23) and we had actually now come full circle. The staff person who rides the tram explained that we were on the 21 not the 23.. so she guided us to go a few more stops and then deboard and cross over and take #23; we had lost about 20 minutes.

Boarded the 23 and headed to the correct stop and then tried to find the bus (#489) being extra careful to get on the right bus. But there weren’t any busses in sight. Then we spotted what looked like a bus yard and figured our bus must be in there. We went through some gates (which we thought was strange) and then passed dozens of trams and went into an office, where we were told we were not supposed to be in that area at all. We left and then realized (or thought) we were totally locked in. We were in a tram yard – where all the trams begin or end their trips, come for repairs, etc. The whole setting was eerie. As we approached the automatic doors that open when a tram comes, we spotted a fence door and tried to open it, but it was locked. Fortunately, before we could freak out, a tram drove up and the gates opened. The tram driver stopped – amazed that we were standing there and asked what we were doing. We explained and he looked incredulous, but he opened the gate for us and we then went once again to find bus 489. We spotted a little bus shelter and sat and waited. The bus ride was about 25 minutes and wound through some lovely villages, canals, and farm areas.

Eventually (3 hours after we began the 1.5 hour journey), we arrived at Kinder Dijk to stroll and to stare in awe.

After about two hours, we realized we had to return,. When we bought our tickets for Kinder Dijk, we inquired about the return trip and were told the last waterbus to Rotterdam would be at 4:00 and that was way too early for us. We were then told we could take a very small ferry across some canals to catch a different waterbus and that ferry (the last one) would depart at 5:14. This seemed perfect. We got to the “dock” at about 5:10 when an actual waterbus pulled up, but it was going to Dordecht. The attendant told us this would be the last boat for the day and that if we didn’t take this one we had to go back by the bus/tram combo we had used to get to Kinder Dijk several hours before. Problem was – this waterbus was going to Dordrecht and we didn’t think there were any “direct” trains from Dordecht to Amsterdam.

We hopped on the waterbus and decided we’d figure it all out when we got to the Dordecht Station. The ride was smooth and quick – sort of like taking the ferry from Manhattan to Staten Island. Naturally the waterbus doesn’t arrive at a pier at the train station, so we called a taxi to get us to the station – about 7 minutes away. The sun had already set about 45 minutes before – Europe changed their clocks – moving back by an hour, midnight last night. We got to the train station only to be told by the clerk that the “fast” train to Amsterdam would leave in exactly one minute; she sold us a ticket (they are flexible and not assigned to particular trains), and then flat out told us we missed the train. The next one wouldn’t come for 30 minutes and it was not the direct express (meaning it would take about twice as long and stop many times).. So be it. We waited and eventually arrived back in Amsterdam at the Central Station at about 8 pm.

We had already decided, while on the train, to find a very simple place for dinner and to go directly from the train before heading to the hotel. We did a little research and decided to take a taxi from the station to Bird – a Thai restaurant, in Amsterdam’s Chinatown. It’s on a walking street with scores of small restaurants. We found it and there was a line of about 30+ people trying to get in. They do not take reservations. Tired, hungry and a bit surprised, Carol held our place in line and I headed out to scout the nearby places to find an alternative. About 8 minutes later – Carol texted to say to come back that the line had begun to move and it was going fast. I turned around and we made our way into Bird. It was perfect, and also quite charming. Great Thai food, two levels, friendly staff, and a good mixture of locals and foreigners.

Back at hotel. Sending this and heading to bed. Just heard on Al Jazeera that Trump said Al Baghdadi was “whimpering and crying, while running through a dead end tunnel, begging to be saved.” Oh, I have to get a new mindset ready as I head to the states in 36 hours.

Tomorrow will be my last missive on Netherlands.

See you stateside.

Fern

A Day on the Streets of Amsterdam. 10/26/2019

October 26, 2019

Greetings from Amsterdam –

Our journey is nearing an end – but not quite.

Today (Saturday) we headed to the Saturday Market at the Noordermarkt (“Northern Market”) in a square in the Jordaan neighborhood (one of the wealthy areas of the city), and adjacent to a large church (Westerchurch, I think or maybe it’s Noorderkerk). En route we stopped at a very cute little café for a simple breakfast (pastries with coffee for Carol and a great green juice for me). Apparently this market dates all the way back to the 17th Century. From what I read, during WWII, the organizers of the famous February Strike held their first meetings at Noordermarkt Square to protest deportations of Jews by the Nazis. There is a plaque at the church commemorating this activity. The market includes mouth-watering pastries and breads, fruits, cheeses, meats, and also interesting trinkets, fabrics, and handmade goods (again, many expressing the country’s interest in recycling and reusing materials). We saw bags made out of old military tents and things made out of old wool suits.

From there we strolled the Joordan and criss-crossed dozens of canals. Today was our shopping day so we strolled the famous “nine streets” – a series of small streets lines with somewhat quirky and eclectic shops and cafes that straddle the city’s grand canal. It’s known to locals as De Negen Straatjes or ‘The Nine Streets.’ It’s got lots of vintage and designer shops. We did help the Dutch economy a bit, but frankly we were pretty restrained. Although Carol accomplished her goal of finding a unique pair of eyeglasses (very chic!) and I also accomplished my goal of switching from a shoulder bag to a very sharp cross-body bag. We’ll see if I can get used to the switch. I know it will be better for my back.

We then headed to see some of the almshouses — Almshouses–collections of small apartments around a central courtyard that generally has a well-tended garden. The one we went to has a single gate and was tucked away behind a street façade within the center of the city. The earliest of these ‘hofjes’ was built in the 13th century. I believe this is a very Dutch housing and community type. Most were built in later centuries and were set up as housing for singles and very low income or destitute Dutch people. Wealthy Amsterdammers built them for elderly widows who could live there for free in the last years of their life. Now, they seem to house students and artists. They are like peaceful oasis in the middle of the city.. small in scale overpowered to some extent by the robust gardens. There are signs that say they welcome people visiting but to “keep the peace” of the community. The one we visited had about 12 small units surrounding the courtyard. The houses were each two stories. Some were built by Catholics and “rented” only to poor Catholics. Great solution for contemporary homelessness.

En route to the almshouses we stopped for a wonderful salad and pasta. After more strolling in the nine streets and beyond – we headed back to the hotel for me to be in time for a client conference call, and then headed to dinner.

Tonight we ate at Floreyn (considered “modern Dutch”) – quite wonderful. Started with a great steak tartare (shared), followed by haddock (for Carol) and veal (for me).. and then we succumbed to wonderful desserts —  “deconstructed pies” – strawberry for Carol – with watermelon slivers goat yogurt and watercress; deconstructed apple pie for me with ground almond, citrus, and cinnamon ice cream.

Following our very over-indulgent day, it started to rain and we hopped in a taxi to the hotel. Tomorrow we will head to the “kinder-dijk” – about a two-hour trip by train and “waterbus.”

Again- hope you’re all safe and sound and far from the fires.

All the best

Fern