Spent a really fun morning and part of the afternoon continuing to explore Dingle, which is clearly a very special place – even for the Irish who seem to consider it Nirvana. Mike and I went our separate ways and met up after about two hours or so at the finish line for the Dingle Marathon – cheering the runners past the finish line. Mike got there early enough to see the first place runner cross (at 2 hours 39 minutes) and I got there in time to see the woman who placed second and also a group of Americans cross the line. There were about 2,800 official runners. Everyone seemed to really enjoy it with runners saying it was one of the most gorgeous courses. Unfortunately the late place runners who were still chugging away after five hours were doing it in the rain, but they seemed happy to finish. Lots of kids joined parents as they ran across the finish line. And in true Irish sprit, all those who completed the race were invited to an after-party at a local pub with the first beer on the house. Note, photo above of Mike with his new hat (hasn’t lost it yet), by popular demand.
As I described yesterday, Dingle is one of those wonderfully interesting small towns with a reputation that outsizes its tiny population. It is a major tourist destination because of the beauty of the Dingle Peninsula and also because of the preponderance of artists who have settled here. It has the feeling of the nautical town that it is, with a port, lots of sailing and all sorts of water sports. And in typical Irish tradition, you can go into some sports shops to get tackle and equipment, and also have a beer as they seem to merge diverse operations – always with a pub. Dingle also has a distillery and they make Dingle Whiskey. Dingle also has a street (Green Street) which has a mini-Grauman Chinese Restaurant Walk of Stars… where they have the names of famous people who have some tie to Dingle inscribed on pavers… They seem to be very cozy with Julia Roberts because they have inscribed her name as “Julie”…. The only other comment about Dingle is that it is afloat with color… colorful buildings, colorful signs, colorful flowers adorning every house.
We had a quick lunch at a pub in Dingle called Ashe (owner’s name is John Ashe, and there are pictures of the owner on the wall with several movie stars like Gregory Peck). Mussels and salad. And then headed on the road to Limerick…which turned out to be complicated because so many roads were closed due to the marathon. Took some very circuitous route out of town and drove the two-plus hours to Limerick. The drive went through several small villages and farming areas and a few towns that were definitely not at the economic strata of Cork or Dingle. Stopped in a little shop to get us some snacks for the road and the cost was about ¼ of what it would have cost in Dingle.
Our approach to Limerick took us through an old working class area with interesting row houses. Getting to the hotel proved challenging as apparently the Internet address had a street name that was changed recently, so we went around in circles for a bit, but eventually got where we needed to go – to the Absolute Hotel (interesting name?) – a strange very modern building at the outer edge of what is the downtown. But totally adequate, despite its effort to be chic. We opted to head for dinner to a restaurant we saw on the web, called Sash. It was about a mile+ walk from the hotel… had it not been raining (sort of drizzle that increased as we walked), it would have been very pleasant. The city is divided by a river but given the quays and the frequent pedestrian bridges the city does not appear to have the typical divide like what happens with major roadways or rail road tracks, etc.
Anyway, to get to Sash we walked through downtown and past several art galleries and museums, but all in all, Limerick still (on this quick first night glance) seems to be more of a blue collar town. Sash was clearly upscale – catering, I’m guessing, to the professional class in town. Dinner was quite good: started with mussels in a spicy Thai sauce, followed by steak tartare, followed by a chicken dish (with “garlic mash” as they refer to mashed potatoes and kale). Mike is becoming quite an aficionado of Irish whiskey, so he tried two different ones. I stuck with wine.
Given the weather and the fact that it was dark, we were stuffed (which would have been a good reason to walk), and we were tired from another long day – and I had work to do back at the hotel, and had to write this note to you – we opted for a taxi.
That’s it for tonight and today… Tomorrow, we’ll check out Limerick briefly (it was always just a stop on the road from Dingle to Dublin); we drive to Dublin tomorrow.
Best – and have a great Labor Day weekend.
Fern
Greetings on the day before the end of the year.
Got a bit of a late start today as we asked for a taxi at our hotel (deciding against bicycles and scooters and horse drawn carriages). But the “taxi” that appeared was a huge van and we said we didn’t want to have such a large vehicle. Everyone, with lots of smiles at front desk, explained that all the “cars” were taken by other people and this was the only vehicle possible. We said we wouldn’t take that vehicle and would wait. I think they finally understood and a small (very small) car/taxi appeared. We visited several smaller temples and pagodas (all brick ones) and bypassed the big ones with tourist buses.
Stopped for lunch at a little place called Star Beam… on a dirt road lined with several other restaurants with mostly English names. Thai and Chines food although they also had some sandwiches on baguettes and pizzas (that actually looked and smelled pretty good). We had the local fish dishes accompanied by great fruit smoothies.
Strolled this little restaurant row for a bit and then headed to more temples, stupas, and pagodas. The brick ones were mostly built during the 12th century.. We climbed to the top of one of them through some very narrow stairway passage where we had to use our iPhone flashlights to see the steps which were incredibly steep and uneven and strewn with little pieces of cement that had dropped from the bricks… all in bare feet (in respect to the presence of Buddha downstairs). Made it up and down – probably not in record time.
It’s totally unimaginable how these worker bees were able to lug the supplies and build these structures in those times. Took several generations to complete the work.
At one temple, I sat for a minute or two on a ledge and was joined by a Burmese (middle-upper class) family who were on vacation from a town about 100 KM from Bagan. They spoke the best English we’ve heard so far. Father is retired and was a government employee; two grown daughters –one is a finance department head in Mandalay, the other is a pediatrician. There were two grandsons – about 4 and 8. The grandfather introduced everyone and also proclaimed that the older grandson was “fat!”
They were curious about our trip and I had a lot of questions for them. I think the US is pretty much one blob for them. If we say California, everyone says “US” and they don’t distinguish parts of the country.
Another little interesting tidbit — At lunch some kids were circulating among the tables trying to get money from different countries. The “spokesperson” was about 9 years old. He had some English – not much. When he asked where we were from, we responded “USA”.. and he responded with a thumbs up “Obama”.. and we said “Yes, Obama”.. and then he said “No more Obama… Trump bad” and gave thumbs down. We smiled and agreed and he then said “Obama” twice more. The coming years will be complicated in more ways than any of us can imagine.
Headed for dinner at a place called “Thripyitsaya” – will report on it tomorrow.
Happy December 30th.. it’s the dawning of your day and the end of ours.
Fern
12/29/2016. Cruising the Irrawaddy; arriving in Bagan
Greetings from Bagan . December 29, 2016
Somewhat simple day… Left hotel at 6 am to reach the jetty to board the boat to Bagan.
Once we traversed the gangplank-like 12” planks of wood set up along the shore and low waters, we were on a bit more stable entry to the boat. .Obviously there are lots of guys around who quickly grab your bags (our rollies) and hoist them on their shoulders and walk the same narrow gangplank.
It’s “open seating”.. about 50 rattan chairs set up in rows of two like an airplane. Baggage gets sort of placed, more like tossed, into a pile in an area in the room below the deck (which has some couch-type seating and is used, I suppose, in the rainy season. We set up on two chairs. It was freezing and got even colder as the boat sailed. Dug out whatever sweaters we had from the days in Tokyo, and also availed ourselves of several thin blankets that the boat supplied. The temperature was probably about 55 degrees, maybe 60. It lasted for about two hours and then the sun came out and it warmed up, but kept vacillating between about 85 and 65 depending on speed of boat, cloud cover, etc. We survived, shedding layers and adding layers.
The nine-hour boat ride was simultaneously relaxing, interesting, boring, ….. Actually, lots of activity on the water and along the narrow Irawaddy River. You sail by hundreds of stupas and pagodas; cannot even imagine how they got the supplies to these locations. And you get a glimpse of rural life.. washing clothes along the river, washing oneself at the river, growing things. I also managed to get work done. Just imagine – me sitting on this boat with computer in my lap. Actually, in some ways it was the perfect work set up. And, believe it or not, Burma is very WIFI savvy, so we even had connectivity the whole time. (For better or worse).
They serve a rather basic box-breakfast at about 7:30 am. And a lunch is delivered to your seat at about noon. By the way, most passengers appeared to be German, British, Thai, and a very small sprinkling of Americans (although maybe Canadians.. hard to say).
We arrived in Bagan at exactly 4:00 (they have this thing down pat), walked off the gangplank system again.. with lots of young guys hovering on the sandy shore to hold your hand if they think you might topple into the river.. I stood my own! Then the scrambling began, with guys (yes this is clearly a boy-job!) acting as intermediaries for taxi drivers (because these guys can say about 10 words in English and the driver doesn’t have any English). We “picked” a driver (closest one to where we were standing with the guys holding our bags), and set off for the Bagan Thande Hotel. Not sure how we picked any of the hotels we’ve stayed at, but for the most part we lucked out. As you know it was a pretty hectic fall and an over-the-top hectic December. We didn’t put in a lot of time; only knew we didn’t want large hotels; didn’t want high rises in a country like this; hoped for locally-owned, but hard to be sure. Tried not to spend too much money in government-owned and affiliated places.
The boat arrives in “New” Bagan and we are staying in “Old Bagan/Nyang U”.. The drive is about 20 minutes. On the way, the taxi stops at a little shop and all foreigners are required to pay 25,000 Kyat ($18) to get a card (that you keep with you) to be able to be in the national archaeological area (All of Bagan is in the area). Hopefully this money goes to preservation work in Bagan, but not so sure.
The 20 minute drive is incredible because you are passing stupa after stupa after pagoda after pagoda – most built between 1100 and 1300. They are everywhere. Most are not considered “special” and they are just on the roadside. They are very different from the pagodas in Mandalay and Yangon which are all gold and marble and have giant buddhas. Most of these are unadorned brick, but the plan and design of the structure is totally impressive – and for my tastes, these are far more exquisite than the very very very ornate ones we’ve seen until now. Tomorrow is brick pagoda and stupa day for us… The only challenge is getting around. You can rent bicycles and that would probably be a good system, but I’m a little nervous about riding on the dirt and gravel roads. You can rent a horse drawn carriage (interesting tourist solution) but that’s really slow and somehow seems just too touristy for us. So we will probably hire a “city taxi” (as opposed to a hotel private car) and have him meander and we will just keep stopping, occasionally walking.. and after lunch start the routine again. We shall see.
Bagan Thande is the oldest hotel in Bagan; probably built in the 50s. It’s sweet, on the river, and we have our own little cabin with porch that faces the river. The grounds are filled with aged acacia trees whose branches spread umbrella-like for about 100’. In some places they’ve constructed posts to prop up branches.
Quickly unpacked and headed to watch the sunset at the Panorama Bar at the hotel, before settling in and heading to town for dinner.
Decided on a little Thai place we selected following a little “research.” Food was good; place was very simple… mostly outside, about 18 tables. Only three or four families eating there – all Burmese. Tried to order the crab, but no crab (very interesting sign language conversation. The menu had English as well as Burmese so we could point to what we were ordering. But couldn’t really get any description of anything and then when we thought we finally had it all figured out, he made the “no” sign on several of our options. Guess it’s really small with a very big menu, so they can’t possibly have all those varieties all the time. No problem, we substituted. We had some kind of sweet and sour chicken with pineapples and cucumbers cooked in the dish; a very spicy (even for us) minced chicken salad with lots of hot chilies; and a pork with mangos.. And of course the requisite beer (Myanmar Beer).
Headed back to the hotel at about 10:30 pm…
Big Stupa Day for us tomorrow. More then.
Best — Fern
12/28/2016. Final Day in Mandalay: U Bein Bridge, Royal Palace, Exchanging $, Thai Food, Misc.
Short Day – started out early to get to U Bein Bridge – the oldest, longest (3/4 mile) teak wood bridge in the world. It connects two villages; it’s a pedestrian bridge made of reclaimed wood from a former palace; built between 1849 and 1851. It has 1,086 pillars that are situated in the water below; the pillars come up above the bridge walkway planks by about two feet. The pillars are spaced about every 12 feet. There is no railing. In general the walkway is about 20’ above the water…. Over the years some pillars have rotted and some have disconnected from the bridge, but no one seems to notice (except we two Americans).
Along the bridge and under the bridge are makeshift “shops” and vendors walking the 1.5 mile round trip with good on their heads and on their arms. On the shores below, fishermen (and it is “men”) are using nets and interesting wooden “traps” to catch fish, and rice is being farmed. It’s a busy place. About one third of the way there is a little pavilion on the bridge where you can sit – and of course several people are selling food. After we walked the bridge, we checked out some of the wares sold by vendors – including the purses and jewelry made from watermelon seeds that have been dried and varnished and have a very deep ebony color. Pretty amazing just how entrepreneurial and how clever everyone is.
From there, we stopped to see some wood working shops and marvel at the craft and the process, as well as the tools being used. Then headed to the Royal Palace (figured we had to see it, although we weren’t overly excited about it… So here’s the download on it… It’s the last royal palace of the last Burmese monarchy.. constructed in the mid-1800s when the king at the time determined that Mandalay would be the new royal capitol city.. I guess they changed these capitols often in those days. There’s a huge walled fort surrounded by a moat… All the buildings are one story.. There are probably about 40 different buildings on the site and they each have a spire on the top… the taller the spire the more important the building. Strolled the grounds.. often ahead of or behind monks.
Then realized we were running out of “kyat” (Burmese money) and decided to head directly to an ATM. OK.. worked for both of us; sometimes it’s been hit and miss, with regard to banks accepting our cards. Anyway, all good except that the wad of bills that emerged from the ATM machine was about an inch and a half thick! A dollar is equal to 1,350 Kyat… so if you withdraw $225 you get 300,000 Kyat.. but it all came out of the machine in 5,000 and 1,000 denominations… so I had about 90 bills! We walked into the bank to see if they would change this – at least to 10,000 bills. Frankly, we’ve only seen 500, 1,000, 5,000 and 10,000 bills. So I don’t know if there is anything larger. As soon as we walked in the bank, the guard – a very friendly guy – ushered us to the front of the line (they treat foreigners well although it’s a little embarrassing).. We went to the counter to “explain” using sign language our problem and they seemed to understand. Behind the counter were about 8 workers who were counting money, by hand and also using a money counting machine. .. and wrapping the money in some kind of groups. All along the floor behind the counter were bills, some waiting to be counted, some already wrapped. No bars, no armed guards standing by the money – just the friendly guy who was taking care of us. Amazing. It does seem incredibly safe everywhere.
Headed for lunch at a little Thai place; not bad. They made a wide variety of smoothies and fruit juices. We both had a carrot, apple, ginger juice. Very fresh and very good. Tonight we will eat earlier than usual (for us) at the hotel restaurant which serves Indian food; we need to pack to be checked out tomorrow morning by 6 am. We decided to leave Mandalay one day earlier than planned so that we could have time for the all-day boat from Mandalay to Bagan. The boat leaves at 7 am and it’s about 30 minutes to get to the jetty. The boat (this is the “fast boat”) arrives in Bagan at 4 pm. So it’s a 9-hour trip. It’s possible to get a driver but that’s about five hours (and didn’t seem very comfortable). There’s a slow boat that takes about 12 hours (lots of people with chickens and stuff.. sounded OK but didn’t want to spend the extra time; those are also the boats that are known to be overweight and oversubscribed. There’s also a bus that takes about 10 hours… mmmmmmm… The “fast boat’ sounded like a good plan. Anyway, I’m signing off now so that I can do some work and then pack . and have dinner.. and also to take advantage of the complimentary 45-minute massage that guests are told about on arrival. Didn’t think we could fit it in, but trying to do that tonight.
Next missive from Bagan.
Cheers.
Fern
12/26/2016. From Yangon to Mandalay
December 26, 2016. Mandalay
Greetings (Mingalaba)
So last night we had our last dinner in Yangon (except that we will be back for one night – January 1 — while in transit to Tokyo) at the Rangoon Tea House — a clearly upscale café serving Indian foods and frequented by foreigners (who seem to live in Myanmar). Food was good. Left at about 11 pm and headed to hotel to pack.
Then a small panic attack. As we approached the hotel, it dawned on me that every time we looked at all of our paper work for this trip — I never saw any flight from Yangon to Mandalay. In the taxi, we both searched emails and couldn’t find anything other than a few requests to different airlines questioning whether or not they serviced the two cities. Then I had a vague recollection of getting an email from one airline saying it had folded, and from another that didn’t post their schedule until close to the date of travel… and I think we just dropped the ball after that — too much going on: Thanksgiving, work projects, end of semester, office move, FTA Open House… and who knows what else. Anyway, from what we could tell, we didn’t have any reservation… Just a notation of the time of the flight in each of our calendars, but no confirmation number. So we moved fast.. I went online and captured the last two seats (and that they were – in the total back of the plane.. last row) and purchased them. Turns out Golden Myanmar Airlines (!!) has three prices for each flight – but no indication of what the differences are between the three fares, and the cost differential is $10. .So we opted for the middle price. Not sure what that gave us, since it clearly wasn’t for a stellar seat.
Anyway, good thing we did that. We asked the hotel to phone the airlines (at the same time I was purchasing the tickets) and the Airline Offices were closed and would not open again until after we would need to be at the airport. Given that we didn’t see any empty seats on the plane, I’m pretty certain we didn’t wind up double booking.
So, this morning off we went to the Yangon Airport – a fairly new and large airport located about 45 minutes from downtown Yangon. Taxi driver was friendly, but not very familiar with the airport since he tried to drop us off at the International Terminal (they have two terminals). The 45-minute taxi ride cost about $6. Our plane was an hour late, but there was very little in the way of information sharing. Ticketing is interesting. They write the information by hand on the boarding pass.
We made it to Mandalay and then dealt with a far more chaotic taxi situation than the rather orderly system in Yangon. Lots of drivers trying to get our attention; young guys trying to entice us into hiring them to give tours; others vying to carry our bags to waiting taxis. We “picked” the first taxi in the row, ignoring the requests for us to take mini-vans and shared vehicles, etc. It’s about an hour drive to downtown and where hotels are located. This taxi cost about $9.
Made it to the hotel – Hotel at the Red Canal – another funny choice. Realized about 10 days ago that we never booked a hotel for Mandalay – looked at many, but never decided. So again, mad scramble and checking where there was space. Anyway, the HRC (as they refer to it in the literature) was waiting for us when we pulled up. They had fancy signs welcoming guests arriving today. Our sign said “Professor Fern Tiger and Party”… When we were scrambling to find a hotel… I signed the email “Professor” knowing full well that Asia has very high regard for “titles” and figured we might have a better chance of getting a room. I neglected to give Mike a title (and maybe he didn’t even get a name). Anyway, when we went downstairs later, they had hastily created a new sign that included Mike with title! And now they put his name ahead of mine. Well at least I wasn’t “and Party.”
By then it was about 4 pm and we were pretty hungry, so we stopped at the hotel restaurant and had a pretty nice late Indian lunch. Settled in to HRC and will soon take a stroll and get dinner (I think eating is all we did today). The hotel is quite charming. Another small, boutique style hotel – with nice gardens and lots of teak… They go a little overboard so when we got to the room, the bathtub was filled with hot water and hundreds of rose petals. We found a letter in the room indicating that our room rate (we’re probably overpaying because we were so desperate) includes two massages. Given our ride yesterday for about a total of two hours in the tuk tuk where we were pretty much airborne 50% of the time, I think the idea of a massage sounds great. Maybe tomorrow.
First impressions of Mandalay – a city of about 1.5 million people – seems like a lot of newer buildings and a lot of construction; scores and scores of pagodas and stupas between the airport and the city. We are supposed to be here for four nights, but we might shorten by a day and add a day to Bagan, enabling us to take the boat from here to Bagan (10 hours on the fast boat) rather than get a car (probably with a driver, since driving is pretty dicey – did it in Thailand and navigating the horses, goats, cows, trucks, motorcycles, buses, and the other cars was an exhausting and white knuckle situation). Anyway, we shall see… and you shall hear.
Before closing this note, a few observations in general and some miscellaneous images…
- I’m tall in Myanmar; Burmese people, in general, are pretty short.
- They like to exchange cash rather than use your credit card, but they are very very discriminating with regard to what money they take. Mike got pretty hyped after his cash was deemed “inappropriate” and “not possible to convert to local currency” (which by the way has no value on the open market). They don’t take any bills that are folded (and have a crease) or have any wrinkles or any marks. They rejected $80 of his $120 at the airport, at the hotel, and at the second check cashing place. They found a folded corner, a small red mark, wrinkles, and the like. They only like crisp, clean, new dollars. Yet they give you very old, wrinkled money in exchange. So we need to use ATMs which are also pretty picky with regard to your bank.
- Literacy rate is 83%
- Life expectancy is 57 years old (so I’m elderly here?)
- 89% of the population is Buddhist
- Exchange rates are based on the denomination of the bills you exchange, with $100 bills yielding higher rate than five $20 bills; the money is called Kyat (pronounced “chat”)
- The Burmese chew betel nut leaves.. they fill the leaves with the nut and spices and a pinch of tobacco.. fold this mixture in the leaf.. put it in the mouth, chew.. and then spit it out. In many areas you see a lot of red liquid on the sidewalk. That’s the remains of the spitting of the betel nut and leaves. Pretty gross. First I thought someone was spitting blood and nearly rushed to help them…
All my best…
Will report on Mandalay tomorrow.
Fern
12/25/2016. Christmas in Yangon
Happy Happy 25 December 2016 Yangon
Last night we decided it would be good to take a little jaunt into some small villages outside of the center of Yangon. We read that there was a town called Twanty that was approached either by a 10 minute ferry and then a 45 kilometer drive or by a two-hour ferry. We thought the latter might be relaxing, so we set off to find that ferry. Asked at the hotel, but they said that the office for the ferry was closed and they couldn’t find a schedule. We looked online; they looked online. But we were determined. So we headed to the friendly upscale Strand Hotel… figuring that they wouldn’t realize we weren’t hotel guests (since we are White and sort of fit the guest profile) and the concierge would “know all!” The concierge was amazingly friendly and helpful and made a lot of calls and finally told us which jetty we needed to be at to catch the longer ferry. Took a taxi to that jetty, and then the taxi driver asked around and said that the people (there was a very very makeshift market down by the jetty) said that the ferry wasn’t going today – because it was Christmas and a national holiday (who’d have thought? In a Buddhist country?). So we had two choices: we could take a very very small boat (which the taxi driver said was very “unsafe”) or we could go back to the jetty near the Strand and take the 10 minute ferry and then do the 45 KM drive. We opted for the latter. And then the fun began.
There were huge crowds in the “waiting area;” someone immediately tapped us on the shoulder and sort of gently pushed us toward another end of the room… we learned that we needed to buy “foreigner tickets” which cost about $1, but I guess that’s a higher price than what others pay (again, good idea). With our round trip tickets in hand, we joined the throngs trying to board the “ferry.” I think about half of the people on the ferry are people who are trying selling things like bananas, water, various foods, trinkets, quail eggs, etc. Anyway we boarded and then found that on the upper deck there is a little VIP zone (first class!) for the foreigners who paid more for their tickets. We got plastic chairs; the others got benches – for the 10 minute ride across the river. Once we got off the boat, we had a lot of choices as to transportation to get from Dala (where the boat docked) and Twanty — car taxi, shared mini-bus, pick-up truck with benches in the back, passenger on a motorcycle, bus, or tuk tuk (which we used extensively in other parts of Asia). We opted for the tuk tuk (which I had actually commented on the other day that we were surprised we hadn’t seen any in Yangon). Well, we didn’t exactly ever sit in a tuk tuk for 45 minutes (in each direction). The tuk tuk is a motorcycle that has a little “cab” in the back with seats. It’s noisy, bumpy, … Anyway we negotiated a price… the guy would take us to Twanty, make three stops – Pagoda, Snake Pagoda, Pottery workplace. He’d wait for us at each place and then drive us back to Dala to catch the ferry back.
And off we go…. The 45 minute ride to the first stop was like getting a very very tough massage, but in all the wrong places. The noise was as you would imagine. Myanmar’s road infrastructure is poor at best.. so the ride matched that.. But it was fun.. We shared the road with goats, cows, cars, trucks, buses, motorcycles, pedestrians, vans, occasional horse, and more. Our driver worked hard at various points to pass cars and at one time successfully passed a Honda Fit. Along the way, there was a toll “booth” (sans booth).. I guess that covers the road repairs that might be made way in the future! He was funny, because every so often (especially when we were close to Dala) he donned a helmet (which I suppose he’s supposed to wear legally). Then we realized that there was a cop close by.
We stopped at the first pagoda (not really first as we passed literally dozens of them… but the first we were actually stopping at). And it was charming… although it might have been some kind of cemetery. Again, lots of families sitting around, enjoying the day while others prayed.
From there we headed to the “snake pagoda” – which sits in a river and is accessed by a big walking bridge. Yes, there are real snakes crawling around the Buddha statue in the center.. and sort of slithering all around. Not sure I totally realized that was going to be the scene.. but alas, here we were.
Oh… definitely had to remove the shoes again before even crossing the bridge to the snake pagoda.
Got back on tuk tuk and headed to a remote little village of thatched huts, no more than about 2-300 sq. feet each… some were housing and some were where the residents did pottery… large scale pots of various shapes. They use an interesting two-person foot system to spin the potter’s wheel. The potter sits on the floor; the wheel is between his legs on the floor; a second person stands and kicks the wheel. Anyway, it works.
We then sat and watched a group of kids play and run around in this tiny village… and surveyed the scene —- someone brushing his teeth in a bowl of water that came from ???… people building small houses.
Then on to the temple… which was sort of outside.. with rows and rows of statues.
And then we did the return trip to the ferry… another 45 minutes of vibration, noise, and fun. Following this and the ferry ride – crowded, more gawking to try to get people (not really us – they focused on locals) to buy all sorts of goods…. We decided we deserved cocktails at the Strand Hotel. After that we made a brief pit stop into a “supermarket” to get some toothpaste, a razor, and sun screen… The supermarket which would fit into one aisle of an American supermarket sold everything including men’s shirts!
Now we are back at the hotel… and off to our last dinner in Yangon. I think we are going to the Rangoon Tea House… but we shall see. We leave tomorrow morning and head to Mandalay.
More from there.
Merry Merry and Happy Happy.
Fern
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The Night Market in Yangon. December 23 2016
Night Market in Yangon…. the night before the night before Christmas not that it matters much in Myanmar). The pictures say it all!
June 28 2018. Montreal in All its Glory. Day 2
Quelle journée (What a day !). Thursday, June 28 (really Friday June 29 – as it is after midnight here)
Started out a bit later than planned (about 9:45); I was up pretty late trying to soak in the realities of the US Supreme Court situation.
We decided to head to one of the famous Montreal bagel places for breakfast, so hopped into a taxi to take us north to the Jewish neighborhood around St. Viateur Street where there is a well-known bagel place. While I don’t think there was ever a real Jewish ghetto in Montreal, the area along Boulevard St. –Laurent between McGill University and Mile End has a long history as a Jewish neighborhood and despite gentrification (which is very obvious) the area maintains a Jewish flavor, with a clear presence of Hasidim and orthodox Jews — along with hipsters!
We messed up a bit in that the address we had researched was actually for the bagel-making bakery, not the bagel café (which was a trek away)… so we wound up buying bagels (hot out of the oven) and then finding a coffee shop where we ate our bagels in a very hip coffee place. Best of both worlds. Montreal bagels are famous and very different from NY style bagels. New York-style bagels are soft, chewy and doughy. Montreal-style bagels are smaller, denser, sweeter, and sort of “crusty.” Both are boiled before baked, but supposedly the water that is used in each city makes the bagels taste different. (I know a bit about this since my mother’s second husband owned a kosher delicatessen in Brooklyn and he always said that no matter how hard California would try it could never make a really good bagel because of the water (???)
Apparently Montreal bagels are boiled in water that has honey added. But then the Montreal bagels are baked in a wood-burning oven which makes them crispy. OK.. I confess.. I’m a NYer but I really really like Montreal bagels.
Anyway, enough about bagels.. We then began our day-long trek to see the famous murals of Montreal (hundreds of them scattered throughout several different districts in the city). There are maps identifying where some of the famous ones are and then you just stumble on others. Some are really just good graffiti and others are very planned-out statements. They are large and seem to fill up every blank wall in these areas of the city. We headed south on Saint Laurent Street and then just meandered about town, savoring in every turn of the street, with each new mural siting.
We walked about 4.5 miles in our mural hike (and also stopped into a few great little boutiques) and then decided it was time for a late lunch – at Schwartz’s Deli – a 90-year old institution started by a Jewish immigrant from Romania. It’s not a kosher restaurant, but it’s “kosher style” and clearly frequented by every ethnic group in the city. At our shared table there was a young couple that ordered a small plate of the meat and the waiter was surprised until they explained that they really already had lunch but they were taking a walk and passed by and couldn’t control themselves to not stop in and have some of the famous brisket! Schwartz’s signature dish is a smoked meat sandwich served on rye bread with yellow mustard. It’s served as fatty, medium, or lean. Naturally, we accompanied our shared sandwich (couldn’t imagine having the whole thing alone) with half-sour pickles, cole slaw, and peppers on the side – and cream soda. The walls are covered with photos of famous people eating at Schwartz’s.
We also stopped at Kem Coba – a Vietnamese ice cream place. “Kem CoBa” means third auntie’s ice cream in Vietnamese. Flavors include La Latina: mango & dulce de leche – La Florida: orange & coconut – La New-Yorkaise: strawberry & cheesecake. I had one scoop of almond and Carol had honey orange flower. Yummy…
Then we were back on our mural hike… and made a purposeful detour to see the Leonard Cohen mural – 9 stories high.
After nearly 6 miles, we were getting a bit tired.. and it started to rain. So we hopped into a taxi to the hotel. By now it was close to 6 pm. We agreed to meet at the rooftop bar at our hotel at 7, but as we went back to our rooms, we saw an air show (with synchronated planes) right outside our windows. Maybe it was tied to “Canada Days” which is this weekend.
We had our drinks on the rooftop which turns out to have really good 360-degree views. And then we headed to dinner at Hvor in the Griffintown neighborhood which is north and west of where we are staying. The name is Danish but the food is not. It’s a very contemporary, sleek space. We shared steak tartare which came with mustard greens and smoked egg yolk and horseradish. For the main courses we had trout filet which sat in a very light buttermilk sauce, with smoked eel; and lamb sirloin made with watermelon molasses, smoked apple butter and a feta garnish… Naturally we couldn’t really end the meal without dessert so we had the hazelnut clafoutis.
The restaurant prides itself on the fact that it grows all the vegetables and spices and even the honey for all of the dishes.. on their rooftop.. They asked if we’d like to see it and so we went up.. Unbelievable what they are growing in a small space on raised beds! Even kiwis! Left quite satisfied.. and decided to take taxi to hotel. It was now about 11:00 pm…But about 5 minutes into the taxi ride we spotted some of the silent movies being projected onto walls throughout one neighborhood so we jumped out of the taxi to view some of the films – all of which had some kind of tie-in to Montreal and Montreal history.. Like finding the murals it was great to just keep stumbling on these films that were projected about 6 stories high.. Eventually we found our way back to the hotel.
Tomorrow is our last full day in Montreal. It’s supposed to be about 90 degrees. If that’s true – we will head to museums (my least favorite places) but they will be air-conditioned and might be interesting. In any case they will be cool. Tomorrow night we have tickets for the Ry Cooder performance at the Montreal Jazz Festival – opening night. We understand there will be all sorts of activities going on around that area so it should be fun.
That’s it for me – past bedtime!
Bonsoir…. Fern
Americans in Kampala Uganda. 12/21/2018
Posted on Saturday 22 December: Greetings from Kampala, Uganda –
We headed out fairly early – by taxi – for Nakasero Market located in the center of Kampala. It’s huge and mostly about food. It’s divided into two sections – an open area where sellers are located under literally hundreds and hundreds of well-worn umbrellas to protect themselves and their produce from the sun (and rain). The other part of the market (which stretches for several blocks) is focused on hardware, clothing, and miscellaneous items. We strolled for about 90 minutes amid the vendors and customers. We were literally the only tourists there. It’s a body-to-body experience, squeezing through tiny aisles along with shoppers, workers carrying trays on their heads, workers carrying huge sacks of flour or rice or whatever.
We walked the thin line of wanting to see everything and to photograph and not wanting to get in the way of the people who really needed to be there to work and to shop. Most people were friendly; some didn’t want their photos taken. Some tried to speak Italian to us, thinking we were from Italy. (So now we’ve been recognized as Italian, Icelandic, French, and Russian; never once as Americans). Several people (when I stopped to chat and photograph) were surprised we were from the US; those few who had heard ort California responded “Schwartzenegger!” and one thought he was the President of California. Apparently his movies are well watched here in Uganda. I talked to one father sitting off to a side with his 6-year old son, whose name was “Michael Jordan!” And one man wanted us to hire him to be our “house guard;” every house of any significance, and all public and private buildings in Uganda have their own guard or guards (in fact when you pull up to any restaurant a guard inspects the car before you can bring the car close to the restaurant). When we said we didn’t have a guard, the guy was very shocked and then said “You must be poor.”
During our walk through the market, Mike tasted some sauteed grasshoppers. I begged off; I’ve eaten fried ones in Mexico which were actually good, but I just wasn’t up for it that early in the day.
Hooked up with the taxi and headed to Owino Market – which began in 1971 with 320 vendors and today there are 50,000 vendors!!! Trust me, that number is real. The market started as a food market and over time diversified into all sorts of other items including a giant shoe area, clothing, scrap metal, cooked food, chicken and meat and fish. Owino makes Nakasero seem like a little corner grocery.
Owino, is the biggest open market in Uganda and probably in all of East Africa – covering about 17 acres. Despite this vast area, it is totally overcrowded. I’d say that about three quarters of the vendors are female.
It’s totally impossible to describe and also impossible to photograph Owino Market. You can barely stand in one spot for more than a few seconds since the crowds are moving along and you sort of need to move along with them. It’s also not just a visual experience; it affects all senses. We’ve been to markets all over the world – in Southeast Asia, South and Central America, India, and more – but this one is not only the largest but also the most complex market I’ve experienced. Not sure how one finds their way around or out. The taxi driver sort of followed us around and also bought himself two shirts while we were busy photographing. He said it was impossible to find one’s way around.
After about 90 minutes we headed to the street and into the taxi. And then the fun began. We decided we would go to the Uganda Museum which was only about 5 kilometers from the market. But the streets were gridlocked. We literally sat in the car for about 15 minutes without moving at all; eventually we moved at a snail’s pace – It took us more than 70 minutes to go the 5 kilometers. If it wasn’t so complicated to navigate the route, we would have walked.
On the long drive and as we passed through many different neighborhoods whose residential wealth or poverty appeared somewhat obvious we discussed with the driver what kind of people lived in each area. The taxi driver offered that Kampala has five economic classes. He then gave examples of who was in each of the classes. Frankly, the conversation started because I asked what kind of people shopped at Owino Market versus Nakasero Market.
By the time we got to the rather dusty and poorly organized museum, we were exhausted and headed to a little café next door to the museum for fresh fruit smoothies. And we made a short pitstop in a little shop where all the goods were made by women affiliated with various NGOs.
Then we headed to the hotel where we were to meet up with Martin again. Naturally we were a bit late given the traffic, but he, too, needed to face traffic so all was good.
We headed up and down more of the hills and neighborhoods that comprise Kampala. A few facts I haven’t mentioned.
- The climate is much more comfortable than I had imagined given that this is summer time, and we are basically at the equator. The elevation at about 4000 feet helps and the continuous breezes from Lake Victoria save the place.
- The roads up and down all these hills are in incredibly poor condition: no lights, deep ditches on either side of the one lane in each direction roads; no striping; potholes that can be as deep as 6 or 8 inches everywhere; bikes, motorbikes, cars, trucks all vying for their space on the road.
- Radio stations seem to have a large number of public service “stories” that are sandwiched between every two songs. Some are like little telenovelas but with only sound. One was a new mom talking with her husband while the baby cried. The dad says that the mom should do something about the crying baby and the mom says she is washing her hands because she just changed the diaper. The dad says “But the baby is crying” and the mom says “Better for the baby and the rest of the family not to get sick because she was starting to cook and without washing her hands would be worse than letting the baby cry for a while. The mom says something about .. the baby won’t die from crying but could die if the mom didn’t wash her hands before touching food. Obviously, they didn’t get into the fact that the dad could deal with the crying baby…. Step by step.. And there are posters and campaigns everywhere regarding AIDS. Uganda has the highest infection rate in the world, I believe.
- Some great photos I didn’t get included in these posts include women in full burkas on motorcycles (as passengers); in fact I don’t think I’ve seen women driving motorcycles at all.
- Men in the market ask Mike if I am his wife or sister. Then they often ask how many wives Mike has.
- Healthcare in Uganda is almost non-existent.. but more on that in another letter.
With Martin driving (and an unexpected guest for our drive and dinner – Elliott, a young cousin of Martin (Elliot’s aunt is apparently one of Martin’s father’s several wives) — we headed for a view of Lake Victoria and also dinner. Along the way we had more time to discuss his years in the US (about 12) and his sense of racism in America. He was quite astute about the problems and the history of racism in the states. Eventually (thousands of potholes later), we arrived at Cassia Lodge where we had spectacular views of Lake Victoria and a wonderful sunset with a nearly perfect full moon. After a nice dinner, we bid Martin farewell and headed back to Humura.
Take care –
Fern
6/3/2019. More Old Friends and More Helsinki
Moi Moi –
So, I hear #45 is on this side of the ocean, trying to be presidential. The Finns find this simultaneously hysterical and scary.
Set out this morning with a first stop at Fazer, the more than 100 year old bakery (with many locations) that probably exemplifies all the wonderful pastries and breads of Finland. I had my favorite breakfast pastry – from Northern Karelia region — oval-shaped and filled with some kind of rice and potato and topped with egg butter which is made from hard boiled eggs mashed with butter. The Finns have lots of pastries that are for special holidays and their holidays are often for poets (like Runeberg) or musicians or writers. The arts are an integral part of the culture. So, for example, on Runeberg’s birthday there is a special and quite wonderful raspberry and rum tart dessert that is popular – supposedly this was Runeberg’s favorite dessert as a child and it is prepared the way his mother made it. Not many we heroes here – but lots of heroes in the cultural world.
From there I strolled to the kauppatori (the marketplace located at the harbor); it’s changed a lot since we lived here. At that time, we relied on the market for our daily food purchases (since we didn’t have a freezer and only had a teeny refrigerator). Now there are a lot of stalls selling souvenirs and I suppose most Finns are shopping in the many wonderful supermarkets they now have – or in the more local markets instead of this main market. When we lived here, there were dozens of little fishing boats lined up at the shore selling fish right from the boats; now that harbor gets a lot of cruise ships where passengers get off the boat for the day and “see” Finland. So it’s a different place. Still lovely and fun to walk. There’s also a great indoor market there.
I strolled down the Esplanade to reach the market area, passing the gallery where I had an exhibit of my work while living here (Galeria Artek). The gallery is no longer and is now some kind of upscale shop selling Finnish goods.
I met up with Mike at the Design Museum which had 2 fantastic shows: a history of Finnish design through products (called Utopia Now) and an upstairs show with works by COMPANY. For more than a decade, Aamu Song and Johan Olin have travelled around the world, looking for traditional crafts to understand the techniques and manufacturing skills of these products. The duo has visited workshops and master craftspeople in many countries including Japan, Russia, and Mexico. They’ve collected all sorts of craft art pieces, clothing, accessories and furniture some of which they created together with masters of these crafts. Their goal is to bring attention to the endangered role of crafts and the skills needed to sustain them, as well as the unsustainability of today’s consumer culture. They are trying to show alternatives to this kind of consumerism.
Prior to going to the Design Museum, we stopped for a light lunch at Juuri which is about a block away on Korkeavankatu. Shared three “sapas” (what the Finns call their tapas): herring with crispy fried rye and marinated fennel; a lamb croquette with yogurt and mint; and a cucumber side dish that had some kind of creamy cheese. After the Design Museum we strolled back to the hotel on a lot of small streets, returning to streets we hadn’t seen during previous visits over the years. And we walked within the “design center” neighborhood (of which the street on which we lived is a part!)
Reached the hotel just in the nick of time to meet Tatu, the son of some old friends when we were here in Helsinki, Anne and Tapani (who I mentioned in a previous note). Together we went to visit Tapani, who was diagnosed with Alzheimers about 7 years ago. We were all running late, so we hopped into a taxi to get to the Verahamaki neighborhood which is about 20 miles from Helsinki. Tapani was clearly waiting for us, sitting on the outside deck of his first floor “apartment,” in the assisted living facility that he’s been in since his wife (Anne) passed away a few years ago.
He’s gained weight, and he’s clearly forgetful, but he’s got incredible spirit and has maintained his same rye sense of humor that he had years ago – noting that he had completed all the important research in Finnish demographics so there is nothing left for anyone else to research (and therefore it’s ok that he’s not doing his work any more)… and then said that probably when he came to the university as a young faculty member some older faculty member who was retiring said the same thing! He showed us around and noted that we should order anything we want at the café/bar that is inside the facility. “Everything is free,” he stated. “I never have to pay.” Later he suggested we all get ice cream at the café and again reminded us that one cannot pay there – “It’s all free!”
He most definitely remembered both of us, which was nice and he knew that we were friends for a long time. We reminded him that we had visited the family when he was a Fulbright professor at the University of Wisconsin. He seemed to recall something about it, but said it was hard to remember but he had happy memories with us. It was good to see him in good and happy spirits, but obviously sad knowing what a brilliant sociologist he had been. He mentioned that he still plays chess, so Mike took him up on it and that had a very intense game that ended in a draw. Mike said he was very alert for the game, but when it went on for a long time he began to get tired. We walked him back to his room, where he noted that he gets a delivery of three beers each night. True to form, the beers were sitting at his table. Once a Finn, always a Finn. He noted that he wouldn’t be driving so it was OK to have the beers!
Then Tatu, Mike, and I took the bus back to downtown and had dinner at Gaijin, an Asian-inspired Finnish restaurant. I’d been here twice before and it was as good as all prior times. For the foodies, I think we had 6 tiny starters: salmon tartar on a black squid cracker, with a tobiko dressing, baby shrimps, and marinated trout roe; an edamame and avocado taco, with dried tomatoes, and wasabi mayonnaise; three pieces of fantastic dim sum… followed by two main courses: a steak tartare with a miso dressing and pickled mushrooms; and baby back ribs with a great marinade. I think we had something else (beyond drinks and wine), but can’t remember. It was great to reconnect with Tatu, whom we hadn’t seen in about 20 years. He lives in Los Angeles having emigrated to the US about 30 years ago. He’s turned into an interesting adult with good politics, a healthy critique of the US, and lots of fun. He has been coming to visit his family in Helsinki annually, since he got his green card and was able to travel (no easy task).
Dinner ended at about midnight, and we strolled to the hotel. Tatu headed to the Metro to get to the apartment he is using for the month. Amazing! By the way, the weather has been fantastic (in the 60s and sunny).
Tomorrow we face our last day in Helsinki and then head out on a very very early morning flight on Wednesday morning – transferring planes in London (complicated because we will be changing terminals and won’t be able to check bags straight through —- yes, here we are actually checking bags. A new thing for us. We usually try to do just carry-on, but this time it’s not going to work)
I’ll try to write the final chapter tomorrow if I have time… Another hectic day, including dinner on Sirpilasaari Island (you take a five-minute boat), with Antti and Heidi.
All the best –
Fern
Fern's Travel Notes 