Travel Location: Venice,Italy

Travel About: architecture,food-&-wine,art-&-museum,shopping,romantic

By the time we arrived in Venice, we were starting to feel more like wilted flowers in mid summer than the spring chickens we are. Jet lag plus a packed schedule of almost every waking hour was starting to catch up. Venice was still magical when we came out of the station though. A gondola idled up the Grand Canal opposite us, vaporetti coming and going – ahhhh it is good to be here.

The vaporetto ride was a wake up call in itself. The driver was positively savage with his use of the gear box and each stop on the journey was occasioned not only with near whip lash when he slammed the boat into reverse on the approach to the stop, but side to side whip lash as we career into the boat stop buffers. Not ideal for those feeling tender from jet lag, over eating, long train journeys and lack of sleep and we had to endure about 6 of these before our stop finally appeared.

What I haven’t mentioned is that it is stinking hot here. About 30 degrees C. After meandering aimlessly through a beautiful park, I ran out of any self respect and asked someone in Italian for our street. The vague instructions given were a general direction that did prove fruitful in the end. Finding the apartment was great though. It is just perfect for us (see the picture).

Then, no rest for us though, it was off to Murano, to meet with one of our suppliers. We dressed up in non “touristy” clothes and tried to look as professional as possible and headed for Murano. We didn’t realise that it is a reasonably big place and there are about 4 vaporetto stops. We had no idea which one to get so took the first one and were herded down to watch some glass blowing. The furnace is just what you need on a day like this!!! Finally we tracked down our supplier and find that she is not there and is not intending to be there. Oh well, it was good to find the supplier and see that they do in fact manufacture jewellery. There are many fakes, even in Venice, with look alikes made in China selling for very low prices.

Staggered back onto the vaporetto, went to dinner in zombie like state (Kathy doesn’t even remember this!) and then collapsed into bed.

Venice Day 5 20 May 2009

The tradition commences; firstly a caffé espresso made at home to kick start the day; then a meander down to a local café for a caffé latte and a “cornetto” (pastry filled with creamy chocolate). Ahh…. Now we are ready for the day.

Today is a day for visiting mask suppliers and we head across to Giudecca, one of the islands to find our supplier. We are entranced to see so many masks that are not on the web site and place a large order! Our host takes us out to lunch at her favourite local pasta restaurant and we eat right on the edge of the canal in lovely 30 degree temperatures and have the local cuisine of cuttle fish, calamari (sea food dishes galore). Great experience and lovely to meet the people we deal with over the internet.

The next supplier is on the main island and we find a completely different experience. This is artistic chaos, with masks stacked in shelves leaning at dangerous angles, piles here and there, but lovely people, who were so warm to us. The heat was starting to get to us and I look at the idle air conditioning units longingly. We return home finding that some vaporetto drivers are in fact sane and navigate with a degree of precision and skill that delivers a smooth experience to docking the boat.

The thing we notice about Venice on this trip is that it is full of Italians! This may sound a surprising conclusion, but if you just visit St Marks Square and the main tourist spots, you will come away with the impression that Venice is over-run with tourists of every possible variety. However, we are staying away from the main tourist area and find an abundance of locals who live here. It is so nice.

The highlight of the day is that we decide at the last minute to “eat in” and arrive to find the supermarket just closing, but there is one next door still open. We rush around to find essential supplies, including wine, cheese etc and are at the check out to pay and realise that we don’t have any money on us right now. AHHH!! Kathy explains our dilemma to the proprietor, who suggests we pay tomorrow!!! He looks at our faces with jaws dropping and confirms his offer. Wow!! We are amazed at his trusting of us and walk up the street with our bags of groceries vowing to repay his trust first thing tomorrow. That would never happen in NZ!!

Venice Day 6 21 May 2009

The morning ritual starts today with a difference. EVERYONE in Venice offers a greeting. All through the day you hear “Ciao!” ringing out, often sounding like a cat “meow” from some of the women! It is a lovely aspect of local life and embodies friendship and an atmosphere of comradeship, which is very appealing. Anyway, I like to join in this ritual as well and as we exit our apartment, our neighbours are also leaving and I offer a jovial “Buon giorno” and get a response under breath of “guten morgen”. My instant feeling of offence at this lack of cultural awareness brings to mind that there must be an Italian version of “I think I’m turning Japanese – I really think so”! (hope someone remembers this song!). This was reinforced to me by the fact that the next morning I awoke to the refrain “La prossima fermata e’… Zattere” followed by “The nexta stoppa is … Zattere”. Too many trips on the vaporetti!!

Our relentless schedule continues today with a visit to another supplier we are highly suspicious of. His goods usually arrive at our place reeking of smoke, so we are expecting a heavy smoker. We seem to be always on the vaporetti and this time we get on one with our destination to meet Roberto, but while we are sitting there, we realise that there are like 20 stops and a lot of time; in fact, so much time that we are likely to miss our appointment with Roberto, who has agreed to meet us in Venice, before we travel with him by bus to his mask laboratory. Thank goodness for an Italian cell phone number that we purchased effortlessly the day before (just need to produce your passport). We ring Roberto and detect slight irritation. He only speaks Italian and is waiting for us at the bus station in over 30 degree heat.

We greet Roberto apologetically after over an hour on the vaporetto (you just don’t realise how big Venice is). He is lovely, which is great, as the night before Kathy was wondering if he was an axe murderer as he specified exact times for our meeting via text. Maybe we were going to be kidnapped?? But no, Roberto was just lovely and our being late meant we missed a direct bus and had to make a connection. He and Kathy had much lively conversation in Italian while I understood snippets. The temperature continued to rise as well and now is consistently over 30 degrees every day. We finally arrive at Roberto’s offices and find a surprising neat and tidy operation and his lovely wife. We spent a great time with them and really sensed a friendship more than just a business relationship. This strikes a resonating chord of what Dream of Italy is all about and we left feeling very warmed and satisfied. This was so different to the smoky den we expected to find. He was SO kind to us and escorted us back to a bus. Then back to Venice to get on a train to head back in a similar direction to our next supplier. This was a very different experience with these people very professional business people, with much more of a package available to people like us who wish to visit them. Va bene, as they say here.

We arrive back at the apartment pretty exhausted after a pretty hectic day and decide to eat out locally at one of the restaurants in the street just down from our apartment. We have yet to find a really “good” restaurant and we have high hopes for this one. There are lots of locals there. The highlight of the evening turns out to be the proprietor who sings. He sets up his little PA and begins to sing in rich baritone voice local songs, to which the locals all join in. At certain points, they all stand up and shout in unison. It was far more memorable than the food and the highlight of the evening. We were very tired, so had to wrench ourselves away from his voice echoing around the ancient street to return to bed “stanchi”.

Venice Day 7 22 May 2009

This morning we find a great place for breakfast and have now decoded the local code for a great “caffe latte” (double smudged milk please).

Today is officially a “day off” after some pretty hectic business days. I decide to mooch at home and leave Kathy to do her “market” experience. She takes off to the Venice Markets and has a wonderful time finding products and invaluable contacts.

Venice Day 8 22 May 2009

Today it is back to Murano to check out some more suppliers. We are continually surprised by the most promising leads turning to nothing and some small back room operations are just what we are looking for. Every where we go there is evidence of how the Chinese are taking over and Chinese replicas of Murano products are everywhere, even in Venice and you need to be very careful. There are some amazing works of art in glass here, but at prices we can’t entertain. However, we end up buying some stock to take home and get some excellent contacts for the future. Mission accomplished.

That evening we decide to go out for a meal and we find a real Italian back-street “Trattoria”. No tourists here. We book a table. Upon our return to take up our booking, the place is buzzing with locals. A milieu of dogs, smoke and loud conversations fill the air. All tables are taken! Booking a table is a novelty that they don’t really know how to handle here! We soak up the observation of raw Italian culture in backstreet Venice and I am so glad I did not bring my camera.

While our table is being freed up, we order a Campari Spritzer, to really fit in here. We saw some old guys order one for breakfast the other day!! I must say this paint stripper taste has grown on me and I have come to quite like it. For dinner we order local fare, which is basic Italian pasta and nothing terribly special, but it is nice. For the wine we note “Tocai” on the wine list and having just seen the film on the plane “Dean Spanley” we sample this and start barking (no, just kidding)…

However, I do decide to start a photographic series called “Dogs of Venice” or “Cani di Venezia”. I have some good material already. Depending on what happens I may expand this to “Cani d’Italia”.

As evening falls, what I thought was someone taking flash photos turns out to be lightning. It grows more and more and the thunder comes. We ask for the bill sensing impending rain. There is no response much and after large drops start to fall we press inside to the chaos happening in the kitchen and bar. Lots of people, a dog also nearly getting trodden on and a frazzled barmaid who finally puts a bill on the counter under a saucer. I take a chance, grab it and yes, it is ours. We could so have walked off into the night, but this is a family restaurant and trust seems to be the value here. Nice.

We walk home amongst large, but dispersed rain drops and are glad to get to our apartment before the heavens open. We find out the next morning, they never did. Great last night in Venice.

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Travel Location: Cardiff,United-Kingdom

Travel About: park,shopping,market,working-abroad,study-abroad,theatre

Ho there blogites!

It’s been hard to find time to write as my internet time is scattered and we’ve been working 12 hour days. Well…sometimes those last couple hours are spent at the pub, but the day is stressful sometimes and hey…we deserve those 2 hours of pub work. So last time I wrote I had just arrived in Cardiff, startin the theatre work. I’m interning at the Royal Welsh College of Drama and Music. It’s a small conservatory (they only take 20 new admits each year to each program) with a small “campus” to match (really only one building) but it is surrounded by a great Park. The park is beautiful as I saw on the only run I’ve taken on this trip (walking a city is plenty of exertion!). THough i was battling the rain, it felt great. It really is a nice way to see a place…just go out for a jog. See others along the way…it was amazing how many people were out and about on such a “wintery mix” day. I suppose they are so used to the rain it doesn’t even occur to them that the next thunder & lighting storm of the century looms directly above. My running speed on the way back did pick up considerably (just don’t die…just don’t die…)The student apartments we are staying in are swaaaanky! …and that was completely unexpected. similar to hamilton, as it’s in suite style (know here as a flat) but there is twice as much space, we each have our own bathroom and everything is brand new. Although, there is the fact i feel like i’m living in a security vault. Get this, i need a key to get into the entire apartment area (actually they are so high-tech…it is a scan key), the same key to get into the building, another key to get into the flat itself, and then one more key to get into my actual room. i was shocked that both the kitchen and personal bathroom were not outfitted with a key lock..i mean…i think that’s a little risky. Ohhh i forgot to mention the laundry room contains all brand new equipment, a flat screen tv and leather couches. We’re thinking of having a party in there. We spent our two free days walking around Cardiff and checkin out the sites. there is shopping galore and we found a cool little market where we bought some fruit, and i got way too excited when i saw “waiit…those look like…yes..i am in wales…welsh cakes!!” which i bought for all of us…yummm. We also found some cool little alley ways with some cool independent punky stores and a record shop i warned i may have to spend an hour or so in. i talked to some kids there and found some sweet welsh punk music…rock! and apparently this record store claims to be the oldest…ever….established in 1894. who knows if it’s true or just the welsh gettin all excited about having invented the song and all that…yep….invented the song. hey…someone had to…

As for the rest of our time not spent lounging about in the apartment, we’re completely shielded from the weather inside a black box called the theater. For the first few days we recreated the space we will have in Edinburgh, which we also build from the ground up. It has been calculated that in any one day during the Edinburgh Fringe Festival 3000 performances will take place. Any available space is used for theatre. We will be in a tiny church. It was educational and rewarding to build the theatre from nothing. saw the entire construction and wiring of a lighting rig, the sound equipment and all the staging and seats (no wiring involved here obviously). but recently, although the days are long, unfortunately I can’t say that all this time has been spent working. It’s weird because I thought every day would be INTENSE working, but in fact it seems like we’re often desperate to find things to do and just stand around chatting about our next tea time to come (yes…we take tea breaks). But once we’re in Edinburgh i know this will pick up when we’re running 3-4 shows a day with about a half hour for turnaround time…yeeeah. And apparently pubbing is expected every night of the week. Oh boy. the two shows I’m mainly working on include a “science” show which is more like a mess of science tricks, video, and music all disjointedly interspersed. Some cool moments but it’s all so jumbled together that it’s tiring to watch, especially so because the actors are well…not exactly actors….quite painful at times i must say. Luckily they are awesome people so it’s no trouble to work with them…just slightly painful to watch it at times. The other show, in which I have the responsibility of 58 cues (and that’s just for visual powerpoint slides) is a musical about child abuse, performed by kids aged 13-20 years old…hmmmm. It’s pretty much like watching a high school musical…and we all know how that feels for an hour. Another show, about Dylan Thomas’s life is cool though. We’ll see how I feel about all of these after 3 weeks.

something completely different: don’t worry! we easily made time in our busy schedule to pick up the new Harry Potter book at midnight on the 15th…quite exciting! We stood in line for over an hour. I’ve only spent a couple of days reading and i’m already 250 pages in. Ahhh to revel in our nerdiness. because our days end so late we often just start our free time at around 8 or 9 or 10pm. Romina’s birthday was yesterday and after the shows we all went out for “Curry” (Indian food) and ate our second dinners at 11pm. then some cake of course. the food was amazing…but the feeling in my stomach that night and the next morning was more like bed-spring bending, which it actually was making a loud pop as i rolled my gluttonous self over. it was comical.

So you ask…what is the title of this piece? making some political statement? ha…of course not…me? well anyway,…we all know that it rains incessantly in Wales, but the rain they’ve had this July has been unheard of and quite odd…even the locals (two specific theatre pals) are confused by the crazy weather. There is serious flooding in parts of the country, and thousands of people have been evacuated…oy. i’m hoping the island doesn’t sink while i’m here. that would just be no fun. Evidently the reports so far have said that havne’t had this amount of rain (within these past 3 months) for 230 years. record breaking. As Daz said “i’ve seen rain…i mean…of course, i live in wales…but never anything like this”. Maybe the weather gods wanted me to feel like i was back at hamilton! either way…rainy or sunshiney, it really is nice here and i can’t wait to see other parts of the country on our drive to Edinburgh. unfortunately seeing family has proved difficult as both the phone numbers grammy gave me didn’t work…sad!! perhaps i’ll just have to return to make the visits and manage to join the ice hockey team here (yes they have a rink in town…new and everything) Well, see you in Edinburgh!

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Travel Location: El-Naranjo,Guatemala

Travel About: cultural-immersion,shopping

Our border crossing back in to Guatemala was less than pleasant. What was to be a more adventurous journey, cheaper and more scenic, was a journey in to the heart of darkness – more tortuous, more expensive and aside from the occasional glimpse of natural wilderness, more unattractive. Of course, my opinion of the route taken is some what tainted by an incident that loomed large for an excruciating half hour or more.

Our route from Palenque, Chiapas, Mexico, involved taking a bus from Palenque east to the small town of Tenosique de Pino Saunez; another bus to the border town of El Martillo; then making our way through a stretch of road stalls, in no mans land, to some riverboats, one of which would take us down river to the Guatemalan immigration town of El Naranjo.

‘Superman’ was super fast when it came to speaking Spanish.

At the boarder town of El Martillo we arrived to find market stalls that went on for seemingly more than a kilometre. While Tuk Tuks stood in waiting they would not take heed of our pleading to be couriered down the kilometre stretch to the riverboats. This was at first hard to comprehend. Our usual experience of boarders, airports and bus stations, as is no surprise, is akin to that of a breadcrumb flung into air populated by starving pigeons. It soon became apparent as to why our conditional bread was undesirable. The road was like an ants glaciated mountain range, full of craters and sharp peaks, thus only the terrain of 4WDs, none of which were available.

So we walked.

I have a philosophy that applies to physical pain that must be endured to achieve a certain end. It states that one should seek to achieve that end as quickly as possible. My girlfriend Amy is small and is more partial to the take it slow approach. As a result of this we agreed that I could go ahead and wait for her at certain points along the trail.

My first stop was a pirated music and DVD stall. I offloaded my backpack, guitar and daypack on the side of the road and took my daypack, with my computer, ‘creative’ speaker, camera, rechargeable batteries and battery recharger, and left it to the side of the shop entrance while perusing the wares. Amy soon arrived and directed my attention to a haberdashery store on the other side of the road. With a runny nose the purchasing of a handkerchief was high on the agenda, I crossed the road and enquired to find that no handkerchiefs were available. Turning, I found Amy talking with some guys in a 4WD pickup about a lift to the river. They wanted to charge an exorbitant amount so we bargained them down from opposite ends of the car. Once we had reached a suitable amount we started loading up and were away.

The journey to the river involved, after passing the market stalls, a descent in to a landscape that made me think of the Serengeti plains. The road was worse than before and flanked by grassy planes thinly populated with trees, very much alike in appearance to that of acacias.

We arrived at the river and a beach of docked long boats, serviced by a tienda (shop) of corrugated iron. As I purchased some lemon tortrix chips after depositing my backpack and guitar in the boat Amy asked where the daypack was.

Yes, where was the day pack?

I became a little unbalanced at this point.

The loss of my computer was not something I could deal with as a prospect. I went into a state of intense shock, returned to the 4WD and stated that I would pay the driver anything for a return drive to the pirated DVD store. He was more than willing to oblige.

We arrived to find, surprise, that the shop had been closed. What had been a pirated DVD scaffolding shack/shop was now a sheet of black plastic.

With the assistance of Mr 4WD I started questioning the proprietors of the neighbouring shops. I soon discovered that the man with a convenient closing time went by the name of ‘Superman’. Not so convinced of this self-attributed status I continued my hot pursuit. The investigative talents of the driver proved far more successful and I soon found my self being guided, by another storeowner, up a mountainside past pigpens and squawking chickens.

Superman lived in a run down shack. He hid his surprise at my arrival well, invited me inside and closed the door, closing off my mountain guide from any kind of inclusion in the proceedings. I found the contents of my bag spewing out of said bag and on to the floor. My computer was open and on. I proceeded to pack it up.

With bag in hand, I thanked him and went to leave. He stopped me and started on some narration about a trip to Guatemala City for which he required cash.

Now ‘Superman’ was super fast when it came to speaking Spanish.

Despite having achieved a working Spanish by this time this guy seemed to possess a special talent of side stepping all possible points of lingual recognition.

He seemed to be stating that as the computer was important to me I should compensate him for giving it back. I tried to communicate that he had in fact closed his shop upon discovering my computer and that he was returning my bag because circumstances required it, not due to any philanthropy on his part.

I began to get a little concerned that any attempt to leave in defiance of his desires would be met with a violent act. I was concerned that that farmer’s tool, ubiquitous in Mexico and Guatemala, the machete, was only an arms length away. Of course, the fact that he was not a farmer didn’t really occur to me.

I offered him a 100Q note (US$20). He scoffed and showed me a wad of notes that would have to amount to something like 10,000Q. To me the fact that he would not accept 100Q because he had 10,000Q did not hold water. All sympathy for his financial plight as a poor man shifted. It was time to leave. I gave him $20US and 200Q, didn’t take no for an answer and left with my health.

The 4WD returned me to the river and the boat in which my girlfriend was waiting. The boat sped up river, flanked on both sides by lush jungle, and we were soon in El Naranjo, Guatemala.

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Travel Location: Jeffrey’s-Bay,South-Africa

Travel About: food-&-wine,beach,shopping,relaxation,surfing

The second Tovah and I arrived at our amazing hostel, Ubuntu Backpackers, we decided to make our stay in J-Bay 2 days instead of 1. The hostel is a beautiful house overlooking the ocean. It is owned and run by Jamie and Elizna (a really cool, young couple who have backpacked before and thus know exactly what backpackers like in a hostel). They put most, if not all, the work into the hostel (i.e. painting/decorating it) and it is outstanding! It was the first time since Tovah and I began our travels that we did not sleep in our sleep sacs, but instead slept under the clean sheets and on the pillow…we even got to shower without our sandals on! In addition to the place itself, they have 2 dogs that Tovah and I could not get enough of.

Anyway, when we arrived there the power was out. Since the kitchen appliances were therefore not working, Jamie and Elizna told us (and Mark, the other guy from Australia that was staying there- it was just the 3 of us there) they were going to have a braai (a barbecue, but better). So, Tovah and I went to the grocery store to get food for the braai. It was quite an experience as the power was out there and it was very dark. There was a security guard shinning a flashlight on the food so we could see what we were getting. When we got back Tovah and I seasoned our veggies and Tovah’s meat, and they took care of the rest. It was a feast! Another bonus point for the already wonderful hostel. Oh yeah, we also managed to buy wine even though it was Sunday and they usually don’t sell alcohol on Sundays (maybe they didn’t see what it was since it was dark??).

After lunch Tovah and I took a walk through the very quiet surfer town. Not many places were open because it was Sunday, as well as because the power was out. Even though it was extremely windy, we walked along the beach, watched a surfer, and just enjoyed this beautiful town. The power was still out when we got back and it was beginning to get dark, so they lit a bunch of candles in the house. We were very relaxed and happy to just talk with the others, and read/write in our journals by candle light! When the power did come back on, we took advantage of the free internet (another bonus point- also free breakfast ) and spent the rest of our night updating the blog for all of you to read.

The next day was spent shopping at the factory outlet surf stores (i.e. Billabong, Quicksilver, Roxy..), and relaxing on the decks overlooking the ocean at the hostel. We were not ready to leave this great place and great people, but we knew there was more we wanted to see and do and so the next morning we headed off to Knysna.

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Travel Location: Niteroi,Brazil

Travel About: food-&-wine,shopping,garden

So… Niteroi was much like a pause in time. We recently had our camera break while we were in Petropolís and getting a new one proved to be a very long process. You see, like most countries in the world, you have to pay taxes for imported electronics. However, Brazil has taken this to an extreme… cameras here are sometimes 2 or 3 times more expensive than in the US. So, our idea was to buy a camera online, have it sent to Andre´s mom, and have her send it to Brazil. All of that pretty much worked as planned, except that when it got to Niteroi we had to pay 60% of the cost of the camera!!! Fortunately, it was still cheaper than buying a new camera here, and we had the opportunity to spend some quality time with Andre´s family.

We got to tour Niteroi and enjoyed its diverse cuisine. Picnic at the beautiful Botanical Garden, fabulous Japanese food at Gendai with Mario and Noely, fancy Botiquim São Nunca with Thiago and Ana, not so fancy but delicious botiquim with Luis, Australian food at Outback with Hugo, Vóvó Justa mingau at 11am every morning, homemade food at Cristina´s house, some delicious stuffed hashbrowns at Batata Roastie and many dinners at Filipe and Marina´s house (Note: all of the while, Filipe and Marina where there with us in our eating frenzy). Ok… so we basically ate lots then waited for camera, then ate some more!!! At least we can say that our Niteroi experience was very delicious.

Ok… so we basically ate lots then waited for camera, then ate some more!!!

We also got the chance to go to Rio a couple of times and there we met up with Andre´s father´s side of the family with tia Conceição, tio Durval, Regina and her boyfriend, Rogerio and Andreia, and yes, we ate there too. Another encounter that was really special, was meeting with Arly. He is the guy that helped Andre´s mom take care of the children while she had to go to work. He is much like a brother to both Andre and Aline. Unfortunately we did not get a chance to meet up with Ana, Andre´s sister, due to some scheduling conflicts.

So with happy tummies and with our new camera we were once again ready to hit the road. We arranged to stay at the Andre´s uncle house in Santo Antonio and with Filipe and Marina we headed up to the Mountain ranges of the state of Minas Gerais.

Português:

Então… Niterói foi como uma parada no tempo. Recentemente nossa câmera quebrou enquanto estávamos em Petrópolis, e conseguir uma nova provou ser um processo bem longo. Como na maioria dos países do mundo, você tem que pagar impostos por eletrônicos importados. Entretanto, o Brasil levou isso ao extremo… câmeras aqui chegam a custar 2 ou 3 vezes mais caro que nos EUA. Então, nossa idéia era comprar uma câmera online, enviar para a mãe de André, e ela mandar para o Brasil. Tudo isso funcionou como planejado, exceto que quando ela chegou em Niterói, tivemos que pagar 60% do valor da câmera!!! Felizmente, ainda assim foi mais barato do que comprar uma câmera nova aqui, e nós tivemos a oportunidade de nos divertir com a família de André.

Nós passeamos por Niterói e desfrutamos de sua cozinha diversa. Pic-nic no Jardim Botânico, comida Japonesa fabulosa com Mario e Noely, um arrumado Botequim São Nunca com Thiago e Ana, não tão arrumado mas delicioso botequim com Luis, comida Australiana no Outback com Hugo, mingau da vovó Justa às 11 da manhã todo dia, comida caseira na casa de Cristina, deliciosa Batata Roastie recheada e muitos jantares na casa de Filipe e Marina (Nota: em todos os outros, Filipe e Marina estavam lá conosco em nosso frenesi gastronômico). Ok… basicamente nós comemos muito, esperamos pela câmera, e então comemos mais um pouco!!! Pelo menos podemos dizer que nossa experiência em Niterói foi muito deliciosa.

Nós também tivemos a chance de ir ao Rio algumas vezes e lá nos encontramos com o lado da família do pai de André, com tia Conceição, tio Durval, Regina e seu namorado, Rogerio e Andreia, e sim, nós comemos lá também. Outro encontro que foi muito especial foi com Arly. Foi ele que ajudou a mãe de André a cuidar dos filhos enquanto ela tinha que ir trabalhar. Ele é como um irmão para André e Aline. Infelizmente nós não tivemos chance de encontrar com Ana, irmã de André, devido à conflitos de horários.

Então, com nossas panças felizes e com nossa nova câmera, estávamos novamente prontos para cair na estrada. Marcamos de ir para a casa do tio de André em Santo Antônio e, com Filipe e Marina, rumamos para o lado das Montanhas no estado de Minas Gerais.

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Travel Location: Dubai,United-Arab-Emirates

Travel About: cultural-immersion,shopping

after a long journey from Sydney…. I was greeted by warm dusty weather and also truly warm people of dubai (actually 80% of the population is immigrants from all over the world) must say from the airport you see the construction labor work force standing in ques for their visas and job contracts… only place in the planet where you can see the merging of the cultures… I would say after doing the touristy must dos such as the desert safari and the city tour of the gold souq which is in Deaira region and a museum in Bur-dubai region…. I get down to business with some serious jewellery shopping!!! I head to the deira goldsouq which would have around 200 plus odd stores small to medium sized keeping stocks that would blind any women! I was prepared to haggle and get the best price for my self-reward-gift which I think i deserved after sloughin out hours behind my desk! oh my it seemed like a daunting task but being a purchase manager I have mastered gettin the best for my quid! equipped with comfy sneakers and a bottle of water… after cheking out atleast 75 or more! shops.. i found the perfect store managed my smart young blokes and guess wht?! they even had n aussie connection! as soon as they realised I ve been thru almost all the shops the chaps first offered me take a seat while they showed me all their beautiful jewellery meanwhile once a deal was goin thru I was served with fresh orange juice! yes in dubai the customer is treated like a queen in my case atleast in Prime Gems, I was determinded not to max out my credit limit in jus this store and so after buying a beautiful diamond earrings I head of hunting, and I found out that the blokes took really good care of me and their price was the best when i compared other stores and I was back in prime gems and their level of excitement was even more n i was greeted with in their indian aussie mix accent “hey mate we told ya u wud be back ” yes the damage was done I actually maxed out all my 3 cards and begged them to spare me for taxi fare n i get another smart alec reply “no worries mate we’ll drop you” yes i ended up buying a beautiful eternity ring in white gold, a pear shaped 0.50ct solitare pendant and a stunning diamond with saphire bangle. Yes they can resize and and also remake your old jewellery in style you want in a days time and also deliver it at your hotel! after a tough tiring day I head for dinner at one the many cruise restaurants for some great arabic food and music… But yes even today I look at the spark on my diamond and i remeber those blokes who pampered me so well at Prime Gems and to my surprise the same jewellery at home stores was 3 times! of what I paid or stll paying as a matter of fact!! Yes i m looking forward for some more retail therapy when i go back in december at the dubai city of gold as they call it…. cheers

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Travel Location: Alnwick,United-Kingdom

Travel About: natural-wonder,food-&-wine,shopping,tour,garden,bookstore

We hadn’t really known what to do today, the weather was poor and buses not as frequent because it’s a Sunday, but our host came to the rescue. He is going into Alnwick today to feed his daughter’s fish, so offers us a lift! This saves us calling a taxi and means we can have a good look round before catching the last bus home.

In the end it turns into more of a guided tour of the area, including a photo opportunity across the river from Alnwick Castle. The sun even comes out so that we can take a lovely photograph. Then we cross the river by a bridge guarded by an amazingly straight tailed lion.

Children … can play with toy diggers, filling the buckets with water and racing round the paths with it.

Our guide dropped us off just outside the gates to Alnwick Gardens, a wonderful modern garden created by the Duchess of Northumberland. It’s still a work in progress and she needs millions to complete it, but is currently doing her best to earn a bit more back in Newbury. Apparently she is giving a talk at Cheam School at £30 a head!

Our first stop is the fantastical tree house. It’s designed to look like a castle in the trees, something more at home in the ‘Lord of the Rings’. In fact it’s a restaurant, and a popular one at that. We popped in to take a look, before bouncing off on the rope bridges.

You enter the garden after having your ticket zapped, just like a library ticket. Then you walk through a modern structure that reminds me a bit of the Eden Project domes, before being confronted by an incredible cascade. Everyone make a b-line for it and the fountains are in full flow as we approach. At the bottom water overflows down the walls, so in the right weather children could play in it. As it is they can play with toy diggers, filling the buckets with water and racing round the paths with it.

We walk up the steps beside the cascade, snatching views into the hornbeam corridor that runs alongside it. At the top we found a restored walled garden full of beautiful flowerbeds and gentle pools and fountains. We are just admiring one of these when one of the water engineers appears. He’s checking the fountains to see what needs working on. We can’t see anything wrong with the one we are looking at, until he points out a few blocked nozzles – that’s what we like to see, a perfectionist!

After looking at the top of the garden we find ourselves taking a tour of the Poison Garden. Here are plants that are toxic to eat, touch and even smell. Some I recognise, some I know by reputation only. The favourite for all children has to be the mandrake, made famous by Harry Potter books. Apparently we could pull it up without it screaming. There are a couple of plants that warrant their own iron cages. They have a special license to grow hemp (from which we get cannabis), coco (heroin) and opium poppies (which they told us how extract!). Worryingly at the hemp and coco cages appeared to be empty – had someone beaten us to it?

Time for a quick break and we headed back into the pavilion. Apparently in the summer water is circulated through the double skinned plastic roof to cool it. We have coffee and cakes whilst watching a local BBC radio gardening programme being recorded.

Fully refreshed we take a look round a bamboo maze, which gives three of us no problem at all. After finding the centre and getting back out again we were working out where to go next when we realised Y was missing. She was well and truly lost inside and we had to go back in to get her. Must make a mental note never to go to Hampton Court with her!

The last element of the garden contains a series of water sculptures, demonstrating some of the properties and science of water. It’s wonderful and gives us all the opportunity to thoroughly wet.

Eventually we take a walk around the town, visiting those shops that are open – not many as it happens. First we make sure we can find the bus station and check the time of the last bus, then we head back to the old railway station that is now a Mecca for book lovers, Barter Books. Imagine the most fantastic second-hand book shop you can. Now forget it because this place is so much better! They quote a newspaper article that describes it as “the British Library of second-hand book shops”.

It really is special and makes full use of the wonderful Victorian station that it fills. Once you find your book on the bulging shelves you can help yourself to a cup of tea or coffee and a slice of cake, putting your money in the nearby honesty box. Then you can wander into the old waiting room where a roaring fire and deep leather armchairs await. What breaks our heart is that we only have half an hour before we have to leave! We are definitely coming back.

Once you have found your book and reach the till, you can admire the magnificent mural that fills the roof space. It depicts a two tier gallery in a library and from it you are watched by some of our greatest literary authors. Oscar Wilde, Ernest Hemmingway, Virginia Wolfe, to name just a few.

Eventually we have to leave and make our way back to the bus station. We arrive in plenty of time and provide some entertainment for a group of teenagers who are hanging out there. It’s a strange experience, back home they’d probably be hurling four lettered abuse at us. Here they genuinely seem to be interested in who we are, where we come from and why we are here. They aren’t angels, Y gently tells them off for littering, but my goodness what a difference.

The bus ride is very enjoyable and gives us a good look at the local countryside. It also give the others to show me where they walked yesterday and indeed calls at Caster, before heading back to Seahouses.

After a wander around in Seahouses we head for the Ship Inn on the seafront for dinner. I’m not convinced by this overcrowded pub, but evidently it’s busy because it’s good. I ordered steak (very rare) and chips and amazingly that’s exactly what I get. I’m always disappointed that no one seems prepared to cook steak properly any more. If you request a rare or blue steak it inevitably appears to be medium or medium rare. Presumably this is an over active Health and Safety reaction. From that moment the Ship had completely won me over and we had a wonderful evening. In a few months time it will be absolutely perfect, when smoking is finally banned in public places!

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Travel Location: Dubai,United-Arab-Emirates

Travel About: architecture,food-&-wine,shopping,nightlife,market

My second day in Dubai was lots of fun. It started with another drive through Dubai. This time Ursh and I wanted to check out some of the souks (markets). The traffic here is terrible though, and it took over an hour to get somewhere that in Sydney probably would have only taken 10 minutes.

We went to the Old Souk, on the creek. It’s situated in the older, more traditional part of Dubai and kind of reminds me of Thailand as there are lots of very narrow streets with many shops on either side. We only had a quick look around, as it was pretty touristy with souvenirs, toys etc being sold. We drove past the Gold Souk, but unfortunately didn’t go in, as we had run out of time because of the traffic.

Next, we got a taxi to the Burj Al Arab. It is so so cool. You go inside into this huge foyer with a massive fountain, fish tanks for walls, and gold everywhere. We took lots of photos in here and then made our way up to the Sky View bar on the 27th floor for High Tea. For 350 dirhams (about $100) we got a bottle of Moet, berries with cream, finger sandwiches, mini rolls, cakes, pastries, scones and jam/cream, and tea/coffee. Plus everything is unlimited, you can get extra servings of anything you want! The view here was amazing. It looks out over the ocean (where you can also see the Palm Tree shaped development they are making) and back to the beach and city. This is definitely something you have to add to your list of things to do before you die!

Ursh and I then walked to the Souk Madinat Jumeirah, where we wandered around through different stalls for a few hours. Its part of a hotel complex, with lots of bars and restaurants too. Friday and Saturday are the weekend here, so there were lots of people out celebrating the end of the week.

We met up with a few of Ursh’s friends and went to 2 different bars for cocktails. Then we went to a club in a different part of Dubai called the Lodge. Sydney clubs don’t really compare to clubs here!It was packed with people and the music was great. We stayed out dancing til about 3am, and then made our way home.

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Travel Location: Stratford-upon-Avon,United-Kingdom

Travel About: architecture,big-city,historic,shopping,nightlife

Well, friends, about a week or so has passed since I’ve last managed to write on this blog. The main mental block about doing so comes down to one thing: the internet. My connection here is slow, if present at all—which is rare. Pictures take even longer, as I generally want to throw my computer off my lovely balcony long before they finally upload, about an hour later, due to slowness and my incapability to cope with said slowness…So please bear with me! Hahaha…

Thursday brought more class, as usual, and that night we went bar hopping…not crawling, as Jenn or Laura can tell you, as that generally involves being so sloshed that you can’t stand upright. Instead, we hopped. Literally… Okay, I’m kidding, we walked. But bar walking sounds so uninteresting…

And so we started at the Student Union, since they have relatively cheap drinks. I’m starting to adjust to the money, and not converting as much in my head…to me, a cheap drink of Guinness is about 2 pounds 50 pence, which is about 5 dollars a pint here…ah well, I’m not likely to find it any cheaper! We headed off to the smoky but atmospheric Gloucester Arms, and eventually to the Mango Lounge, one of the few 2 a.m. bars in the area—and stayed until about 2 a.m., dancing. It’s funny, since I never dance in America! It seems since coming to Europe, I’ve been dancing like a fiend.

So Friday was my first Friday off…and it was spectacular. I went out, all on my own, and saw the sights. I started on a tube ride towards Charing Cross, since I knew that’s the main stop my mother used when she visited London all those years ago…but it was closed. Thus I got off the train and threw myself into the insane fray they call Oxford Circus on a Friday. Holy crap. It was packed with people walking every which way, shopping, window shopping, eating, chatting, shouting—you name it. It was wonderful. I people watched for a bit, then made my way down Regent Street (a place I’d read of in some book somewhere, so my interest was piqued) towards Picadilly. Another bustling frenzy of people around the statue of Eros, one of the most prominent “meeting places” in London. From there I headed to Pall Mall, and eventually to Trafalgar Square. The National Gallery was there, and I considered going inside, but it was too nice to be indoors. So I sat on the side of one of the lions, looking at Nelson’s Column and all the sightseers around me.

Eventually I made my way to the Thames, where I crossed this bridge (unfortunately I forget the name of it now) and saw some really great views of Parliament, Big Ben, the London Eye, and the river. Of course I went into tourist mode, snapping pictures of everything—including the street performers along the banks of the river, dressed up in snazzy silver costumes and face paint, pretending to be pewter statues. It was getting chilly at this point, so with a mind of heading for the Underground, I wound my way around the Thames and across again until I was standing in front of Westminster Abbey. It was about 5:45 p.m., and the bells were ringing in the tower. It obviously wasn’t calling the time, so I decided to check it out. A man stood at the gate, either letting people in or turning them away in what seemed like random fashion. I stepped a little closer and overheard the truth. It turns out I have marvelous luck: they were calling worshippers in for evensong, and only turning away tourists who didn’t want to partake of the service.

Needless to say, I quickly decided I did, and asked if I could attend. Instant entrée! I walked down the long path to the church (ridiculously feeling like this was a supremely momentous occasion) and passed through the doors. And what can I say? It was breathtaking. The sheer age of the place was enough to give me goose-bumps (it was built at the order of William the Conqueror!), much less the brilliant stained glass, the impressive statues, and the grand, vaulted ceilings… The religious and civic importance was not lost on me, either—this is where every single King and Queen of the English monarchy was crowned. This was the seat of power at the beginning of such times. Totally amazing.

A clergyman showed me to my seat, and the service began. I was taking surreptitious looks around, seeing whose tombs I could spot from my disadvantageous location (I was one of the last people allowed in for the service, and so didn’t get the best of seats), until the choir sang. I’ve never heard anything so lovely in my life. I’ve always loved chamber music, but hearing it live, and in such a setting, was remarkable. Again, I was moved to near-tears… Man, I’m such a wuss! Haha…

Not too much else happened on Friday…I went home and ate some much-needed dinner. Woot woot! Haha.

On Saturday, I woke up early to meet Steve at the London Bridge tube station, so we could see Borough Market. It was wonderful! All food, and lots of vendors—we ended up grabbing some wild boar sandwiches and partaking of every tester item we could spot. I could look at food all day (I am a hospitality major, after all!) but Steve was getting tired with endless vegetable bins and iced fish, so we headed up the road to St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Now this kid works in an office building that is at most about 200 yards from the Cathedral. His office window looks straight at the dome. Steve, however, has never been inside St. Paul’s…crazy! Needless to say, I decided it was high time I remedy the situation. And so we started in the crypt, and I pointed out all the greats: Admiral Nelson, Christopher Wren, William Blake, Duke of Wellington, Florence Nightingale…It was kind of fun to give a Brit the tour of his own hometown cathedral. I mentioned the story about Nelson’s death in Trafalgar, and how, in order to preserve his body, they put his corpse in a barrel of liquor; and how, upon arriving in England and getting the body interred, the men of his ship drank the liquor he’d been bottled up in, as a tribute.

My favorite bit, however, was when I showed him Wellington’s tomb, unwittingly assuming that this man, an Englishman, would know who Wellington was. How wrong was I! He had a vague notion of the Battle of Waterloo, and when I explained that it was the final victory of England against Napoleon, Steve queried about Bonaparte, “He was French or something, wasn’t he?” Ha! I threatened to disown him (as I’m personally enthralled with history) but forgave him, as he’s clearly a math-and-science type…  I suppose that comes with being a banker. All part of the territory.

Anyways, the top two galleries of St. Paul’s were finally open, so I decided to brave the steps. The first gallery we reached was amazing, but poor Steve has what he terms “a height problem”, so he didn’t make it to the uppermost gallery. It was so tiny and crammed up there, but it felt, from that vantage point, as though the city of London was at my command. Like tiny ants. Quite fun.

After St. Paul’s we went shopping for a coat for Steve. Starting around Oxford Circus, we made our way to the oh-so-posh Bond Street, famous for ages as the center of high-end shopping. We went into all sorts of designer clothing stores, and I dared not look at the price tags, lest I get a coronary on the spot.

Steve never did find a coat, but alas we made our way back to Earl’s Court, where he finally got to see my flat and meet my roommates, and we all had fun. Later that night, Flat 3 (from now on meaning Laura, Jenn, Courtney, and me) headed out to the student union for some drinks. Afterwards, Jenn and our friend, Kevin, decided to go see a band, The Sounds. The show was in the Soho area at a place called The Mean Fiddler. I hadn’t been to that area before, so my first impression of the place was Soho at it’s height: A late Saturday night, with young people of all descriptions out and about: going to shows, drinking/drunk, singing in the streets. There were lots of night clubs there, and gay bars, and 24 hour restaurants. I’m under the impression that Soho is the portion of the city that never sleeps! We were running late, so I didn’t get to stop and look around as much as I’d have liked…

But it turns out we hurried up only to wait: isn’t that always the story? The line to get into The Mean Fiddler was around the whole building. Again, I felt underdressed for the occasion—or maybe overdressed, as the girls around me were in the latest street-fashion styles, which apparently don’t consist off all that much, haha. I still felt like a sore thumb, but when we finally were let in, it didn’t matter much; there were so many people surrounding the bars and on the dance floor that you could barely see anything of anyone, expect maybe the tops of their heads.

The set only lasted about half an hour, but they had a good sound. After that, there was a DJ to keep the crowd moving. I went out there and half-danced, half bounced, for the next several hours. I had stopped drinking at the Union, but Jenn and Kevin were in full force, so I had that fun sober-person-watching-the-not-quite-sober-people-dance experience—always a treat. Jenn was reeling random guys in that night: first the creepy Italian guy, next the not as creepy Turkish guy. My favorite patron at the place was this old, white-haired man—he must have been about 75 or 80 years old—in a suit, dancing at the front of the stage by himself, with a tall, cold Budweiser and closed eyes, taking in the music. Sometimes you just can’t help but wonder about people—where they come from, what their story is…it was interesting to watch.

The Underground had closed by the time we decided to leave, so we took a bus back to Kensington…and walked the rest of the way in the cold. Despite our fast pace to keep the cold away, we didn’t get home until 4:45 a.m. that night…so I obviously decided sleeping in on Sunday was prudent.

I got up around 11, and Laura and I headed off to Camden Town Market. This is an amazing place—similar in a few ways to Portobello Road, but generally quite different. Camden Town doesn’t have any produce; they only have clothes, antiques, other assorted goods, and tons of food vendors. It’s absolutely huge, even compared to Portobello Road, which is definitely sizable in its own right. This place is open 7 days a week, though, so they have lots of permanent booths and stores set up in the market style.

Camden Town Market is where counter culture comes out to play. You see tons of punk rock and goth stores, along with Asian-inspired merchandise, Indian food, and trendy clothes. Lots of dyed hair and skintight black pants all around. Mohawks, funky jewelry, seemingly mismatched outfits, and deceptively cool stares by cigarette-smoking emo kids are the norm. Plus a few tourists to spice up the batch.

All in all, a really interesting combination.

And so we stewed in the melting pot that afternoon; I bargained over a jacket and managed to get two salesmen in a bidding war (which was actually kind of fun), bought some Indian jewelry and a beautiful pashima, and ate some great Chinese. Laura and I pitched in on a brightly colored Indian patchwork wall quilt, which should cover up the plain white walls of our flat quite nicely. Doyle ate a crepe, I ogled the tribal art and bongo drums, and all was right with the world.

We stayed there until early evening, and headed back to the flat. Courtney and I had plans to go watch the championship football game that evening, and so shortly headed out to the Sports Café near Leicester Square.

Now, Courtney was born and raised in Shreveport, Louisiana, and I’m obviously from Chicago, so the Bear-Saints game promised to make the night interesting. The winner would go on to the Superbowl, so the stakes were high. After getting through the line (it’s amazing how many Americans can come out of the London woodwork when a major NFL game is playing) we settled in with some good old fashioned bottled American beers: Miller Genuine Draft. Haha! Up until that night, it had been pretty much all Guinness for me, but I decided the Bears game called for an import.

I must say that it is truly bizarre to consider an American beer an “import”…

I felt like I was in a secret society at the sports bar; like we were all part of an army of expatriates meeting up in some foreign land…I ran into people from all over America: the businessman from D.C. who was waiting for the Patriots game to start, the girl from Tulane University in New Orleans, the lanky kid from (of all places) Lincoln Park who was studying abroad and rooting for Da Bears… Truthfully, I was completely overcome by the oddity of standing in the middle of London, surrounded by Urlacher jerseys.

I was ecstatic that night (since the Bears spanked New Orleans) and exchanged hugs with the random Chicagoans around me, not really knowing them at all, but feeling this commonality of shared pride…it was amazing.

Taking the tube home that night sort of dampened my spirits, though… Courtney and I ended up sitting across from three English girls. Nothing was said at first, but eventually they were snickering among themselves, and I overheard one of the girls complaining about how many Americans were out that night….and how “they all talk like Americans, and they all act like Americans,” all the while staring at Courtney and I with expressions of disgust, as though that were something to be sorry for. I sank from euphoria to a level approximately equal to dirt. Of course I wanted to question her assumptions, but I saw no real point in it. And such was my first experience of “The Ugly Brit.”

Not much happened in the next few days, until Wednesday. We went on a BLC field trip to Warwick Castle and Stratford-upon-Avon. Warwick was interesting; it’s been handed down the generations since the middle ages, but is now owned by the Madame Tussaud Company (which is the famous wax museum in London). And so Warwick has been transformed into a glimpse of living history: they have the dungeon and torture chamber full of actual period equipment (complete with dramatic sound recordings, of course), a haunted tower where one of the Earls of Warwick is said to have been murdered by an angry servant (which was nicely decorated with some convincing fake cobwebs and eerie lighting), and even the state rooms are on display in their full period décor (along with a few wax figures to complete the realistic look).

Actually, the wax figures are insanely real looking. There is one portion of the castle set aside to look as it once did when the “Kingmaker” Richard Neville, the 16^th Earl of Warrick, owned the castle. The rooms, through the use of period décor and wax figures, depict the day of Richard’s ride to battle against King Edward IV. There are sound reels, music, and recorded voices to complete the effect. It was actually quite cool…

Wax figures were again used to portray, in a series of rooms, what a 1898 weekend party might have looked like, with wax figures in the likeness of Baron Brooke, the then-Earl of Warwick, and his infamously scandalous wife, Daisy…along with a young Winston Churchill, the Prince of Wales at the time, and a bunch of other people. There was even a wax figure maid pouring a bath of real water!

The theatricality of the place was fun to look at, but I’m not sure it helped or hindered my ability to see the building as a place of historical significance…

After Warwick, we headed to Stratford, where we first stopped at Ann Hathaway’s cottege—the place where William Shakespeare’s wife lived. The architecture in Stratford is amazing. Buildings from the 16^th century are all around, still in use. I love the organic look of them; no straight lines, very individualized. I’ve decided I’m totally moving into that cottage, by the way, haha. It’s perfect for me.

I saw furniture that Shakespeare himself used to sit in—even his bed—and it was amazing. The only real problem with the whole thing is that when I have to do these big field trips with the rest of the program, I don’t get to see or experience things as much as I’d like to. For example, in the cottage, the entire room was completely full of students, and so my view of the place consisted mainly of the floor and ceiling, with a few patches of wall, here and there, wherever a human wasn’t standing…Also, I felt rushed through the places, whereas I’d much rather let it all sink in. Ah well, there’s nothing much I can do about it.

We then went to Shakespeare’s birthplace with the group, and as this wasn’t a guided tour (like Ann’s cottage) I was able to take my time more. I stood in the room where he was born, and it was amazing. I had bits of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” floating through my head all that afternoon…

Sadly, Will’s house is no longer standing; only that of his parents’. In the 1800’s, apparently, the owner of Shakespeare’s old house was so sick and tired of sightseers knocking on his door and asking if they could see the Bard’s house, that he rather perversely (and incredibly sadly) tore the place down, just to spite everyone. That’s such a crime! And so I went to the Holy Trinity Church, along the River Avon, and saw his grave inside the cathedral. It was a beautiful spot, and his tomb had this funny inscription warning grave robbers away—it reminded me of the curse of the mummy or something, haha. Nevertheless, it was quite cool to know that such a brilliant man and historical figure was right there: under that big, flat rock.

Flat 3 headed out to a bar that the actors of the Royal Shakespeare Company supposedly frequent before and after shows: a little old building with a sign over the door that on one side reads, “The Dirty Duck” and on the other advertises “The Black Swan”. Consequentially, I’m not entirely sure which pub I had a pint in that afternoon, but it was a good time regardless.

Laura, Jenn, and Courtney caught one of the coaches back to the flats, but I stayed on in Stratford, since I’d signed up to watch Shakespeare’s Richard III that evening. And so I walked the streets of town, between the ancient buildings with their narrow alleyways, and eventually caught up with some friends: Heather, Paloma, and Tamako, from one of my classes. We ended up eating dinner at the Garrick Inn, a half-timbered pub that’s been in existence since the 1400’s. Amazing! Had some excellent bangers and mash and another pint before we decided to spend the remaining hour before the show at the Duck/Swan pub (with yet another pint)…and then we were off to the theatre.

The theatre itself was set up so the stage was in the middle of the floor, surrounded by seats on three sides. I had a great seat, as I was in the first row of the balcony, and could see all of the action perfectly. It was an amazing play, done in a surprising contemporary style, with really great acting (I’d expect nothing less of the Royal Shakespeare Company!), and awesome use of props and costume. Never did I expect to see a Shakespearian play involve a digital camera, a swat-team-style entrance, or machine guns. Wow.

Also, it turns out that one of the gentlemen at the pub I’d gone to earlier in the day was an actor in the play…which was fun.

I didn’t get home last night until around 1:30 a.m., since the play ended so late (and we still had a 2 hour bus ride to boot), so I’m pretty sleepy today. I’m not sure exactly what the weekend will bring—I may be going out to Kent to have dinner with the Roberstons—so I’ll be sure to fill you all in on the goings-on here whenever I get a chance. In the meantime, take care! And cheers!

Chris

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Travel Location: Dubai,United-Arab-Emirates

Travel About: big-city,shopping,market

Well what do you do with a day off in a foreign city… That’s right EXPLORE! I headed to Bur Dubai, this is the old part of town, located on the “creek.” This is were the first build in Dubai was built, which is now the Museum. The cab took me right into the heart of the district. I had a shopping list of electronics that according to my lonely planet if it runs on electricity you can find it on Al Fahidi street. It was a crammed full of shops selling mostly Cell Phones, watches, and cameras. Bargaining is the norm and I am sure that I was exploited, but it was all part of the fun… right? I stumbled on Bur Dubai Souq (see attached), these are open are open air markets selling cloths, nick-nacks, food, etc. As was the street this market was very busy. But it is important to point out that it was Friday, which, for whatever reason is Dubai’s Saturday. And the only day that the workers get off. The Souq was adjacent to the creek where there was a water taxi service that ran up the creek and onto the other side of the creek. I spent some time watching the comings and goings of all the people and then after enjoying a refreshing class of freshly pressed OJ, I headed back to Al Fahidi to do some shopping. I had my Cell Phone unlocked (so I could use it locally), purchased an electric toothbrush (a luxury I am not willing to part with), an outlet adapter, some local fare (fresh veggie samosas for 1 dirham or about 30 cents!), shoe polish, and foot freshiner (required as Emirates stuff), to list a few. Then, while talking a break, I struck up a conversation with Reeaz, he and his friend (see attached photo), whose name eludes me are crystal cutters from India. Nice guys with VERY think accents. They have been hear for 10 years and make 5000 Dirham ($1600cdn) a month, which is really quite good, until you factor in that they work 66 hours a week. They say they are luck and happy, if not over worked. We talked about worker conditions here. There was a large fire yesterday in one of the monster buildings and the paper claims there were 2 deaths and 47 injures. Reeaz feels that that is most likely propaganda, it is his thought that the death toll was much higher. They were adamant about me taking there number in the hope that we could hang out again sometime. The invitation to come hang out in front of this store, their local haunt, any Friday was also extended. It was pushing 7 by this time and seeing that my body is convinced that 8pm is my bedtime I excused myself and headed up to the main thoroughfare to catch a cab back to “the other side of the tracks.”

Bargaining is the norm and I am sure that I was exploited, but it was all part of the fun… right?

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