Most people take pre-packaged beach vacations when going to Mexico. While I do not doubt the fun and care freeness that this involves, we prefer individually planned vacations. The latest took us to the area north of Mexico City.

After landing we boarded a bus to Queretaro, a provincial capital, 3 hrs away. While here in Canada riding a bus is definitely lowbrow, in Mexico there are different classes and the luxury class that tourists usually take are better than busses here. The inside looks like the business class of airplanes: a lot of legroom, some with personal TV, etc.  Food is given at boarding, big washroom is located at the back and the driver is isolated.
In Queretaro, from the bus station you can prepay a taxi to the hotel. The hotel we reserved was one of the best in town, located in the "Centro Historico" called Meson Santa Rosa ($160 US per night). It was already a hotel for travellers some 300 years ago; the basin where horses were led to drink has been converted into a fountain, with a swimming pool built next to it.
It was located next to the best plaza of the town. After arrival we came out, a Sunday night, the plaza was full of life, a mass of people, mariachi bands and indian vendors of dolls and ponchos...You sit down at an outdoor restaurant, order a margarita, and another one, and have the feeling that you have travelled far but it was worth it. We spent a day walking winding streets, visiting the local museum and enjoying the laid back lifestyle and the change from Canada’s winter.

Our next destination was a 30 min. taxi drive away, a town called Saint Miguel de Allende. This place is smaller, has about 80,000 population of which a high percentage are retired North Americans and artists. The area is a retirement destination for well off North Americans, the equivalent to what Provance or Tuscany is to the British...because of its year round superb climate and beauty. The weather is 25C during the day, 10 C during the night, dry, no heating or air-conditioning is needed anytime. You are at an elevation 2000m above sea level; the landscape is arid, hilly with cacti everywhere.
Our bed and breakfast (Casa del Cuesta, US$145/night) was on a hill, 15 minutes walk from the town's centre, where in the evening the mariachis gathered, and folks and kids were sitting, enjoying doing nothing or playing. Nobody seems to watch TV.
Our room had a veranda, a commanding view of the town below with all its
churches and plazas. The owners, a retired American couple from Maine, had 6 rooms for guests, full with Mexican art, verandas, courtyards and fountains. Breakfasts were Mexican affair, 4 local cooks/servers...could not eat until dinner so much was offered.
You could walk everywhere; the city is a jewel of the Mexican towns, cobblestones, fruit vendors, old churches, restaurants and art shops. People come here also to learn Spanish in the Allende Institute.
One day we hired an English speaking driver ($20/hr) to see the other surrounding towns: Guanajuato, is an old university and silver-mining town, where some roads like tunnels run under the city, converted from a combination of dried up old river and abandoned silver-mines. The university orchestra was rehearsing for the coming Saturday's concert in one of the main churches when we entered: a Mozart piano concerto. Sitting in the cool church listening to the sound of the grand piano and the full orchestra, all young people and their professor the conductor, I thought I might just as well stay here for a while. I could feel my brain cells regenerating. The other town we’ve visited on this trip was Dolores Hidalgo, the centre of the ceramics industry.

Our last stop was Mexico City; we left for it on the bus on a Saturday noon. Our reservation was in the Hotel Maria Christina, close to downtown in an agreeable location for only $ $71 a night with taxes (but no breakfast) included.
We enjoyed the city but I recommend it only to experienced travellers.
The first problem is how to get around. There is an extensive subway system,
but still a lot of walking is involved.
The bus system is a maze and no concise map is available. You are advised not to flag down taxis or to take one unless it is called via a telephone, easy for locals, impossible for most tourists, because Canadian cell phones normally do not work. Also most taxis have no meters, they suppose to charge by "zones crossed". You are supposed to agree on the price before the ride, kind of hard if you speak no Spanish, so you get overcharged.
The best is to hire a driver, ($13/hr Spanish speaking and $15-20 English)
in your hotel. This is what we did. We knew what we wanted to see so I just asked where to go, then when to meet until we walked around and this worked out fine.

We had him for two days of the three we stayed there. The first day was dedicated to discover the beautiful "suburbs": Coyacan (Frieda Khalo the famous Mexican painter grew up here), San Angel (Diego Rivera, Frieda's husband and another Mexican painter icon had his studio there),
Polanco (where the rich live), Condesa (bohemian equals to Soho). On the last day, he took us to see the Teotihuacan pyramids (a 45 km
distance) and finally back to the airport for departure.

The in-between day we spent exploring downtown on our own, using the subway and on foot. We started at the central market that has a subway stop. As soon as you step out the market swallows you, a maze of vendors selling clothing and running shoes. There seemed to be no end to it so I reached deep down to my high school Latin and the little Italian I picked up early in my life and asked somebody "frutta?" Direction was given and now we arrived to the fruit/greengrocer area. Mountains of garlic, chilli, herbs with vendors sitting in the middle high up on platforms.... a vast area of several city
blocks size. Again I asked "carne?" and we were given direction to the meat market. A vendor was making ground meat the way they did it 2000 years ago hitting a
huge chunk of meat, hatchets in both hands, on a vast butcher block, a
primal physical exercise that cried to be photographed...but with those
hatchets so close I decided not to.
By this time Maria had enough of the market but to find the subway again
seemed impossible. Finally a policeman gave us direction.
As you walk to your selected destination, the city scene can suddenly
change, say from something like downtown Toronto, to a 3rd world city scene,
where little hole in the wall vendors, that can not make more than $50 a
day, repair shoes, cook meals for sale and where you feel that you stick out. 
But the reward is that at the end you get to a unique destination, say a
square called Plaza de Santo Domingo, crowned by an old church and where
still today scribes sit outdoors by little tables with ancient typewriters. Folks
come if they have to write/compose a letter to some authority or friend.
Business is brisk. You feel back in times a 100 years ago, but this is now. By the way here there are no Starbuck Coffees, just little Mexican outlets with their pots of cooked beans and stews and tacos and burritos. To get back to civilization you must walk a mile along streets lined say with shops that sell only wedding accessories, then jewellery only... all to supply a city that has a population of 2/3 of Canada's.

My encounter would not be complete if I did not spend some time describing experiences with Mexican food, especially since the food topic is my favourite.
We ate at the some of best places in towns. Most ordinary Mexicans eat out,
in small hole in the wall cookouts and/or sidewalk stalls sitting by the
counter...but we did not go there....you need to speak Spanish. In those you probably pay next to nothing. Along your walks you can buy freshly cleaned tropical fruit cups from mobile vendors at $1.50 per large cup.
The cuisine is definitely spicy but not overly, and you better like beans
and corn flour based tortillas, but it goes way beyond that and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Figure about half the price that you would spend here in Canada in an
equivalent establishment. The time of meals is strange, but comes handy to
the tourist who likely had a hearty Mexican breakfast....that and another meal a day
will do. Most restaurants open at 1 pm, start to fill up by two...the lunch,
called here comida, is the main meal. It should last a few hours with
seamless transition to dinner, when those of just having had comidas leave
and those for dinner will be served. No strict rules like in France: "sorry
it is past two the chef has gone home the kitchen has closed"... and no
problem if you get hungry at 5 pm. No late dining like in Spain or Argentina
is necessary.
Many places have long traditions. For instance in Mexico City one place we went to 
was called La Nueva Opera Bar. It was there a 150 years ago during the
revolution. Same tables/chairs, when Pancho Villa rode in on a horse (yes
the front door is big enough) and fired his gun into the ceiling (still can
see it) to scare the elite. Waiters are in white, many speak English and there was English menu, as was in all restaurants we went to. At the Opera the menu changed little, you can still have bulls' testicles, grilled tripe, ants eggs (when in season) and fried crickets amongst the offerings. Now while few of us would go for these items, here are some I tried and recommend: Any meat dish with a "mole" sauce: a sauce made of dark bitter chocolate and hot chillies....or a stuffed green pepper dish called "chiles a nogada". The stuffing is ground meat mixed with crushed walnuts and ground dried fruits, overlaid
with a white walnut sauce, covered with red pieces of the pomegranate fruit, the colour of Mexican flag: red, white and green...exquisite. Many restaurants have their own mariachi bands, and even if they do not, many have outdoor terraces where you can sit with your margaritas and listen to those who entertain the folks on the plazas.

My story is over. I recommend exploring Mexico and not to just go and bask on its beaches. It has beautiful old historic towns, a strong unique culture, wonderful art, songs, music, with flavour and scenery to match.

SL       April 2006

1                    The first day:

It takes 8 hrs overnight from Toronto to land in Rome, one sleeps next to nothing.  We landed on Palm Sunday close to noon. After taking the dedicated train from the airport to the Termini railway station, we’ve bought a week-pass for the public transportation and took the #86 bus to our apartment.

We met the landlady who showed us what we needed to know, we paid, and then she was gone.

I rented a big apartment because our younger son Vincent and his wife Rory were to join us from London on Good Friday and stay with us until Easter Monday. It was located at 10 mins walk from the Borghese Park (the High Park of Rome) in a well off area called Parioli.

The Canadian Embassy was a 5 mins walk, a magnificent property…in my next life I want to be the ambassador…

It has been 39 years since we were last in Rome. In the spring Rome’s orange trees that line many streets bear their fruit, and it was eerie to see all those oranges hanging.

The temperature was spring-like 15C. In Canada many people would be in T-shirts celebrating the change from winter’s freezes, the Italians were by and large still wrapped in warm winter style clothing; this whether was still cold to them. After all at night it goes down to 6C!

2                    A walk in the neighbourhood of the apartment:

We usually walked around 6 pm before going out to eat and inevitably ended up sitting down somewhere by a sidewalk establishment having “due prosecci” (two glasses of Italian champagne). This is what many locals do at 6 when it is time to sit down with friends and talk and nimble on the nuts, chips and minipizzas, that comes with an order of drinks. As you walk you see many small shops. The food stores are all busy. In general folks seem to do their food-shopping close by in small quantities. A typical food store is no bigger than a 7-11 in Canada but that is where the similarities stop. As you enter on your left are the “vini”, prices start at 3.6 Euro for a litre and half. Underneath the wines are some beers, mineral water, maybe cola. Next to this still on the left are the fresh fruits and vegetables. None are flown in from faraway places; they offer what is grown locally or in green houses. It was the season of artichokes, asparagi, blood oranges and strawberries. Opposite the entrance were the cold cuts and meat/fish counter, the only place that was refrigerated. There is no freezer, no demand for frozen and prepared food. To the right are milk/butter and cheeses; breads concluding also on the right are the cleaners, soaps etc.

The small shop idea extends to fashion stores, furniture, etc. In all stores, at least in our neighbourhood, style rules. Clothing, furniture, lights/chandeliers, etc. are designed extremely attractively and individualistically compared to what is available in Canada, where these are provided almost exclusively by large chains such as IKEA, Gap, ... The infinite variety of good and classy design in Italy is intoxicating.

3                    The concert:

Rome’s new concert centre has at least 3 halls and is called the “Auditorium”. It has opened recently and was designed by Renzo Piano, Italy’s greatest living architect. On the outside it has a look of 3 gigantic flying saucers that have just landed, inside are reflecting pools, the halls are lined by wood and have excellent acoustics. We bought tickets to a concert where a Schumann and a Tchaikovsky symphony were presented by Rome’s Symphony Orchestra. There is of course a place there for folks to eat and have “prosecci” and to visit the centre’s excellent book and record store.

4                    The invasion of tourists:

My recollection is that there was ample room in Rome’s great museums 39 years ago.

The two “top tier” museums are the Villa Borghese and the Vatican Museum.

To the former advance reservation is compulsory now, to the latter it is advisable (we had it) unless you want to line up for 3-4 hrs before entering. Just to enter the St Peter Basilica there was a huge line, it took us 1 hour to get in.

In the Vatican Museum, possibly the world’s top museum, tourist groups connected via radio to their leaders pass you like horses on a racetrack. Gone are the days when you could “join” an English speaking group for a freebie, the leader does not shout anymore…just quietly speaks into a mike.

Single folks take the audio-guide; guys like me with a guidebook in their hand are really passé. It takes 2 hrs to go through the museum, its wonderful sculptings (Laocoon and sons are still struggling with the snake) and paintings (Rafael’s rooms) are there and you still get glimpses of the Vatican’s private gardens from the magnificently decorated halls and corridors. And just follow the arrows “to the Sistine Chapel” until you arrive there at the end. Through a small narrow door you enter, past a circle of guards who tell you: no photographing, no talking, no sitting down… and now in you step …and find yourself amidst some 2-3,000 people: a giant can of sardines. All are craning their necks up because high up above, in front and all around are Michelangelo’s frescos that are the top attraction of the museum.

For me all these people take away some of the pleasure, call me an elitist, and of course they take picture and talk and the guards are helpless.

The situation is much better in “second tier” sights such as Rome’s other churches, or all offerings of second tier cities such as Perugia, Bologna.

5                    The meeting with the pope:

You can attend the pope’s audience and get his blessing every Wednesday, if you get your ticket the day before in the little office at the right side of the main square (facing the Basilica).

Your audience will not be private (especially at Easter time). ¾ of the huge oval square in front of the Basilica is reserved for the pilgrims. We go through an airport type security check, thousands of seats are provided, and the crowd from all over the world is ready to welcome the pope. There is a soccer field like atmosphere, but no hooligans, and lots of warm up chants mainly from visiting student groups in different languages. The pope is to make appearance at 10:30, shortly before that the gates of the Basilica, some 3 floor high, open and the Swiss guard marches out, then on time the pope appears dressed in plain white on his electric cart and begins his “mingling” by driving on the many lanes that are left in midst of the crowd for this purpose. There is cheering, people stand on the seats, cameras high, and the pope is the star of the show and gets a huge welcome.

Then he drives up (on a ramp) over the many stairs to the front of the Basilica, the gospel of the day is read and he greets the groups using their own language… those who wrote to him that they would be there: this school from Australia, that from Germany, Brazil and so on. Every time a group is mentioned those present start to cheer at different parts of the square. It is an interesting and moving exercise lasting 20 minutes. At the end the pope blesses the crowd called Urbi et Orbi.

6                    Bologna:

We left Rome Easter Monday by train, went north and spent two nights in Perugia. We included a daytrip to nearby Assisi where St Francis found his order and built his famous Basilica.

After this we went further north through Florence for three nights to Bologna. Fourty years ago I spent an hour in transit here. It is a marvellous place, lots of young people since it has several major universities (one of the first universities of Europe was founded here about a 1000 years ago). With about 300,000 inhabitants, the city is prosperous, vibrant. Because it does not have a “knock-out museum or church” like Florence, Rome or Venice, it is not on the itinerary of the “big bus tours”…. but I tell you, as Michelin would put it: “it is worth a trip”.

The Italians gave Bologna the nickname of “la grassa” (the fat one) for its good food, and wealth. Just visit one of its many meat/delicatessen stores and you will get the idea. Unique to the city is its miles of covered arcades, and the red bricks that are used in the construction of many of its buildings.

Upon arrival to the hotel at 5 pm as per custom, I went down to fetch a bottle of wine to the enoteca (wine-store-bar) close by. An impressive establishment it was. At the front some 20 wines were open, sitting in a big basket or amongst ice, and for a small charge one could taste them. The wines were stored on the shelves by regions of Italy, a huge selection. Although there were some French wines at a far corner, absent were any other wines e.g. from Australia, US or Chile/Argentina.

I ended up buying a local (Emilia Romagna) red for 10 Euro, a cut above the average price, although they were selling Barolo also at 30 Euro, a good price for that.

Fortified by some wine we left the hotel and walked 15 mins to the main square, looking for a place to have our prosecci. The place we came to soon behind the main cathedral was the famed Zanarini, (on Piazza Galvini) where the best of the city converge at all times of the day even at the risk of having to double-park their Porsches. The place has a buzz about it. In the middle, strategically located like the guns of Navarone, is the fortress of huge shiny espresso machines with the many baristi in white jackets servicing them. Well-dressed couples were sipping prosecci or cocktails on the bar chairs surrounding this island and the windows. An elegant crowd occupied all the tables outside on the piazza. And the pastries and the goodies on display inside…oh my!!!….well the pastry chef must have a summa cum laude diploma in visual arts also. Incredible displays…the like never seen before.

7                    The restaurant:

It is fitting that I conclude the Italian impressions by describing one of our many eat-outs with one in Bologna. We ate out 3 times in Bologna, it is hard to choose which to tell, they were all 1^st class places. But the one, we went to lunch on Thursday called Diana, had probably the most character. Lunch in Italy does not start until after 1:00 (dinner after 8). Diana is an old fashioned Bologna establishment, you are greeted by the chief waiter. There are different ranks of waiters, from young apprentices to the ones with 40 yrs experience. They will not say ”hi I am Rico and I’ll be your waiter today”. No.

You get your seat, your bread tray, and you order the mineral water and the wine…I always ordered local wine. Many have English menu and many waiters speak some English. At the Diana the English menu only listed a 3^rd of the listing of the Italian,  (presumably only what they thought the English liked), so I asked him to translate the Italian offerings. This he did although at times he just said “a kind of chicken” (this could have been a pigeon). Also when I saw kidneys on the menu I asked how it was prepared? He just looked at me and said: “cooked”. Note that I ordered the kidneys and they were marvellous.

In Italy there are 4 courses to chose from: Antipasti, primi (pasta, risotto or soup), secondi (meat or fish usually with nothing you have to order controni: veggies or potato) and dolci. Listen to experienced couples like us: do not skip a course!

But because it is just too much food, order one antipasti, one primi and one dolci and split those, go for full orders of the secondis, secondi portions are usually reasonable unless…you order the speciality of Diana for secondi that was “bollito”. This is boiled and roasted meats. Upon an order of bollito a fat waiter appears with a trolley laden with hunks of impressive meats and would carve your portion as you point…a generous man. An elder Italian gentleman sitting next to us, finely dressed, ordered this, and was visibly struggling with his portion, but overcame the difficulties at the end. He ordered fresh wild strawberries as dolci with cream to ease the burden and some grappa to wash it down. Lunch or dinner is a min 2 hours affair, there are no “2 sittings” if you are a bit late and the place you have selected filled up, well tough luck.

8                    Going home:

Our last day in Bologna was to be spent on a day trip to Ravenna. It is a short train ride away. However at the station we were told that the local union was on strike and that the trains to Ravenna were not going. So we thought we would go with a bus and walked over to the bus terminal a 10 mins walk…but all the busses were gone by this time and the next one would have left at 13:00 hrs too late to make a meaningful trip.

We decided to go to Ferrara a 45 mins bus ride and took off. However as luck has it there was on that morning a major accident on the Venice Bologna auto-strada and all traffic was directed to secondary roads. Our bus took 3 hrs instead of 45 mins to reach its destination. This was not a good day.

By this time I started to worry how to get back to Bologna, because on the next morning we had to get the train back to Rome and fly out to Toronto.

We had lunch in Ferrara, (the bright spot on this bleak day), walked the sites and went to the railway station to buy tickets back to Bologna. The strike was to be over at 5pm.

One cashier was open, about 10 people ahead of us. Normally it would be 5 minutes to get to the wicket and buy the tickets, but because of the strike, many people had tickets that had to be rescheduled and it took 15 mins to handle them each.

The line moved ever so slow. They wouldn’t open another cashier, there were at least 8 closed, even though you could see many railway clerks idling around with nothing to do. Maria, the distinguished district manager of Talbots got very upset about this appalling customer service, and complained here and there bitterly but there was nothing to do…”can’t fight city hall”. All the Italians in the line took it sheepishly, as excitable as they can be at other times they were used to this bureaucratic abuse and knew it was pointless to fight it.

Early next morning in Bologna we had booking on the high-speed train (Euro Star class) at 6:30 am to take us to Rome. The train is impressive. I read the spec that was in the seat pocket: 8.8MW power, 300km/hr top speed. We have thoroughly enjoyed the trip. These trains form the backbone of the traffic in the main corridor of Torino, Milan, Bologna, Florence, Rome and Naples. These are the only stops. They leave every hour you must have seat reservation. The Italians call them the “pendolino” (the tilting ones) because these trains tilt (similarly to a motorcycle although you do not notice it) as they go into a turn, thereby the glass on the table will not get blown off in front of you, and you will not get squished against the wall as you walk. The portion between Bologna and Florence is very mountainous…the train is in and out of many tunnels a significant investment to construct…some tunnel is 15 mins long. There are no level crossings. As the train leaves Florence and gets to the flats it reaches its top speed, you wouldn’t know but for the few places where it parallels the auto-strada and cars there moving along seem to be at standstill.

We did arrive in Rome on time, did reach our plane, and the Italian railway system redeemed itself after the disastrous experience we had the day before in Ferrara.

SL

April 21, 2007

Egy arizonai utleiras angolul:

Spring is a good time to go; you leave Canada’s extended winter behind and arrive into a perfect summer.

On Good Friday our flight from Ottawa connected via Detroit, where a regular snowstorm was brewing, delaying our departure by 2 hours and undoubtedly making the search for Easter eggs difficult there on Sunday.

Arriving Friday evening at Phoenix involved picking up our rental car first at Avis. It turned out to be a Ford Mustang. This normally is a satisfactory vehicle, until I saw the many Solstices lined up (GM’s answer to Mazda Miata). A car with top down is the ideal car to drive out into the warm night, but of course people smarter than me reserved all these beforehand.

You get the feeling of free spirit soon. Next day, (Easter Saturday) on a rural road leading to Casa Grande (an old native building relic off the road to Tucson), I see in the rearview mirror a few Harleys, the hair of riders and passengers flowing in the warm air, no helmet law in this (and apparently 27 other) state.

We stayed at a resort (www.westwardlook.com) in Tucson for 3 nights. Since we do not golf, we made use of the pools, played tennis and went every day on long walks.

The scenery is beautiful with all the desert vegetation, cacti and other succulents abound. It is important to note that around Tucson (and Phoenix) there are mountains. The lower slopes (where there is never a danger of frost) are full with the saguaro cacti, often used as the symbol for Mexico (and Arizona). There are forests of these sprinkled with varieties of other cacti, some resembling unexploded bombs halfway in the ground, others in full bloom, all very happy about their whereabouts.

After Tucson we drove north, back to Phoenix for two nights. Most people from the US and Canada come to Phoenix to spend the winter here and play golf. The large number effluent retirees have given extra wealth that is evidenced by luxurious neighborhoods (like Paradise Valley and especially Scottsdale).

This is what is worthwhile to explore, the pueblo (Mexican, adobe) style architecture:

Low rise, red clay covered walls, flat roof in the midst of beautifully landscaped desert like gardens.

Another sight at the edge of the city is Taliesin West (www.franklloydwright.org); a Frank Lloyd Wright (most famous American architect) designed building. He came here in his old age to avoid the Chicago winters and founded this architectural colony/university.

Just like in Tucson there are mountains in Phoenix rising right in town. The Camelback and Piestewa are the best known. The latter we climbed, it is popular so you do this with hundreds of others, a 2.5-mile returns hike with a 300-meter elevation change for a wonderful view of Phoenix.

Downtown Phoenix itself is quite ho-hum, a few tall buildings, a big sports stadium with retractable roof and a public tramway being constructed and close to its completion, really there is not much to see. But go visit Scottsdale where the action is and see luxury shops of all kinds, visit restaurants and wine bars.

One night we had reservation to eat out in a restaurant operated by the Arizona Culinary Art Institute, where the future chefs are trained. Enthusiastic students supervised by their professors served an excellent five-course meal at probably half the price it would take elsewhere.

The other night we went to Kaz’s wine bar in Scottsdale www.kazbar.net, named after its owner, Kazimierz, a Polish émigré. It is tricky to find Kaz, no sign and the entrance is from the back alley, but once inside you realize how serious a wine sampling place it is.

The book listing wines is the biggest I’ve ever seen. There seems to be no particular order of listing them though…it is not by country nor variety or price. Talking price, some are well over $500 a bottle. Not only the wines but also food is also excellent, the Mediterranean salad/cold cut plate was as perfect as it might be in Greece/Italy.

I noticed that the young waitresses also sample the wines frequently, to make sure quality is not compromised I presume…or just as an occupational benefit.

After Phoenix we drove further North to Sedona for three days. Sedona is a scenic town closer to the Grand Canyon. The elevation is higher here thus nights are cooler but daytime temperatures are pleasant. The attraction is the many red colored sandstone mountains and canyons. It is a place where first artists started to settle down. By now it has grown into an effluent retirement town resulting sky-high real estate prices. Tourists are everywhere. Most of the tourists mill around the center to see the gift shops, or pack onto jeeps driven by guides and head out to see the red mountains. We however (and plenty of others) walked; there are a rich variety of trails for every age/skill group. Many others use mountain bikes or horses, another perfect way to see and get exercise. The marking of the trails could be clearer…it happened that I thought we were on one trail when in fact it was another. Alas this drew disproval of my traveling companion/wife Maria; “you should have looked better/asked earlier” she’d point out.

We stayed in the Briar Patch Inn, www.briarpatchinn.com in the Oak Creek Canyon. We had our own chalet with a fireplace and supply of wood every day for the morning fire. Breakfast was phenomenal; a walk simply had to follow it. For supper we barbecued steak and ate food bought in one of the delicatessens in town.

The highlight of our trip was the two days we spent at the Grand Canyon. The closest to us was the South Rim; the North side was closed for the winter it opens only in May.

Here the elevation is 2300m, you see spots of snow, and the top of the trails leading down to the canyon is covered with old ice (and mule shit).

The cool way to go down to the bottom is on hired mule caravans that have to be reserved well ahead. Maria has vetoed this as a dangerous exercise, but as soon as she saw the mules and the trail she has changed her mind, but it was too late by then. All the mules going to the bottom were booked and we had our two days paid in the fancy El Tovar hotel. So we trekked down one morning on the famed Bright Angel Trail to the mile and a half turnaround, an unforgettable track with an approx 300m drop. The total to the river is 10 miles, a 1,200m drop and a 4-hour trip, plus back another 8 hrs a major effort not recommended to be done in one day.

A sleepover at the bottom (Phantom Ranch refuge or at the nearby camping) is the best way to go all the way and back.

There are many other trails, easy but pretty ones along the rim or going down here and there, an ideal place for an inverse mountain hiking vacation, here you go first down then just remember you must come back up.

Following the canyon we drove northeast to Monument Valley. The place snagged its fame via the cowboy movies, the local trader Goulding convinced Hollywood director John Ford at the height of the recession to film his films here, and John Wayne became famous here riding his horses chasing Indians and bad guys.

The motel (http://www.gouldings.com) had free screening of his movies at 9pm, and windows of rooms looked out at the strange sandstone formations that dot this vast plateau. You have the feeling of being at the end of the world. We signed up for a full day of backcountry drive with a guide cw a barbecue lunch. A lot of the guests are from Europe or are lovers of horses; the sandy terrain is ideal to ride them. This area is in the midst of a huge Navajo Indian reservation, so buy your tequila beforehand, alcohol is not sold/served.

On the plus side it is a good place to buy Navajo carpets, jewels or woodcarvings, they make beautiful products.

The last leg of our Arizona journey was driving East to the Canyon de Chelly, a smaller but spectacular canyon on the border with New Mexico, then back west and spending two days in Winslow AZ. Winslow is a charming railway town with no more then 10 000 inhabitants. The famed Hwy 66 used to go through but the 1974 Eagles hit song: “Take It Easy” made it well known. The lyric goes:

Well, I'm a standin' on a corner in Winslow, Arizona,

and such a fine sight to see

It's a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed Ford,

slowin' down to take a look at me.

The corner is there.

We stayed in the renowned Posada Hotel http://www.laposada.org.

This hacienda style hotel is the other star attraction. It was designed by architect Mary Colter (she also designed the El Tovar at the Grand Canyon) in the early 1900s, for the railway and stands right by it. It is not expensive at all, has an excellent restaurant, is full of antics and art, has nice gardens and you can sit in the easy chair outside to see the trains go by, on the famous Santa Fe line. Trains come every 10 minutes or so. Each is pulled by four thundering diesel engines. They are at least a mile long; full of containers with inscriptions of Hyundai, China Link etc…you get the idea where trade is coming from. At night around 8 pm Amtrak’s South West Chief stops for two minutes, the famous Chicago-Los Angeles passenger train, bi-level silver cars, restaurant car, etc. very romantic. It will arrive the following morning in LA; the total uninterrupted trip is 43 hrs.

From here we made a day tour to visit the Hopi Indian mesas, a 100k drive north.

The Hopi are the oldest remaining Indian tribe. The people are small, like to live on the top of mesas (flat topped sandstone mountains that is found in the area). Their villages high up resemble Tibetan settlements, complete with stray but friendly dogs. You can’t just go in, have to pay a guide, cannot make photographs and it is customary to buy one of their arts: the Kachina dolls, woodcarvings that are sold everywhere on village corners. Their living conditions resemble the third world.

The last two days (Saturday and Sunday) we spent in Phoenix in the Hermosa Inn (www.hermosainn.com) located in the midst of the rich residential suburb of Paradise Valley. It is a historic place, now converted into a boutique Hotel. It has beautiful desert landscaped grounds, a pool and only 34 units each with its own gas fired fireplace and patio.

Its restaurant, called the LON is famed and big. Saturday evening we ate there, as guests we got in without reservation. There are hundreds of tables inside and in a huge garden where a pit fire burns and you dine under the stars looking over the moonlit Camelback Mountain. The temperature is just perfect no humidity or bugs.

Clients are the many prosperous locals, a valet grabs their cars, Porsches are parked closer by, and let’s just say that you do not see evidence of any negative impact caused by higher world food prices.

SL

April 16, 2008

Tango and Bossa Nova…a brief trip to South America

It takes slightly less that 11 hrs of non-stop overnight flying to get from Toronto to Buenos Aires, but there is only one-hour time difference, they are on Halifax time.

Sometime in the morning the plane flies over the equator and the Amazonas…time to forget the winter, we are about to land in Buenos Aires and it is summer.

Buenos Aires reminds one a bit of Paris...big avenues...apartment buildings...lot of trees alongside. We had a transfer car arranged and went first to a close-by summerplace called Tigre, to spend two nights in a B & B.

On summer weekends Tigre becomes alive, lots of people come up from Buenos Aires.

There are many boat-clubs and rowers fill the numerous rivers and channels that this area is famous for, navigating between the bus-boats and tour ships. We took a bus-boat to a nearby place. Upon disembarking we just walked under the weeping willows soaking up the heat, along the canals, passing by cottages and were greeted by their friendly dogs. Soon we came upon an open air restaurant already busy barbecuing large quantities of beef and sausage and full with day trippers like us ...you drink and eat and pay only $20 for two.

Argentina is supplying some of the best beef in the world and you will find no shortage of it in the restaurants and grill-houses. Argentinean wine is superb...not expensive... yet you can hardly find them outside Argentina.

Other than beef and wine Argentinean leather products are excellent. Both Maria and I bought leather jackets in Buenos Aires...it would cost well over a $1000 in North America, here a mere $300 and you in addition you will also get a tax rebate at departure.

After Tigre, we went back to Buenos Aires and stayed five nights in a hotel in Recoleta, a good neighborhood, for $100 (US) a night (taxes and breakfast included).

Because of the devaluation of the Argentinean peso expect to pay less than half of what is normal in Canada.

Although we stayed in a prosperous neighborhood, like in many cities you will see signs of poverty. Let me give you a feel of it.  Around 10 pm we leave the hotel to the selected restaurant. Never earlier unless you like eating by yourself. Because I refuse to take a cab (even though it is cheap) if the place is within say 15 minutes walk, we step out onto the bright boulevard. Little kids may approach wanting to shine the shoes...they want dollars...I say no. After awhile we notice that along the sidewalks there are people, entire families, picking the garbage. We realize soon that what they are doing is recycling paper, glass and metals, (no blue box program in BA...no need). All of these are separated, neatly piled and carted away, the leftover is left tidy.

The restaurant selected is in a side street, a couple of blocks away. Side streets are darker but this is a good neighborhood...the doormen are sitting on stools outside the apartments. Having polished during the day the brass on doors...now they chitchat across the street. Soon we arrive and enter the restaurant and a different world. Chandeliers, wine waiter, the place is full of diners, some with their kids. Waiters are in crispy clean linen aprons and white shirts. Going back we order a taxi. The driver speaks a little English, he is a retired teacher who does extra work to contribute to his pension. It is now midnight and on his radio a beautiful upbeat music starts… a march…. maybe by Verdi? It sounds familiar...I ask...it is the Argentinean national anthem. The fare is $3 the tip is a peso, about 30 cents. At midnight the hotel's doorman is no longer on duty. A little 6-year-old streetboy is staying vigil; opening the doors of the taxis...you give another peso...

So there...and yes there is tango entertainers dance it everywhere...on street corners and in nightclubs…beautiful couples, fully dressed but it is the sexiest dance there is, revealing her legs as she moves...the man in control...woman in submission.

There are gorgeous antique stores and romantic dance clubs in the St Thelmo district, art nouveau fashion and food in Palermo Nuevo (an upcoming barrio) and professional dog-walkers in the parks of Retiro. The city is big and has many faces.

There are many venerable café houses: Cafe Tortoni, Cafe Biele to name just a few. The latter was close to us. Sitting there before dinner by a drink, outdoors under the 100 year old massive rubber tree, watching the waiters greeting the regulars with deep respect...had the old world charm of my father's world, who grew up in Europe.

Rio de Janeiro is a 2 hr 30 min flight away. It is somewhat more expensive here.

The Romans had a saying loosely translated...do not die before you see Naples...but of course Rio was not discovered yet.

Our hotel was in Ipanema, ($200 a night) room on the 12th floor of a 16-story hotel, on the beach, pool on the penthouse. Looking right from our balcony we saw the vast beach, looking left, high up there was Christ the Redeemer, the landmark of Rio de Janeiro. A famous café/restaurant was a 15 minutes walk, called Garota de Ipanema, where the song Ipanema Girl was composed. Sitting there on the terrace in the early evening, sipping a few potent caipirinhas, (crushed lemon, crushed ice, sugar and liquor made of sugarcane with high alcohol content...sip it via a straw) looking at the street scene where entertainers were showing off their stuff (e.g. olympic style gymnastic floor exercises performed during the brief pause of the red light), the idea why to go back home into the winter did emerge. At 10 pm one would go across the street to Vinicius Piano Bar where the best of the city's bossa nova singers were holding court.

Because of the safety concerns, we did take tours instead of exploring the city on our own: the first day a bus tour to the Maracana Soccer Stadium, then to the place where the Carnival procession was held and finally up to 910m to see Christ the Redeemer...that was in fog, came out for a photo opportunity only...forget the view of the city, nothing going.

The next day I had prearranged a private guide via the Internet, $90, but it was worth it. He with his car took us to the old city downtown, to see medieval churches, the Confeitaria (Café) Colombo and the Santa Therese district where the artists live.  We traveled on the famous rickety streetcar and had a wonderful lunch.

To conclude we went up with the cable car to the Sugarloaf. Our guide was well informed and a pleasure to be with.

The next day we took a small tour of one of the many the Favelas (i.e. the shantytowns) with several Scandinavian and German tourists in a small van.

These are jammed against the mountains right in downtown Rio. It was an eye opener…who would have thought that it was safer there than along the beaches. This is because the gangs who control it do not tolerate crime against tourists, they do not want police to come in and investigate...and spoil they drug dealings.

I still would not want to go there on my own...it is easy to get lost, and little kids follow you asking for money and chanting gringo.

This tour ended at the beach in Sao Conrado. This is the coolest place I have ever visited, straight out of a James Bond film. It is where the handgliders hang out...and where you can negotiate for a ride, $100. The gliders with their clients are landing constantly; the traffic is akin to Chicago's O'Hare. You look up and the sky is full of them swirling along the high cliffs...I'll not forgive myself that I did not go for a ride...it must be a lifetime experience.

The last two nights we spent in Paraty a 4 hrs drive and a world heritage site: an authentic 200 years old Brazilian town full of renovated pousadas, (inns). Paraty became famous because several films were shot there, one of Marcello Mastroanni's last film (Gabriella) from a novel of Jorge Amado, a Brazilian writer. No concern for safety in Paraty and it is a jewel of a town. Traffic is kept outside of the historic center. The thing to do during the day is to go out on a boat to visit secluded beaches and eat lunch in tiny restaurants on scattered islands to which you can only go by boats. Paradise cannot be much different...and on the boat and at night one is drinking caipirinhas...I think I mentioned that this has relaxing effect.

B & B in Tigre: Cason la Ruchi, www.casonalaruchi.com.ar, you share bathrooms, but it is a beautiful old mansion with a pool.
Where to eat in BA: Oviedo, Rua Beruti 2602, tel. 4822 5415

To see tango go to Bar Sur in the St Thelmo area

To reserve hotel, transportation: allojargentina

Hotel in Rio: Praia Ipanema, www.praiaipanema.com

Where to eat in Rio: Garota Ipanema

To reserve hotel, transportation to Paraty: paraty tours

SL

Blogjaim angolul vannak irva, mert kanadai baratoknak irtam oket. Ezert elsosorban bocsanat.

Hungarian Restaurants

We ate out almost every day, many times with friends at places recommended by them and occasionally in establishments that I researched on blogs and in guide books.

One has to be careful, having lived in Canada for long we no longer have much tolerance for the richness of most food served. Also portions tend to be large so avoiding overeating can be difficult.

The restaurants that I blogged tended to be better. I selected some of the top ranked Hungarian restaurants. To most of the locals these tend to be expensive and ‘portions are small’. This class of restaurants usually serve that I will call the “Nuevo Hungarian cuisine”. A transformation of national cuisine goes on similar to what has happened in France some 20 tears ago. The chefs working in these restaurants all have international experience; emphasis is on seasons, on superior local ingredients and presentation. You have to eat 2-3 courses because portions are smaller.

The Csalogany 26 in Buda and the Enoteca Corso at the southern city of Pecs fall into this category, and we loved the food that they served.

Trip to Pecs, South Hungary

We went with the train from Budapest for one full day. I reserved room (for a Saturday night) in the Hotel Palatinus. The train is slow, takes 21/2 hours; the distance is some 200km. We traveled 1^st class; the return ticket cost was $ 50 for two.

Funny things can happen Saturday morning on the train. A few people had to be moved out, these did not have 1^st class ticket and pretended not to know. A mild but drunk man boarded somewhere at 10 am, he did not even know which direction the train was going, evidently he wanted to go direction Budapest that was in the opposite way.

We got into the only taxi cab available upon arrival, an old Mercedes with a mafioso looking driver. We agreed the fare will be 1000Ft ($5). It was a less than 5 min drive to the hotel and no problems with the fare stated. He filled in the time with acid tales of local politics…more on cab drivers later.

Pecs is a pleasurable side trip from Budapest. Its small town atmosphere, the possibility to walk to almost every sight, lower prices for hotels and restaurants make it worth. The sights are the old city itself, the Cathedral, the museum of the Zsolnay ceramics/porcelain factory and the museum dedicated to the painter Csontvary. The city is surrounded by hills covered by some of the best vineyards of the country thus opportunities for wine tasting visits are abound.

In addition to above for me the special significance is that my family originates from Pecs. The first Littke founded a champagne factory in the 1850s, thus qualifying to rank the family into the 5 or so prominent families of the town (others are owners of porcelain factory, glove manufacturing and such).

There are no longer any Littkes in the city; a restaurant is located in the factory where champagne tasting is offered. The family residence close to the factory is now a kindergarten. There is also a street named Littke.

The champagne factory is now run by a Swedish Hungarian and the Littke name is no longer used.  As a result people’s common reaction upon hearing that I am a Littke is disappearing. In my adolescence most adults hearing my last name inevitably the asked back: the champagne Littke?      

For the first time I visited the city cemetery where graves of the prominent families are located in one row at the entrance, Littke’s included, and are wonderfully maintained by the authorities.

Revisit of the area where we (40 years ago) illegally hiked across the Iron Curtain, into Northeast Italy from Yugoslavia

We took a night train from Budapest to Venice. From the station we walked to pick up our small rented Fiat Punto and drove North East towards Udine and Cividale the border region.

This region of Italy is called Friuli, an excellent wine growing area. The locals (and their cuisine) and the architecture have many influences from Slovenia and importantly from the Astro Hungarian Empire. It is also thankfully free of hordes of tourist.

The countryside is hilly, green with forests and vineyards, the white snowy peaks of the Julian Alps are clearly visible. Discovering old towns, hiking, bicycling is what the few smart visitors do.

There were many big and bitter battles between armies of Italy and the Astro Hungarians in the 1^st World War in the mountains, and hundreds of thousand of lives were lost on both sides. One can revisit the battlegrounds; many are in eerily beautiful settings on top of green but barren mountains.

I booked a room in (a mountain top) 14^th century monastery called Castelmonte, close to the border crossing site that we were to revisit. In the evening when the day visitors were gone one could hear the chant of the Trappist monks through the open windows.

You can reserve rooms in many church establishments in Italy via monesterystays.com. The Catholic Church owns much prime real estate and nowadays monasteries and convents are not filled with priest and nuns, so they converted some to accommodate tourists.

The cost is less than it would be at comparable commercial establishments and the only drawback may be the curfew at 11 that apply at some locations. I note that we have stayed later in Venice at one of these also. Both stays were very satisfying, clean rooms with bathrooms in historic buildings at prime locations.

Fourty years ago Slovenia was a province of Yugoslavia. Slovenia is now an independent country, part of the EU and the currency is euro. The border crossings are left abandoned no longer in operation.

With our Fiat Punto going up and down (on roads not shown but on the most detailed maps) it did not take long to find the field where we stepped on free land on 8:20 pm May 30 in 1969.

The border here is a creek called Judrio in one of the many valleys called Natissone. The steep side on the east is Slovenia and we walked down from the top across fields, forest and bushes as the bird flies 40 years ago to reach this point. It looked now a bit menacing and treacherous, and that it ought to have been quite an effort what we did at the time. In fact Maria blamed me as being reckless and taking high risk 40 years ago….as though she wasn’t full and equal participant in those events!

After finding this spot and walking around the few farm houses that at the time took us in for the night (there was nobody around at this time) we drove into Slovenia and up to the top to find where we started our hike down. This was more difficult to pinpoint, I imagine the road running along the crest might have changed since. Then we drove down to on the Slovenian side to the staring point of our escape, into the small town of Kanal, located alongside the Isonzo River. Not much seemed to have changed here. We had dinner at the very same restaurant that we ate 40 years ago prior we decided to walk to the top and wade down to cross into Italy. It seemed like a very substantial effort after dinner even for persons who were 40 years younger.

More on restaurants 

I usually do a thorough search of potential places to eat out on the internet, partly on rating websites such as Michelin or Zagat, partly on travel websites of newspapers and on “foodie” sites such as chow.com etc. so I’ll be well prepared in places we stay.

When traveling though inevitably we will end up at “unlisted” places…where there is no prior information with me. I want to describe how we dealt with one situation in Cividale Italy, where we became very hungry at lunchtime.

We parked the car in the centre of this small town and I decided to ask somebody.

There was a small bakery close by, people lining up for fresh pastries and buns. I decided to go in and in my broken Italian and mostly in English I asked where a good restaurant close by may be. Well this did cause quite a discussion…opinions differed…I was hoping that no fist fight would ensue. Finally a strong willed matron took leadership and recommended one. I asked her to write it down cw the address on a piece of paper I had for this purpose.

Armed with the address we tried to drive to it…got lost would have been better to walk. With the paper I asked a gentlemen pointing at the paper. He said no it was Tuesday and that place was closed. I asked what restaurant then would he recommend, he named it and we had him write it down.

So now we are going to this one, walking this time…but lo behold we meet the women who recommended the first one. She looks at us we say apologetically that the one she suggested was closed. Oh yes she yells but looks at the recommendation we’ve since received and strongly disproves. She recommends another one, yet again changes in direction until finally we do arrive, have our meal, and indeed it was a very pleasant place.

The final taxi ride to the Budapest Airport

We ordered the cab the day before for a very early time, 4:30 am Sunday morning. The final two days we stayed at a friend of mine. They live up on the hills of Buda, the most prosperous part of the city and on diametrically opposite furthermost side from the airport. Or plane was leaving a 7:00 am.

The taxi was there on time in fact waiting, the driver sleeping in his cab. We woke him up. With the sun rising we began by descending empty streets through the sleeping hauntingly beautiful city, and then crossed the Danube River. As always a conversation with the driver started. He had lots to say. His bitter responses can serve as a gage of the mood how the population feels nowadays; not good…it was saturated with strong criticism of the politicians and the rich.

Nothing is good: the new subway line should not be built the way it is, traffic should be kept out of the city, that building should not have been demolished but converted to house the poor… and so on… an endless stream of negatives.

I add that during this entire tirade he was often driving at twice the speed limit, the limit being displayed on his GPS was visible to us. He raced over empty streets, passing the few vehicles even where passing was not allowed and following others inches from behind if passing was not possible. An unforgettable experience it was.

Ottawa, 05-July-18

Before I start let me say that the week we have spent in Thailand does not do justice to what this country offers. We did not visit the beaches of the South and there are lots more to see. Thailand is one of the more prosperous countries in the Far East; it is safe to travel here. During winter there are no rains and the humidity is low, although Bangkok is quite smoggy.

Bangkok

You’ll likely arrive at the new Suvarnabhumi airport (that experienced a multiply of early problems after it opened in 2006). It was designed by German/American architect Helmuth Jahn. You will only discover its beauty upon departure, when one normally has more time to linger.

Our first destination was the main railway station where I had to buy train tickets to go to Chiang Mai in three days time. The bus from the airport first goes on a motorway, but then gets into downtown and bogs down into the eternal traffic jams of Bangkok.

Having secured the tickets we got a taxi and gave him the hotel’s address on a piece of paper. I almost immediately noticed that he did not start the meter so I told him to do that. He just muttered that there was too much traffic and “waiting” and said the ride was “200 baht”. I commended him to stop. He did not. I pretended to write his name and number down (it was hanging there facing us) so he grudgingly started the meter. We ended up paying 120 bahts, (four dollars), and departed at the end in good spirits.

We reserved in a small hotel called Arun Residence, (www.arunresidence.com), a historic Sino Portuguese river house along the Chaophraya River. It is in the midst of a Thai neighbourhood in a side street, not the easiest to find, but close to many major sights. The hotel has only 5 rooms and a well known restaurant with decks overlooking the river. The view is unforgettable, especially at night when the Arun Wat temple on the opposite side gets lit up and traffic on the river shifts into the many illuminated river cruise/dinner boats that steam up and down. As hotel guests we had no problem getting a table, but otherwise you better had booking. The place filled up every evening with better off Thais wanting to impress their girlfriends or clients and with European tourists of the “in the know” types.

To avoid traffic jams travel to places where you can go via the river vaporettos or with the BTS Skytrain.

I mentioned vaporettoes, the city indeed does remind a bit of Venice, let’s just say the river is the Grand Canal and there are many side canals. A number of the historic sites are along the river….but this is a city of 10 million inhabitants.

We enjoyed the Venice like commuting (at fraction of the cost of a ticket that is charged in Venice I dare say). The landing is always preceded by the anchormen feverish whistle signals, when on board the conductor girl will come shaking a tin box full of change to remind you to buy your ticket. Tickets are dirt cheap at some 50 cents a ride. The best Bangkok experience involves just sitting there enjoying the sites and the river traffic.

The city has many temples called Wats, with plenty of Buddhas in them: a reclining Buddha here, an Emerald Buddha there. We have gotten a bit “out-Buddhad”… sacrilegious as it sounds I afraid.

We also visited the famous weekend market. We took the Sky train to get there. The Sky train is clean, air conditioned and goes about 4 floors high. The market is humongous, you are given a map. There is everything there for sale, from pet squirrels to antique, from designs of upcoming Thai fashion artists to silk, etc. We were both very impressed. Maria quickly purchased some silk cushion and bed covers that we evidently desperately needed. Prices are low and you gotta bargain, start at half the price what they ask (that I think is the real price anyways) and then inch upward so that they still get their extra “tourist profit”.

Thai food

We love to eat and to cook. Even the hotel where we stayed in Bangkok was selected after reading an article in the New York Times that fleetingly mentioned that it was a hotel also. Thai food is phenomenal. There is an explosion of flavours in your mouth when you taste it, the myriad of herbs, coriander, coconut milk, lemongrass, the abundance of fresh seafood and spices… it is impossible to recreate this in your own kitchen you must go there to experience it. Thai people love to eat. Cooking starts in earnest in the morning. The crowded living conditions and the heat means that they prefer to cook out in the open. In cities this means on the sidewalk in front of their living space. As you walk by you can see what’s for lunch/dinner. In addition you can see into the room where they all live and sleep. Many keep a few chickens and a rooster. These are kept under bottomless bamboo cages, so they can pick seeds and are moved along during the day. No need to buy eggs or for alarm clock either, the rooster does it! Since they cook on the sidewalk many have impromptu stalls to sell some, the name of “street food” takes a different meaning here.

One night we went to Chinatown to eat. It is well known for its hustle/bustle and street-food. We negotiated a tuk-tuk (motorcycle cab); it was a 20 minute ride. You hang on to your dear life, the drivers go at neck braking speed weaving in and out of traffic.

Here restaurants on the sidewalk compete with each other, filled with locals and tourists sitting along long tables side by side. All are drinking good Thai beer and eating inexpensive excellent food selected from well worn menus equipped with pictures for the sake of tourists. An unforgettable dinner here with beer for two may cost $20 for two. At our hotel with its view, tablecloth, fancy cutlery, etc. $100, but even this is a bargain, given the high standard of the food.

The food that is spicy is marked on most menus. I thought I was resistant to spicy food until I consumed a North Thai pork sausage dish in Chiang Mai. A delicious meal it was but at that night I suffered dearly. On top I had to listen to Maria’s remarks such as “you should have known better…”

Slow train to Chiang Mai

Chiang Mai is some 800 km North of Bangkok. There are many planes but taking the night (sleeper) train is recommended for enjoying a truly Thai experience. You can reserve 2^nd class sleeper tickets on the internet, but advance 1^st class for some reason can only bought in person at the station (or via agencies that truly overcharge).

So as I mentioned the first day we bought our tickets, going there only second class was left, coming back 1^st class. The difference is that in 1^st class you are in a private compartment, but second class is quite acceptable. The sleepers are air-conditioned and full of first world tourists. Our neighbours were two young German ladies who just completed a tour of Indonesia, one was writing a diary, a French couple, an American girl with a huge bag together with Indian looking young man who ought to have been born and bought up in Germany, spoke fluent German (and English)…but way too much, I daresay….

The train pulls out of Bangkok around 7 pm. We boarded early, this gives you the opportunity to see the night conductor getting himself ready, complete with him being half naked and washing himself at the sink in front of the passengers. The train has 3 times as many officials as in Europe or in America, there are the ticket controllers and assistants, the conductor who makes the beds, cleaning and security staff. It also goes 3 times as slow as trains I am used to; max speed seldom exceeds 60 km/hr. To reach Chiang Mai takes officially 14 hrs but hey it took 16! 1 and 1/2 hours is just to leave Bangkok; there is no right of way, the train leaving the station crosses many streets like a streetcar and as I mentioned there are traffic jams.

From your window you can see life along the tracks, many people live here in ram shack houses, walk across the tracks to borrow salt I guess. On the train you can order food and drinks that they bring to you from the dining car, but it is worthwhile to go there. A scene might just as well come from a Somerset Maugham novel: the night train chugging in the Asian night. The dining car has no AC; all windows are fully open creating a pleasant breeze. Order a Thai beer or maybe a gin and tonic. Nothing is expensive. Repeat it, you only live once! Look outside passing by land and strange stations with funny Thai writing; see Buddhist monks sleeping on benches in the middle of the night. You can not help to feel that you are on an adventure.

Before arriving into Chiang Mai in the morning the train crosses a tropical mountain forest, it is bright now, the single track is dangerously exposed on one side of the mountain, feels like going on a bridge. The speed at these exposed sections is no more than 15 km/hr. I would not like to do this in the rainy season!

Chiang Mai

Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand, but with only 200,000 inhabitants it is much smaller than Bangkok. It is “the Vancouver of Thailand” I was told. A desirable place to live, better air, close to mountains, artists, universities. Our boutique hotel called the Rachamankha (www.rachamankha.com) was inside the walled city like an oasis, with a gorgeous pool. It belongs to the prestigious Relais Chateaux list of hotels. Opposite the pool was a two story building open on all sides called the Spa, where we had a Thai massage. Its starts with washing and massaging your feet. For the body no lubricants are used. Each of your muscles is expertly worked over by the strong masseuse, sometimes using her elbows and knees…she goes to the threshold of pain but never crosses it. Lying there look up study the ceiling fans or sideways view the coconut palm trees and listen to songs of tropical birds.

In the city just walk around. Surprises are abound. When a restaurant was full one night we left our name and said we would come back in half an hour. As we walked we saw light nearby. Taking the side street to get there we arrived at a square where an ancient temple was located, illuminated, complete with a Buddha statue at the top and monks wrapped in orange robes meandering here and there c/w stray dogs in the quiet of the night. The temple was Wat Chedi Luang built in the 14^th century.

Chang Mai has many top of the class art and home decorating shops; also folk art is sold from all regions. The choice in silk and carvings is mind bogging. On the last day we got to know a tuk-tuk driver who led us to many art shops that we would never able to locate on our own.

There are cooking classes, hiking trips and river rafting available. Three days that we spent there are not enough. There are many inexpensive guest houses and strangely sometimes I felt like being somewhere in Austria, a lot of wood is used in the construction of buildings and the mountains are close.

One day we visited an elephant farm and a village of the long neck tribes (who live in these mountains). For this we hired through the hotel a driver. It is a day long affair and concludes with the visit to the Buddha shrine on top of the mountain outside the city. By this time I ran low on cash (buying tickets here and there, tipping elephant handlers and oxen cart drivers exhausted my cash reserve) so at the bottom of the Buddha shrine I went to the ATM machine wanting to get out 5000 bahts. This choice was not available so I accidentally pushed the 20,000 button and the machine happily started to burr counting down 20 1000 bills, a value of over 600 dollars! This on the second last day in Thailand, with our hotel already paid via the Internet. I got reprimanded by Maria. Anyways on the top of the mountain with cash in my pocket I paid for the espresso (60 bahts) with a 1000 bill. The young Thais at the cashier seldom saw this big bill, but to their credit dutifully accepted it and in their confusion they gave me back 100 bahts more money than I was owed! We had our coffee then I went back and explained their mistake and gave the extra money back. They said Buddha’s blessing will follow me in my journeys.

Our driver waited at the bottom of the temple stairs and on the way of returning to the hotel offered to drive through the University campus. Much like here, full of students coming out of the afternoons’ classes milling/horsing around socialising. I think there is a bright future in front of them; Thailand is a rapidly developing country.

Jim Thompson

On our last day, arriving from Chiang Mai and having eight hours to spend in Bangkok we went to see the Jim Thompson House (http://www.jimthompsonhouse.com/). Now I am sure that you have never heard of him but he was a well known US expatriate, to whom Thailand has a lot to thank. Coming from a prosperous Delaware family he had a large role to bring Thailand’s treasures to the attention of the world.

He was a mysterious character largely due to his sudden disappearance without trace in 1967 while on a walk on Eastern Sunday in the highlands of neighbouring Malaysia. I recommend that you Google it.

Briefly, he was a Princeton architectural graduate who served in the 2^nd World war and was posted into Bangkok by the CIA at the end of the war. He fell in love with Thailand and decided to settle here. His wife did not follow him. An avid art collector he discovered native skills and through his connections in New York found markets for Thai silk and other products. He essentially revived these skills that were on the way of dying out. He did not introduce mass manufacturing methods but encouraged home based production allowing the mainly illiterate women suppliers to continue to look after their family while making the fine clothes, resulting betterment in their families standard of living. His house, located downtown but in a quiet upscale street beside a little canal is now a museum and a fine example of Thai teak (wooden) architecture. His collection is on display and his silk venture is a thriving business with upscale shops at the museum, at the airport and in many big cities all over the world.

Ottawa, 8, February, 2010

A téma számtalanszor előfordul saját posztjaim hozzászólásainál és máshol is. Megfogadtam hogy össze fogom foglalni az erre vonatkozó gondolataimat. Elöljáróban kijelentem hogy írásom nem tárgyalja hogy miért is alacsonyabb a munkabér Magyarországon mint pl. a szomszédos Ausztriában? És miért magasabb mint például Bangladesben? Egy ország gazdasági múltja, az ipar fejlettsége, az iskolázottság általános színvonala, az ország kormányzása mind tényezők a piac szabta bérek kialakulásában. Szerintem nem sziniszter világfokú « gyarmatosítók » összeesküvésének eredménye.

A multik aránylag új világjelenség. Hatásuk minden országban érezhető. A fejlett világban az ipar egyes ágainak (főleg a nagy tömegű gyártásnak) drasztikus csökkenését, sok esetben annak a végét jelentették. A fejlődő országokban új, addig nem létező munka alkalom nyílt, és egy lényeges kulturális változás indult el. Hogyan értékeljük ezt a folyamatot? Szerintem az eredmény az egész világ szempontjából pozitív, azaz én a « jók » táborába tartozom. Bőven akadnak, és nemcsak ezen a bloggon, akik ezt vitatják és a « rosszakhoz » csatlakoznak.  

Nem vitás hogy nem kell messzire menni hogy a "rosszra" példákat tudjunk felhozni. Nemrégiben a ruhagyár összeomlása Bangladesben, az itt-ott még mindig felbukkanó gyerekmunka, a környezetvédelem gyakori semmibe vétele, és sorolhatnám, mind intő példa arra hogy a külföldön gyártás kötelezettséggel jár, és hogy végül is mindenütt a multi felelős, ha máshol nem a közvéleményben.  

Másrészről meg emlékszem amikor a Közgáz 101 tárgyban (Torontóban) tanultuk hogyan gazdagítja a kereskedelem az abban résztvevőket. Azt hiszem nem nehéz megérteni hogy az eredeti önellátó társadalmakban a kereskedés kezdete egy, az emberiség javára váló folyamatot indított el.  Lehet hogy a globalizmussal is így van…

A multik a munkaigényes gyártást olyan országokba igyekszenek áttelepíteni ahol a munkabér alacsonyabb, de mégis hasonló minőségű produktumot lesznek képesek ott előállítani. Mivel az így gyártott áruk, mondjuk egy autó, kevesebbe kerül, alacsonyabb áron mehet a piacra, így többen tudják megvenni. A vevőknek marad pénz mást is venni. És persze a multi (egy bizonyos számon felül) minden eladott terméken profitál, így ez nekik is jó. Itt van a hajtó erő.  

Az elhatározás hogy a gyárat hova telepítsék egy analízis eredménye. Minél messzebb annál drágább lehet a szállítás, nehezebb az igazgatás és ellenőrzés de esetleg annál olcsóbb a munkabér. A távoli ország munkaerejének iskolázottsága is számításba jön. Egyes termék gyártásához magasabb képzettség kell, máshoz kevesebb. A távoli országokban létező adók, politikai stabilitás, stb. szinten mind tényezők.    
Szóval eldöntetik hogy Hugó Boss ruhatermékéit többek között Romániában és Indonéziában, Mercedes egyes típusát Magyarországon és Brazíliában (is), Toyota autókat az USA-ban és Kanadában (is) gyártanak mert az így a legkedvezőbb az anyavállalat számításai szerint.    

A fejlett világban az állam próbálja ezt a folyamatot lassítani, elkerülni a munkanélküliség növekedését. Ez nem könnyű feladat. Marad az hogy előre látván a tendenciát a munkaerőt átképzi, és ha kell  a csapást minimalizálja segéllyel. Azt az ipart igyekszik meghonosítani, ami magasabb iskolázottságot igényel, pl. gyógyszerkutatás, vagy komputer programozás. Ezeket az iparagákat érdemes támogatnia. De persze az átalakulás sehol sem fájdalom vagy zökkenő mentes. És pénzébe kerül, ami adókból jön.  

A gyártmánnyal kapcsolatos kutatás, igazgatás vitathatatlanul legtöbbször az anyaországban történik, nem a gyártó országokban. Elismerten ezek jól fizetett és keresett állások. Beszéljünk arról a gyakori vádról miszerint a multik kirabolják a gyártó országokat, “zsákkal viszik ki a pénzt”. A multik a gyáraikban dolgozóaknak munkáért fizetést adnak, plusz sok esetben biztosítást is fizetnek. Ezen felül az állam szervezeteinek vállalati adót, helyi adót és sorolhatnám. Igaz hogy az elején néha egy időre ezen adókra könnyítéseket kaphattak, azért hogy odatelepüljenek, de mégis fizetést, biztosítást és adót fizetnek, pénzt ami azelőtt ott nem volt. Mi ez ha nem előny a gyártó ország részére? A gyártmányok eladása és az adók, stb. fizetése után persze marad profit. Ebből a vállalatok fizetnek nyereség részesedést, esetleg osztalékot a részvényeseknek. Költenek fejlesztésre, karbantartásra, jó esetben bővítésre is. Ha a cég sikeres lesz az a részvénytulajdonosokat gazdagítja. Jobb cégeknél ezek egy része saját alkalmazottjaik. Ha egy részvényes a részvényét eladja (azaz pénzét kiveszi) valaki más azt a részvényt megveszi. Ez egy pénzcsere, ami nem érinti se a vállalatot se a gyártó országot. Ha persze a gyártás veszteséges, a részvények ára lemegy és magával viszi a multi értéket.   

Záróul, és tudom nem mondok ezzel semmi újat, minden országnak igyekezni kell hogy saját iparcikke, vagy más, a világpiacon versenyképes áruja legyen, mert ez jobb mint mások termékeit gyártani. Támogatni kell a pénz otthoni befektetését és azokat akik vállalkozó szelleműek. De ettől függetlenül a multik odatelepedése szerintem adott esetben nem rossz hanem jó hír. Hasonlóan a turizmushoz pénzt hoz be az országba. Itt az ideje ezt beismerni.   

Rengeteget fordul elő a bloggon ez a téma. Nincs munka fiataljainknak, muszáj nekik (nevezd meg a várost) külföldre menni és éh-bérért ott dolgozni! Mondják.  
Tisztelet a kevésnek, azoknak akik ebben jó dolgot is látnak. Mint én. 

Mi is ebben a jó dolog? Innen kívülről nézve képzeld el úgy látod Magyarországot mint egy kis szigetet az európai tengerben. Szép sziget, furcsa nyelvvel megáldva és egy büszke néppel. Ők a legjobbak, sokuk mélyen hiszi, persze ezt más is (majdnem mindegyik nép) így hiszi, de sebaj. 

Az persze kár hogy gazdaságilag momentán nem mennek jól a dolgok, nincs elég munka. De kapaszkodj az én tanácsom (amennyi keveset az ér) ha jó idő lenne akkor is ki kellene menni! Miért? Tapasztalni, nyelvet tanulni a világot megismerni! El a falu végen levő ismert tótól, úszni a nagyvilág sodrában, ott megélni. Fiatal vagy és erős. Kissé tessék egy időre kozmopolitává vállni! Csak ne sokáig mossad azt a tányért, tudsz te annyit hogy az ottaniakkal versenyezzél! Nem jobbak ők mint te! Itt az idő hogy bizonyítsad és ne linkeskedjél. 

Na most ezután beszélhetünk. Ezután talán ráértél nagyobb dolgokra. Ezután ha úgy érzed hazamégy az az érzésem hogy könnyebben fogsz magadnak munkát találni és hasznosabb alkalmazott leszel. Magabiztos, világot látott más nyelvet is beszélő. Egy “self starter”. Tele kapcsolatokkal, értékes tapasztalatokkal. 

És ha nem mész haza? Ha netán beleolvadsz a nagyvilágba? Félsz ettől? A mai világban amikor 2 óra alatt Londonból (8 óra alatt New Yorkból) haza repülhetsz?

Mi van akkor ha ez a világ lassan de biztosan olyan irányban halad aminek a végén egy nagy “egyesült államok” lesz? Ahol az emberek keveredtek ahol közös tapasztalatuktól egy jobb világ lett. És te (főleg utódaid) ennek pirinyó részese lettél? Ahol hasonló lesz a lehetősége mindenkinek. Független vallásodtól, származásodtól, és böröd színétől? Nem nem a kommunizmusról beszélek. Hogy ez lehetetlen? Lehetetlen egy haszontalan szó. Ezt a szavat elsőkent el fogod felejteni.

Majd ha gyerekeidet kérdezik hogy ősei honnan jöttek ők fogjak mondani Magyarországról! És hol van az? Ott Európa közepe fele a keleti részén. Ott, látod, igen kicsi! Látogasd meg! Érdekes ország! És manapság jobban mennek a dolgok mint amikor szüleim eljöttek.

Többen jártak már Los Angelesben, de kevesebben veszik a fáradságot hogy felhajtsanak Pasadenába, a kis városba amit a San Rafael dombok és San Bernandinó hegy határol kelet felé. LA egyik nevezetes külvárosa, kb. 140 ezer lakossal.

Egy napot érdemes itt tölteni. Szóval csak célozd be az Arroyo Seco Parkwayt, Kalifornia legelső sztrádáját, ami állandóan emelkedik ahogy kígyózik észak-keletre Pasadena felé, mert a város kb. 260 méterrel LA felett van. Így kissé enyhébb a klímája. Vagy gyere fel a vonattal, 20 perc a Metro Gold Line-al.

Mi a látnivaló? Itt van a stadion ahol minden évben január elsején a híres egyetemi (amerikai) foci meccset tartják, a Rose Bowl-t, (Rózsák turnamentje). Ez, és a meccset megelőző látványos parádé mélyen be van itatva az itteniek pszihéjébe. Álmosan felkelsz az év első napján mit látsz Észak Amerikában majdnem minden TV adón? A Rose Bowl-t! 

Először látogasd meg a régi várost, a Colorado bulvár a főutca. Itt és a környező utcákon lehet sétálni, kávézni és élvezni a kisvárosias atmoszférát a mega-város közelében. Jó éttermek is vannak, itt született a kaja guru Julia Child és itt van az egyik leghíresebb séf képző iskola is (Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts).

Nem messze van a második leghíresebb amerikai műegyetem, (első MIT), a California Institute of Technology, röviden Caltech. Harminc három Nobel díjas található az itten végzettek között! És közel van a hozzá tartozó Jet Propulsion Laboratory. Mindkettő megtekintésére vannak ingyenes túrák.

Kissé nyugatabbra a lejtős oldalon, ami LA-re néz, számos régi milliomos villája található. Menj el a millomosok utcájába (Millionaire Row) azaz Orange Grove Boulevard-ra. Parkold kocsidat, sétálj… érezni (és látni) fogod mi az a “régi pénzes világ”.

Erre található a rágógumis Wrigley, a sör gyáros Adolphus Bush, az iparmágnás Gamble (Proctor and Gamble) és a vasutas Huntington villája. Az utóbbi most egy gazdag könyvtár/gyűjtemény körülvéve egy csodás parkkal és botanikus kerttel.

Itt van a Norton Simon múzeum is, nézz műveket Rembrant/Van Gogh/Picassótól.

Nem fogsz unatkozni.

Egyszer volt hol nem volt hogy az ősöm feltűnt Pécsett az 1700-as évek elején. Vagy kissé később, a pontos időszak vitatott. Családot alapított és mint a mesében, idővel sokra vitte. Az első Littkének számos fia és leánya volt, mint ahogy szokásos volt azokban az időkben. Az utódok tovább építették a család pozícióját és hamarosan a Zsolnay és Hammerli (kesztyű) családdal együtt Pécs jól ismert családjává lettek. A legismertebb vállalkozásuk az 1859-ben alapított Littke pezsgőgyár volt.

Teltek múltak az idők, minden rendben is volt egészen 1949-ig amikor is, fuccs.  Jól gondoltad, a gonosz mostoha (aki Moszkvából kapta utasításait) minden vagyonukat elvitte, azaz államosította. Az utolsó pezsgőgyáros Littke gyerektelen volt és 1963-ban a meghurcolások és vele járó kitelepítés után ideje korán meghalt. Az én nagyapám az utolsó pezsgőgyáros apjának öccse volt, azaz apám és az utolsó pezsgőgyáros elsőfokú unokatestvérek voltak.

De a mesének nincsen vége, kapaszkodj, Magyarországon 1989-ben megint változás történt és maga a mostoha megváltozott. Lévén hogy üzenetei többé nem jöttek Moszkvából, a vállalkozó embereket ismét tárt karokkal várta! Mi több, maga is kapitalistává transzformálódott...nem ragozom, a történet ismerős. És képzeld a Littkékről még utcát is neveztek el Pécsett! De mivel a változások utáni kártérítési törvény csak közvetlen utódokat érintette a Littke rokonság nem kapott kártérítést. Sorry mondta az áttranszformálódott  mostoha, bad luck....

Elég az hozzá hogy 1995-ben egy talpraesett magyar emigráns, aki történetesen Svédországba települt és ott a vendéglátó iparban nagyra vitte, az akkoriban eladó  gyárat az államtól hipp hopp megvette. Az illető, neve Császár, sikeres borászatot létesített Zala megyében, a cégének a neve: Cézár Winery. A Pécsi Pezsgőgyárba is sok pénzt fektetett. A gyár mellesleg most megint eladó, ha van kb. egy milliárd forintod, érdeklődjél.

Az tény hogy a pécsi Littke Pezsgőgyár egy szuper jó helyen van, a Szent István téren a Katedrálishoz közel, azzal szembenézve a jobb oldalon. Ami persze hátrány is mert egy gyár üzemeltetése teherautó forgalommal jár, és az itt az óváros szívében problematikus. 

A Littke utódok (már a háború előtt is) szerte széledtek a világban, ugyan Magyarországon is maradtak. Meglepett mennyi Littke nevű létezik az USA-ban (kb. 200) és itt Kanadában, (kb. 20), de vannak Németországban és Svédországban. Van egy Facebook oldalunk is. Ezek jó része valószínűleg talán nem a pécsi Littkéktől származik.

Én most egy Littke találkozóról akarok röviden írni, ami az idén Június 22.-én (egy szombat) zajlott le. Körülbelül húsz Littke leszármazott jött össze. Először a temetőben volt egy megemlékezés a Littke fő-sírnál, plusz a másik Littke sírnál. Ezt a pezsgőgyár túrája követte Császár úr tulajdonos jóvoltából és vezetésével. A Császár pezsgő kóstolása utáni túra magába foglalta az öt emelet mély pincehálózat megtekintését (ami a Szent István tér alatt rejtőzik) és amit már a rómaiak kezdtek építeni. Utána a gyár első emeletén levő lakosztály-irodát tekintettük meg. Ezt gyönyörűen rendbe hozták. Mind ezt egy ebéd követte a Pezsgőház Étteremben, az is a gyár területén van és Pécs egyik legjobb étterme. 

Ebéd után (nem pezsgős) nagyapám házának megtekintésére került sor. Itt nőtt fel édesapám. (Én már Budapesten születtem.) A ház az Apáca utcában (szintén a Szent István téren) van, a Katedrálissal szemközti oldalon, a gimnázium és templom mellett. Már sok ideje egy óvoda, manapság egy katolikus rend vezeti. Itt még sohasem jártam, külön köszönet a túra szervezőjének hogy a belépést biztosította. A találkozó a továbbiakban egy városnézéssel volt összekötve. Elsétáltunk az Elefántos Ház mellett, ami állítólag egykor szintén a család tulajdonában volt. Befejezésül a Király utcai Korzó Kávéházba mentünk egy kávéra, ezt anno szintén családunk egyik tagja vezette, a Lenci bácsi. 

Június 22, szombat egy speciális nap volt. Az összes múzeum estig nyitva és ingyenes volt. Tetejében Pécsett a Szent István téren (és máshol is) ingyen zenekarok szolgáltatták a zenét egész nap. A jó időben a város népe késő estig az utcákon sétált és élvezte a hivatalos nyár kezdetét.

A találkozó tagjai, néhányan messzi földről látogattak ide életükben először, nagyon jól éreztek magukat. Pécs gyönyörűen rendbe van hozva és a lehető legjobb arcát mutatta. Feleségem pedig aznap kellően ki lett “littkézve”, három családomat dicsőítő beszédet is kellet hallania!

A bemutatott képeket a találkozó alkalmával készítettem.

Olvasd a családom és a pezsgőgyár történetét az alábbi a linkeken:

http://hu.wikipedia.org/wiki/Littke_csal%C3%A1d

és

http://hu.wikipedia.org/wiki/Littke_pezsg%C5%91gy%C3%A1r