TravelStream™ news feed for member jazzkat6 on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/jazzkat6 en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Wed, 07 Oct 2009 08:53:54 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254503864/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254503864/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254503864/tpod.html Wed, 07 Oct 2009 08:53:54 -0400 The Empires Strike Back

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Asolo, Veneto, Italy

Our fantastic trip was set to end with a few days in Italy. Flying into Milano, we bade farewell to our final flight with Aegean, and disembarked into Malpensa with a decidedly chic Italian crowd, most sporting cool square rim glasses with varying representation of ROY G BIV.

Boarding the Malpensa express train, we headed into the city and found our way to the Milan Metro. Stepping onto the green line train, we were amused to find dilapidated cars with no AC. finally...something worse than the F train!

After a short two stops, we entered our station and lugged our stuff up a few flights. Not more that 100 meters was our very cool hotel, the Brera Carlysle, where we easily checked in and did the "don't unpack" for our 1 night stay.

We then made our way to the street and met my B School buddies Gaia and boyfriend Pietro for dinner at Bebel's, a fine but casual Milano joint with no English speakers in sight. Pietro did the honors and had us stuffed with sauteed veggies, rare meats, awesome wine and sweet desserts. For some reason I was the only espresso drinker at the end of the night. I guess we know who the real Italian is in this bunch!

In the morning, Nina and I extended what was supposed to be an early exit so that we could get an hour of Milano shopping in. She disappeared with a gigantic smile on her face and returned to the room (late of course) with an even larger grin...underwritten by four pairs of new shoes.

A bit heavier...but surely a lot happier, we made our way back to the train and picked up a little Fiat rental car at the airport. Nina being the only Manual Trans driver in this union, got the rare opportunity to be our driver and set us on a course for Asolo...a small Veneto town about 4 hours East.

Though the first 2 hours were pretty drab and gray, once we got near Verona, things started getting much nicer. After stopping at the Auto Grill for some awesome coffee, we headed off the Autostrade and wound our way passed Vicenza and into the Veneto hills.

Arriving in Asolo (with miraculous ease) we found the Villa Cipriani and checked in for a short stay at this phenomenal location for Dan and Melora's wedding. Over the next few days, we enjoyed tasty food, beautiful scenery and the type of storybook tranquility reserved for Montage sequences in Renee Zellwiger movies.

On Sunday morning, we were absolutely sad to leave and enjoyed one lingering breakfast on the hotel terrace before pointing the Fiat Westward.

With a complicated travel day in front of us, the stars would need to align in order to make everything work.The four hour drive to Malpensa seemed on track until we realized that most the Gas stations near the airport were closed on Sunday or took only Cash. After calculating the ridiculous charge that he was about to levy us, the Auto Europa agent showed us how to find a gas station and I ran to the ATM for some hard currency.

Making it back with time to spare, we boarded the Lufthansa flight and made a seemless and short journey to London where we would pick up our AA flight home.

Here the travel gods finally blinked...as our flight had suddenly become oversold. Without a seat or a bed, we chatted the crew up and found out how to get a 32 Pound crew deal at the nearby Ibis suites. Arriving in the lobby, we witnessed a huge bar party being held for "all airline crew guests". Noting our rate code, the desk agent invited us to join after we got settled. opting out, we laid the morning's outfits and set off for zzzz land.

with a 6AM wake up, we let the Iphone interrupt prime REM and jumped out of bed to catch our Airport shuttle. Arriving on time, we found our seats intact, boarded without issue and relaxed all the way home. I even watched the new Star Trek again...cause that movie is so freeking good.

All in all ...three weeks of near perfection. All destinations were excellent with Santorini standing out as the most amazing. Would love to spend more time in Istanbul and greater Turkey some time soon. Italy always beckons.

We'll see where life takes me next. Until then...



]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254244636/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254244636/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254244636/tpod.html Sat, 03 Oct 2009 07:37:45 -0400 The Empires Strike Back

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Athens, Attica, Greece

They all told us that Athens was "not worth it". Well after a couple days there, I must say that I disagree. The city is a nice mix of old and new, with friendly people and lots to do.

We had the benefit of staying in the extremely cool "Fresh Hotel" which was a short walk from Monastiraki station and gave us excellent access to all the historical sights. Aside from a comfy and functional room, the roof deck was a sweet place to hang out, offering excellent views of the city and ancient Acropolis.

Arriving the first evening, we made the short walk to the hotel, checked in and got a surprisingly good pasta dinner at the rooftop restaurant. With full bellies, we hit the hay and woke up early for a full day of sightseeing. After an incredible breakfast downstairs, we hoofed it about 15 minutes to the base of the Plaka neighborhood and found our way up the hill, passing the ancient and Roman Agoras in the process. Once on top of the Acropolis, we enjoyed the usual tourist sights, but were disappointed with the enormous cranes and other construction equipment that blocked our views of the ancient buildings. Looking closely, one could easily see that many of the monuments have been rehabilitated with modern pieces....which kind of ruins the magic.

Regardless, the views were awesome and we really enjoyed the experience.

On the way down the hill, we attempted to use our 12 Euro "all sight" tickets to enter the New Acropolis museum. We were told that our tickets were only good for the old musuem...which makes no sense being that they closed it down. Shrugging it off, we took a lovely stroll through Plaka, admiring the semi modern architecture (it's all relative!) and window shopping all the way back to Fresh. With the late afternoon ahead of us, we elected to hit the roof deck and enjoyed a great lunch and a couple of Mythos drafts as we read books, relaxed and watched the sun set over the city.

Though we had to leave the next morning, we were happy that we were able to enjoy a quick stop in this unique city. While Nina really liked it, I was only pleasantly surprised. It's deinfitely someplace I would be happy to visit again, but not by design.

Athens is a cool city, but it aint no Rome.

On to Italy!

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253899022/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253899022/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253899022/tpod.html Tue, 29 Sep 2009 17:34:44 -0400 The Empires Strike Back

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Santorini, Cyclades, Greece


Leaving IST, Nina and I were sad to say goodbye to an incredible city but excited for part three of our excellent adventure.... Santorini! Luckily, we had the fortune to fly on Aegean Air, an up and coming Greek Airline that recently began a pretty massive expansion outside of the country. Service from Turkey having just started a few weeks ago, we were among the first plane loads to enjoy a spiffy A320 with really awesome in flight services. Our favorite was the navigation updates that constantly played on the TV screens overhead, where the various flight angles and surrounding geographies were displayed in a very intuitive and interesting manner.

Transferring in Athens, we had a strange feeling that we had suddenly returned to civilization. Perhaps this was the stark difference between terminals....IST was pathetic and messy...charging 7 Euro for a watery coke...vs ATH which was modern, beautiful and offered killer espresso for under 2 Euro. Either way, we were happy to make our quick 30 minute hop over to Santorini and jumped in a taxi enroute to the Pegasus Suites in Imerovigli.

Since night had fallen shortly after our takeoff, we were left guessing about the seemingly awesome views from our beautiful little cave suite. We shrugged it off, hid the anticipation and headed to dinner at a local Greek Taverna. Here we enjoyed some ridiculously good grub, and would return a few times before the trip was over.

The next morning, as the sunshine subtly but confidently intensified in the arched window above our door, I could hardly wait to see what was out there. Nina was, of course, in the usual pre coffee zombie coma so I had no allusions that my movements would even come close to waking her. I drew off the crisp white sheets and excitedly heel-toed three paces to the door.

With it's opening came a gush of fresh, ocean air. Sunshine poured into my squinting eyes, with the type of force and power that the Sun I had come to know only reserved for special days. From the cliff on which our little white house stood, the earth fell sharply below for thousands of feet until it met with water that greeted with clear turquoise but quickly drew a blanket of strong Azure blues stretching as far as the eye could see.

Paradise.

"Wow" I muttered.

And I don't usually talk to myself.

Eager to share the view, I woke Nina with the promise of coffee and drew open the windows to show her why shuteye was for losers.

Soon after, an amazing Greek Breakfast of Breads, Fruits, Eggs, Meats and the most incredible Yogurt on earth was delivered to our terrace and laid out carefully on our table for two.

As we sat there for hours, we noticed people coming and going. We heard there was great stuff to see around the Island. But we couldn't move. And why should we? At some point, we shifted down to the hotel's pool, where we found some lounge chairs and a slight change of scenery.

But as the sun moved toward the sea, we moved back to our terrace, opened a bottle of local Island white that the hotel left for us, and watched as the water began to shimmer brightly in the afternoon light.

Eventually, the evening sky became the featured attraction as a dynamic pink and purple backdrop hosted a sun that changed from a pulsing giant into a small red ball looking for a rest in the serene Aegean sea.

And it was just like that every day.

Over the next few days, we pretty much slept in, ate great food and read. We did take a few small excursions, but only to gain variety of vantage.

The highlight was definitely the last morning, when after our final terrace breakfast, we caught the bus to the Island's most famous town, Oia, which sits on the Northernmost tip. After a short walk, we soon reached the end of the "city" and found a long winding path that led down the cliff to a small harbor. We took the 20 minute journey and found ourselves in the middle of a perfect spot. We chose a seat at Taverna Katina and ordered a whole Snapper, Greek Salad and a Beer. We ate in the sun, right on the water, and it was perfect.

After some drama finding a ride back to the Pegasus, we grabbed our things and headed to the airport. We were sad to leave...but so grateful for the opportunity to spend time in such an amazing place.

My words really don't do it justice. the pictures may do a bit better...but if you haven't already been, you just need to go.

On to Athens!




]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254033253/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254033253/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1254033253/tpod.html Sun, 27 Sep 2009 04:59:01 -0400 The Empires Strike Back

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Istanbul, Turkey

Istanbul kind of reminds me of my Nana: It's beautiful, sophisticated, on the older side, and has had a few different names. Since we had spent the first few days just scratching the surface, we all agreed that it was time to lear a little bit more about our lovely host.  

Armed with a local guide selected by the Daphne, we made our way up the hill and started our day with a visit to the Blue Mosque, one of the most beautiful buildings you'll ever see and among the most famous mosque's in the world. Walking through the domed interior, we gazed in amazement at it's gigantic blue tiled dome and learned about the protocol for daily prayers. 

Next visit was across the street to the Hagia Sofia, a gigantic church built by the Byzantine's back when the city was Byzantium...or maybe it was Constantinople? Who knows? Can never tell in this city. 

 The history here is that Justinian built it as a church back in the 6th century after two previous on the site had been destroyed. This time, in the city that was the Western Capital of the Roman Empire, he endeavored to build the tallest Church on earth, which he did. The record stood for nearly 1000 years.  When the Ottomans finally conquered the city in the 15th century, they converted it into a mosque, plastering over mosaics and adding minarets to the building. Since becoming a museum after the fall of the Ottoman Empire in the 20th century, much of the original art has been re exposed and provides an interesting visual layer to this Frankenstein building.  

Upon leaving the church, our unusual guide Joanna, told us she would take us "somewhere else". This happened to be a Turkish Carpet shop up the street, where a weaver was on site making panels. We were shown a demonstration of how a carpet is made and described how most handmade items are unique to the village or region in which they are produced. Weavers will place small designs or signatures within the art that distinguish them from anything else. 

Retiring to the showroom upstairs, we were treated to Turkish Apple tea (heated juice I later found out) and shown every carpet that we desired. Soon realizing that this had turned into a sales pitch, we thanked our gracious host John and headed back to the Archaeological museum for a tour of the antiquities that had been found throughout the greater Ottoman empire. The history and diversity was pretty astounding, but we were disappointed when Nina pointed out that much of what we saw were replicas. 

Finally free of our awkward guide and with a few hours of day left, we strolled back into Sultanahmet. As usual, we were greeted enthusiastically by the local shopkeepres and restaurant owners. When asked if Charles wanted a beer, he said he wanted a shave first. Did they know any good barbers? "Of course! Right upstairs!" 

Well...what luck. There in front of us was a sign for Adem's Barber shop. Climbing the narrow staircase, Carlos made the introduction and deemed the establishment sufficiently spic and span. I followed skeptically, having already agreed to join the fun. 

The shop owner, Adem was a young guy with a good grasp of English and a wit as sharp as his razors. When he found out we were Americans (rare tourists after the Italians, Spaniards and Brits) he told us in his thick Turkish accent

  "I am from Tex-ass!" 

What a coincidence!

He let out a soon to be recurring laugh and guided Carlos into the chair. 

 For 7 Lira, he told us, we could have just a shave. For 10, we would get the works. We elected to stick to the basic shave, but as we got to know one another and saw that he was skilled with the blade, became more interested in the full monty. 

 As I was called to the chair next to Mr. Rabkin, I watched Adem joking around, pushing Charles into as much grooming as could be provided. Neck Shave? Nose hair Trim? Haircut? Hot wax on the ears?

"Come on Man!" Adem would shout with every negation. "Are you a woman?!"

I told them to give me the works...not knowing what that even meant. I soon found out that everything above my Adam's apple would be addressed. The highlight had to be the "Hot Wax" which turned out to be a swab lit on fire and waved over your ear lobes to burn any strays. Adem displayed the skill of a runway attendant, and made my ears feel the heat ...but without burning me. Probably won't ever do that one again. 

As we paid our barbers and thanked them for the adventure, we asked for a good restaurant that served Turkish "Manti", a famous local meat pasta. Sure enough, the owner of a local spot was waiting for a shave and proceeded to guide us down the street to his establishment, tucked behind a street we would have never found. Sitting on long benches, we enjoyed a table full of Manti, which in this form were small, Gnocchi sized meat pasta topped with Yogurt and spices. Very tasty. 

After dinner, we walked back to the main drag and found our way back to a bakery that had been tempting us the whole trip. Nina and I shared Baklava and Turkish Coffee, while the SB team had Rice and Chocolate puddings. After dessert, we walked outside and bade farewell to our friends as they headed off to Southeast Asia via Qatar the next morning. How cool that we got to spend this time together!

The next day, Nina and I spent much of the time in and around the city's grand bazaar, where we wound our way through a maze of local shops, some very good...many not so good. The highlight might have been a nice lunch at Fes Cafe...which is a modern and delicious spot right outside the market. 

For dinner we headed out for a Turkish seafood in Arnavutakoy....a trendy little colony on the more modern side of Europe and right along the Bosphorus. In an attempt to save some money and skip the traffic, we took the metro to the end of the line (about half way there) and then hailed a taxi. I unfortunately fell prey to a classic Istanbul scam, where the taxi driver claimed he could not break my 50 lira note and in the shuffle handed me back a 5 instead. It's a bit frustrating to be taken advantage of...but more upsetting that the taxi on the way back tried the same thing. Istanbul has a reputation for crooked taxi drivers, and I can say from first hand experience that it is very well deserved. A despicable (and easily addressed) problem in a lovely city. A little confusing why the government does nothing about it. 

The next morning was our last and I spent most of it at the famous and ancient Camberlitas Hammam. A Turkish bath is an awesome experience and best witnessed in person. At this Hammam, I was greeted by some burly looking men who showed me to a small private room where I was told to leave my things and change into a towel. I then followed them into the steam room which featured a beautiful domed ceiling with a handful of perforations that allowed the sun to shine down upon a large round marble slab. Here I was instructed to lie on the hot surface next to a few other dudes. About 15 minutes later, a large hairy man named Omar grabbed my foot and told me to lie down against the edge. He then proceeded to exfoliate my body from head to toe with an abrasive sponge. He told me to sit up...and then grabbed a small bucket and filled it at an ancient looking marble basin nearby. seconds later he was throwing warm water at me to prep me for the next phase. 

"Lie down" he said. A did as told and found myself covered with the most fluffy soap I have ever seen. After the soap down, Omar drenched me again with buckets of cool water. He then told me that he was taking me into another room for massage and after I was to give him "tip Service". Half zombie at this point I did not resist as he pushed me into the next chamber, sat me down and began with the buckets again. He then vigorously washed my hair and massaged my back and arms...grunting happily every time he found a knot. 

At some point, I noticed that the massage had ended and I lifted my heavy head to see Omar motioning over my head, fat naked belly shaking with each pointing thrust.  "Turkish Bath GOOOOOD! Now Shower!"

Again...I followed directions and rinsed off. Walking out with a mixed bag of relaxation and exhaustion marking each step, I found the towel man who relieved me of my wet wrap and proceeded to dry the hell out of me. 

"Go Up, Change. Bring Tip!" Omar instructed. I obeyed and after ten minutes found the man waiting at the base of stairs for me. I handed him a few Lira and began an intense hydration regimen as I walked back to the hotel. Nina, out at the Spice market, soon returned and we packed our things and made our way up the hill to the metro and headed toward Attaturk Airport. 

With Greece on the horizon, I could best reflect on the week I had just spent in Istanbul. Overall, it is one of the top cities I have ever visited. It's got a Jerusalem like mix of old and new but looks and feels more like San Francisco. We spent most of our time in the Historic district and surely missed much of modern Istanbul's shops, restaurants, clubs and bars. I could easily spend another 2 weeks in the city and, if I have my way, will do so in the near future. 

My advice to future travelers is to allot at least a week in the city, Consider staying in a modern neighborhood and never trust a taxi driver. 

On to Greece!

   
 
  

 
  
 
 
 

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253467001/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253467001/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253467001/tpod.html Sat, 26 Sep 2009 06:00:32 -0400 The Empires Strike Back

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Istanbul, Turkey

What a city!

Istanbul has been on my list for my many years. And while it sits perpetually among the top contenders, it always seems to be beat out by some other glamourous destination like Cape Town or Cartagena. But the city on the edge would not be kept on the outs any longer. We were destined to finally meet...and what a time it was!

Transit to IST from London was surprisingly smooth as we took a very nicely appointed Turkish Air 777. The plane was so nice, that I am prepared to crown it the best international coach experience I have ever had. Right up there with South African Air. 

Under a blanket of darkness, we descended into the Euro/Asia Nexus and were greeted by a driver sent from the lovely little Daphne hotel, located on the quiet side of the city's historic district, Sultanahmet...named after....you guessed it, Sultan Ahmet. Both of us starving from a hard day of doing nothing, we inquired after some food and were sent a cold mezze platter to our room, which was cute and cuddly, with a semmingly awesome view of the Marmara Sea. 

Being hungry, I threw caution to the wind and began to chow down on whatever was in front of me. Nina smartly declined most of the offering...and focused on the bread. I think she might have even found a piece of cheese she didn't like. A first as far as I know. 

After popping a somewhat cold Efes from the mini bar, I jumped into bed and enthusiastically assumed the sleeping position. Slumber eventually came, but was soon disturbed by multiple onslaughts of Arabic shouting. Puzzled by the mayhem, and the language, I stalked to the curtain and placed an optical inquiry toward the Marmara. As the sun rose over the neighborhood, I quickly noticed that we were surrounded by no less than three mosques, all of whom had begun their surnrise prayers, which were being broadcast via loudspeakers from their highest minarets. Rooster be damned...I was woken by a Turkey. 

Falling back into bed next to a totally oblivious Nina, I found my way back to the sleeping place and did not wake up again until mid day prayers. This time, with a full night's sleep and ample understanding of the situation, I woke more slowly and found Nina laying contently next to me, hands behind her head happily listening to the still novel chants. 

We then hit the shower, brushed the teeth and shared a cliff bar before heading out to meet the city. For the first few hours, we strolled around Sultanahmet, viewing the various textile shops and historic mosques. Then, heading over the hill to the Bosphorus side, we followed the metro tracks down to Eminonou, one of the European ports, and strolled along the waterfront. As we made our way over the Galata bridge, my I phone rang and I picked up to find my oldest friend Charles on the other end. In the middle of a 100 day journey through Europe and Southeast Asia, he had just arrived in Istanbul and was ready to fulfill our loose and unlikely plans to meet up in Turkey. Seeing is believing I guess...and 30 minutes later, I was converted. Choosing a handful of bean bag seats in one of the local cafes that lined the lower level of the Galata, we caught up with Charles and Lady Natalie, learning about their prior adventures and sharing thoughts on their next few months. As the sun completed it's daily journey from Asia to Europe and sank below the hillside, we settled up and extracted ourselves from the impossibly deep seats. Leaving the pier, our eyes and ears made clear that the bridge had suddenly transformed from a mellow drinking spot into a full fledged party for young Turks. Looked fun...but the 1 man Synth bands were not exactly our scene. Not fully recovered from the prior night's Mezze debacle, I headed back to the room for some shuteye, while Nina joined Carlos and Natalie for dinner atop Taksim Square. 

The next morning Nina met the pair at the Hamam for a Turkish bath while I stayed put and worked on planning the remaining two weeks of our trip. Meeting them for lunch, all three looked shockingly shiny and relaxed. I must try this!   

After some great turkish grub, we strolled around the ancient neighborhood and hopped the Metro out to Kabatas where we met a ferry for an afternoon cruise out to the Prince's Islands, an archipelago just off the Asian side in the Sea of Marmara. After a really lovely (and slow) 90 minute cruise, we found the last stop at Buyukada and dismounted to find the Martha's Vineyard of Istanbul, complete with tiny seaside shops, small hotels and cute restaurants. Noticeable absent were motor vehicals, which were replaced by malnourished horses and donkeys...who were extremely noticeable...and smellable...even when not in plain site. 

After a quick stroll we stopped for some Turkish coffee at a cafe overlooking the water and enjoyed an amazing view. We soon made our way back to the port, paid our ridiculously cheap 1.80 Lira (1.5 per dollar) fair, and made the peaceful journey back, this time enjoying the sunset and twinkling city lights that soon began to illuminate.

Back in the city, we found the funicular and rode up to Taksim Square. Here we wound or way through hordes of young Istanbul-ers who were out for a night on the town. Finding a few choice back alley's Charles lead us to a hard to find and steep Beyoglu street that was lined with French and Italian restaurants, many featuring live music on their competing terraces. Grabbing a seat outside a small Italian joint, we ordered some tasty pastas and washed them down with more Efes. 

As the big hand got close to 12, we settled up and hurried down the hill to catch the last Metro home. Back in Sultanahment, Nina and I bade our friends farewell and made the quiet walk home. 

More to come... 
  
  
  
  
 
 
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253207791/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253207791/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/15/1253207791/tpod.html Wed, 23 Sep 2009 18:31:55 -0400 The Empires Strike Back

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London, England, United Kingdom

Just when I thought that a Cap and Gown ceremony in the thick of a great economic bloodletting was going to force me into travel hibernation, the gods of wonder and wander have again set me loose on the world. I will admit that the premise for this here journey is, in fact, 2 important weddings that have 2 important traits in common: they are 2 weeks apart and happen to be on the same continent...which doesn't happen to be mine. Less in consideration of the price and more the hassle of intercontinental air travel, Nina and I let it be known that we aint coming home...at least until the second union celebration over.

So away we went to JFK...leaving Desbrosses st on a muggy and schizophrenic Fall day that had me sweating all the way to the airtrain. Things got decidedly better from here as we met AA Captain (and Retired A.F. Lt. Colonel) Fuhrman at the airport and did a sweet mooch of his pilot privileges to wind up three happy campers close to the nose.

Being miles away from my corporate card/precious metal frequent flier status, it's been a while since I've been in the wide seats. But it came back to me quickly and I did the usual routine of trying to enjoy every ounce of food and drink while watching as many movies as possible before landing. Only problem with this is the lack of sleep on a 6 hour overnighter. It was literally over before I knew it and after bolting through the ridiculously awesome VIP lane at customs joined the rest of the Schmos boarding the tube for Central London. We unfortunately, were headed to Greenwich, which could not be on a more opposite end of L town.

But after nearly two hours of cheerfully accented stop announcements, found our way to the Novotel, right above the above greenwich platform. The digs were nice and I was unlikely to find any flaws with the inroom Nespresso machine. This would come in extremely handy when needing to get Nina out of bed for her own Sister's wedding. The shortbread biscuits helped too. "She's got a mouf-full of cookies!"

Over the next few days we rounded up the Fuhrman clan and enjoyed the surprisingly lovely Borough of Greenwich...touring the quiant streets and eating great pub grub at spots like Inside and The Rivington. (We of course made the obligatory trip to Borough Market so we could grab some fish and chips) It was particularly fun watching the new in Laws get to know one another. The mid westerners and the midlanders got on quite well though.

Kate and Oli's wedding was a lovely affair, in front of an intimate gathering at Our Lady Star of the Sea. We then visited Greenwich park for some awesome views north to london before heading to the Spread Eagle for a 6 hour feast that included 4 courses, lots of rose wine and an increasingly humid party room. By 6PM, we were all full and exhausted. I also left with mental overload after a few hours of batting back and forth with my new friend Dennis, the boyfriend of Oli's cousin. Originally from South Africa, this "Bru" sported the ultimate footie hooligan faux hawk and had one of the thickest accents on record. "Ucchh Shame Man!"

After a quick change, we headed out for more food and fun at Bar De Musee, where we gathered in a corner, drank tasty Guiness and ate some awesome burgers. Fun times all around.

With the morning upon us, I warmed the Nespresso up one more time and slowly got Sleeping Snootie out of bed. We packed up our things our slights above regulation carry ons and headed for the airport on our way to Istanbul!


]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238383500/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238383500/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238383500/tpod.html Sun, 29 Mar 2009 23:26:54 -0400 Juan Valdez vs. Pablo Escobar

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Cartagena, Colombia

Still laughing from Hicham's proud moments earlier, we threw open the curtains and got our things together for a day trip to the Rosario Islands. Meeting our friends in the lobby, we made the short walk over to Dolphin Dive Shop and were shortly after piled into a couple cabs in order to catch the boat in Cartagena harbor.

With a staff of 5 and about 10 guests, we quickly filled the small white whaler, which couldn't have been more than 25 feet in length. Revving up the two outboard motors, our captain shuttled us out of the wide harbor and toward the open sea. As the last marker floated past, the engines gave a load roar and the front of our ride raised upward, slingshotting us into the oncoming swells at a scary but thrilling rate.

Within 30 minutes, the mainland faded away and we began to see the outlines of the approaching tropical archipelago. With countless islands, the Rosario chain is mostly underdeveloped and has little in the way of regular transport or any of the 1st world comforts one might expect from such a picturesque Caribbean location.

As we wound our way past Isla Grande we came upon a maze of surrounding islitas, some of which were so small that only a house and dock would fit.

What a great escape.

Finally pulling up to Isla Pavito, we docked gently against the forearm of a narrow wooden pier, supported by short stilts that were visible all the way to the bottom of Chrystal clear turquoise water. We grabbed our gear, made landfall and had a quick tour of the small island, which contained a towering yellow inn, a dive bungalow and a small beach. With some fresh fruit juice delivered to us on the beach, we got changed into our diving duds and reboarded the boat so that we could be dropped a few hundred meters off the Island.

After an hour of not so impressive snorkel, we found the boat, threw in our flippers and struggled aboard. We dried off in the sun for a bit and waited for Marcin and the other Scuba Studs to come aboard. Flying back to Pavito, we disembarked and promptly claimed beach chairs. While the Scuba team went out for another round, the snorkel bums soaked up some sun and lauched as Hicham serenaded us with the best hits from his I-Pod.

I pulled my chair into the water and let the small waves lap at my feet while I tried to get moving on "The Omnivore's Dilemma." 90 minutes later, the Divers were back and we all retired to the Inn for an amazing lunch of fresh fish fried whole with coconut rice and Patacones...a wonderful and ubiquitous Colombian side made from mashed Plantains. Washing it down was fantastic tamarindo juice and Café fuerte de Colombia.

Though another dive was on offer, we all decided to take advantage of the inn's beautiful main quarters and lazed in bright woven hammocks that swung quietly from the dark wood beams of the high ceilings. When the dive master called us back to the boat, I almost closed the hammock around me and hid.

Back on the boat, we were asked to brave higher winds and much rougher seas than the morning. Though it was totally safe in retrospect, sitting in that little boat and getting tossed around by the sea was a bit scary at times. At the very least, I was kept cool by a constant splash from the triumphant mar Caribe.

Back in town, we spent the evening much as we would the next two days, shuttling between the pool and great restaurants. The next day, while Hicham and I toured the old city a bit, Gaia and Marcin awoke early to take another boat trip out to "Playa Blanca". The pics looked beautiful, and it sounded great. Only problem is the utter lack of transport and accommodations, necessitating a slow two hour boat ride that makes an hour long stop at a dilapidated aquarium, leaving no more than 120 minutes to enjoy the beach.

That night, our last in Cartagena, we ventured back to Palma for a farewell dinner. The only disappointment was my inability to finish the hearty linguini con Langostini and side of delicious tomato salad.

The next morning, we made the short trip to CRT in order to catch our Avianca birdy back to Bogota. As expected, the sky quickly turned to clouds as our beautiful seaside friend disappeared behind us. Landing in Bogota, we were packed into a station wagon that took us to our reserved hotel, the uber cool Art Hotel 104. Unfortunately, the manager informed me as I walked in that there would be no room for Myself and Hicham. After an hour of arguing, they finally put all 5 of us in a sister hotel a few minutes away. But not before I caught the chain's GM telling a pathetic web of lies about how the problem was caused. Though our new hotel, the celebrity suites was pretty cool, I was left with an awful taste in my mouth and had a tough time enjoying the huge room. Imagine my frustration later when I found that they were double charging us for our airport pickups. I've never sworn so loudly in a hotel lobby in my life.

Making up for all this was surely one of the highlights of the entire trip. That night, our Bolivian Sectionmate Rodrigo and his wife Lorena invited us to join them at the national stadium for the World Cup Qualifying match between Bolivia and Colombia. With seats right at midfield and about ten rows from the pitch, we were in perfect position to watch Colombia manhandle their guests. Adding to the adventure was the normal deluge of rain that seems to hit Bogota every day. After having purchased bright Yellow ponchos for 5,000 Pesos (about $2.25) each, we were well prepared for the storm and enjoyed most of the first half from underneath our patriotic trash bags. Rigo and Lorena of course would not purchase Yellow and stood out in their white ponchos, with pops of green from their local jerseys grinning through.

Though the entire game was a blast, a few things stood out. Most of all, the Colombian fans are totally crazy. There was even a guy next to us who had painted his beard like the national flag. Scary. Every time a player on the Bolivian team was either announced, or touched the ball, the crowd would yell out in unison..."Hijo de Puta!". I don't think that this would ever fly in the US....nor would the immense amount of trash hurled at the players. But then the guards seemed more interested in watching the game than monitoring the crowd.

As the game ended in a strong win for Colombia, we made a quick exit and beat the crowds to a horde of waiting yellow taxis. Back at the celebrity suites, the impending 5:30AM pickup dictated an early night and lots of pre packing.

In the morning, we checked out of the farce hotel chain forever and hit the road for our flight home.

Looking back on the trip, I will say that Colombia is somewhere that I am glad that I visited. The cities we got to know were unique and confident in their ways and were much safer than people will lead you to believe. People are for the most part very friendly and eager to help. The important exception here is some tourist related interactions, where there still seems to be a very third world, "scam the gringos any way we can" mentality. I, for one, really disliked this part of the country and it probably made the difference between a good and a great trip. That's not to say that with more local knowledge or some local friends, this might not have been remedied.

All in all, I would be happy to spend more time in Bogota if I needed to do business in the region. And Cartagena is a beautiful spot that will no doubt continue to improve. I would go back for the restaurants alone. Better access to the beach would be a nice step up.

We'll see where the next trip leads me...with school rapidly coming to a close, there's no telling where I'll choose to stretch out my final moments in never-never land.

Viva los viajeros!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238216520/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238216520/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238216520/tpod.html Sat, 28 Mar 2009 01:34:48 -0400 Juan Valdez vs. Pablo Escobar

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Cartagena, Colombia

Cartagena is lovely.

Located along the coast of South America's northernmost nation, its shores eagerly welcome the Caribbean Sea with not only open arms but an eager stomach. With a new and old section, Colombia's fifth largest city squarely follows the Latin American formula and within the walled Ciudad Vieja, colorful colonial feel is apt to remind the traveler other Latin classics like Old San Juan. Though the architecture is beautiful and the many big and small hotels quite striking, it's the city's food scene that makes it a destination to remember.

Walking out of the tiny airport, we found a waiting taxi and made the 5 minute trip into the walled city where we were dropped off at the Beautiful Santa Clara Hotel. With 5 story Orange and Yellow walls enclosing lush courtyards with open aired and arched hallways, the ancient monastery is one of the most peaceful and elegant hotels I have ever encountered.

Checking in, Hicham and I dropped our things in the comfy room and met Marcin for some lunch. We didn't have to walk far to find a great meal. A block away from the hotel at Cocina De Carmela, we enjoyed a flavorful Calamari Entrada and sweetly steamed fish. Check please!

Happy and just a little bit fatter, we made the quick walk back to Santa Clara and threw on our trunks for some quality pool time. Hicham was in the water before I could unzip my suitcase.

After a few hours of sun and splash, we excitedly got ready for dinner at La Vitrola, widely regarded as one of the finest restaurants in Cartagena. During the short ten minute walk, we made our way down narrow streets lined with gorgeous balconied homes and inns. Finally arriving at the restaurant, we were treated to tropical seafood and pastas, some nice vino blanco and a live Cuban band. A great meal and a great time.

The next day, we awake satisfyingly late and went in search of some grub. Walking through the square a few blocks down the street, I caught the outlines of our sectionmates Brian and Kristian tackling some gnarly sandwiches. Greeting them with some manly backslaps, we inquired as to the quality of the food and received hearty grunts of approval.

We have a winner.

Seated in the VERY local D'Alex, we ordered up a feast of a lunch and grubbed. My Arroz Con Pollo could have been the best yet tasted. Natural Fruit Juices, a wonderful tradition in Cartagena, washed with care. Smiles were formed. Bellies filled.

Heading back to the pool for the afternoon, Hicham spied a couple of Lovely Colombianas and soon made his move. Unfortunately for him, there was limited English in their vocabulary and I was waived over to translate. While I will admit that my Spanish is getting pretty good again, I am probably not best suited to translate the immense amount of flirting that was going on. Apparently, I did a good enough job as the older sister soon became a big fan of Hicham.

As the sun set, our crew met in the lobby and set out for a night in the Southwest section of the city... grabbing a nice Argentine dinner at Quebracho (Gaia says it was the best Carpaccio ever - and for an Italian, that's saying something) and then hitting Café Del Mar...an outdoor bar/club located on top of the city's Eastern Wall. A few tables away, Las Colombianas sat entertaining some other dudes. Hicham, following our early conversations regarding the female attraction to male Aloofness, did a great job of ignoring her. Glances were thrown...and I was not needed as a translator to make sense of the games going on.

After a bit, we were joined by about 10 sectionmates who had rented a house nearby. We soon packed into cabs and put put over to Quiebra Canta, a second floor salsa bar. We all danced for a bit and then went our separate ways. Hicham to another Bar, me to the pillow.

Wednesday was ...yet another... pool day. But involved a lot of shade, as Hicham and I were seriously burned from Monday's opening ceremony. He looked especially funny with bright red painted on his broad shoulders and gradually expanding man belly...all of this packed into a pair of tight fitting and multi striped Willberquin's. See pictures.

We relaxed in our chairs and watched as La Colombiana flirted heavily with a tall, tattoo covered dude. Watching with amusement, Hicham put the Aloof into high gear.

Then another great moment in my career as a multilingual pimp occurred on the shores of Little Lake Santa Clara when La Colombiana finally broke away from her new man and came over to visit her Lebanese Macho.

Ari (as La Colmbiana) - "Why didn't you call her last night?"

Ari (as Hicham) - "El Te Mando un Text Message!"

Ari (As LC) - "She wanted to see you."

Ari (as Hicham) - "Te Vio con un hombre anoche...y hoy con un otro hombre!"

Ari (As LC) - "They are just friends."

Ari (as Hicham) - "Te Mando un Text Message!"

Ari (As LC) - "It was late. She was asleep. Alone. (she grabs his hand). Thinking of you."

I then recused myself and retired from pimp-lating for the remainder of the trip.

That night, we made reservations for the entire section (13 of us!) at Palma, a super chic eatery across from the Santa Clara. While we had already enjoyed some truly excellent meals, this one was head and shoulders above the rest. Appetizers like the tender calamari salad and amazing seafood croquettes were a great warmup for incredible entrees. I had an entire fried Parguito Fish which was cooked to perfection. On the side was the most wonderful short grain brown coconut rice and a juicy tomato salad. I still can't get over how perfect the meal was...and Palma now tops my list of South American restaurants and Seafood establishments. Wow.

Still euphoric from the meal, the next few hours seemed to have faded from my memory.

But I am clearly remembering the next morning when, At 6:30AM, I am awakened by a loud knocking on our door. Who on Earth could it be? Did we sleep late and miss the snorkel trip scheduled for today? I look out the peep hole and see someone hiding to the side. Opening the door, I am greeted by La Colombiana.

LC - "You Friend. You Friend"

Ari - "He's asleep"

I am in my underwear, and she clearly wants in the room. But I am not budging.

Hicham's still asleep anyway.

She proceeds to place her hand to the side of her head and form the "call me" sign.

I look at her confused.

Thankfully, she soon gets frustrated with our little game and stomps off.

Adios Psycho!

With 20 minutes left until the alarm sounds, I crash on top of the sheets and stretch it out. It's not long enough to enjoy the sleep, but I am entertained by the opportunity to wake up the Studly Sheik with the story of his crazy girlfriend.

He listens intently...a smile growing wider by the second.

"I drive them crazy!"

That you do mi amigo.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238139540/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238139540/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/14/1238139540/tpod.html Fri, 27 Mar 2009 04:16:08 -0400 Juan Valdez vs. Pablo Escobar

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Bogota, Colombia

To be perfectly honest, I didn't really want to go to Colombia. As the end of my amazing two year
MB-vAcation came closer, however, the willingness to follow my friends rather than my most far flung travel desires steadily increased. And so when some close friends decided that Colombia was the place for Spring Break, I obliged. I'd never been there afterall..and you just can't go wrong there.

The group would consist of:

Hicham...my colorful and controversial Lebanese counterpart.

Heloise...The finest that Par-ee has to offer.

Gaia...The Italian stallion - ess

Marcin....a good friend of the girls...and a new friend to me. Polsky all the way to his bathing suit.

To the airport!

After so many miserable international flight experiences, I have developed such amazingly low expectations, that the superb 5:15 minute flight from JFK to Bogota seemed like a revelation. Decent seats and on-demand entertainment do wonders for this jaded traveler. So Bravo Delta...you done good.

Only issue with the air above Colombia is that it is always bumpy. For the last hour or so, we are stuck in our seats, nothing visible but clouds and distant flashes of lightning. After the bumpy approach, we touch down softly on the grooved Colombian pavement and quickly taxi to one of Latin America's more dilapidated terminals. But no matter. Lines are short and the transportation is waiting. I'll try to forget the fact that a lack of ATM's forced me to exchange twenty bucks...and the cashier took my fingerprints! I sure won't misbehave now.

Inside our nice white van, the international refugee all stars head to the hotel, located in the upscale northern part of Bogota. The Andino Royal is located on Calle 85 which is in the center of La Zona Rosa..or La Zona T, named thusly since there is a small collection of hip eateries and shops laid out on two streets that meet in a T shape.

The hotel was pretty nice...and the staff was immediately warm. Only problem was their complete lack of organization...which manifest itself during a 60 minute check-in that finally landed Hicham and I in a room that actually had no curtains on the window.

Hola...Front Desk Por Favor!

We got that fixed with a new room in another 30.

At this point, my head is pounding from a combination of jet lag, angst and altitude. Bogota is after all one of the highest cities in the world. And I don't mean Coca.

The team wants dinner. I want Bed...so I turn in and they head out for a visit with Mr. T. Hicham is back almost immediately after I have fallen asleep. Apparently, I am not the only one who is tired.

In the morning, we awake just in time for a nice breakfast in the lobby and head downtown to La Candelaria, Bogota's historic district. Winding our way through the lush green hills that frame the city, our taxis buzz southward and drops us at el Museo De Oro. Here we spend our opening Bogateno moments enraptured by historic figurines, jewelry and masks.

Most importantly, I venture to the basement and find my own gold...a Colombian coffee bar. Two minutes later, I am full with an awesome espresso and the popeye song begins to play in my head - as the concentrated caffeine finds its way into my suddenly bulging biceps.
~I'm strong to the finish, 'cause I drinks black spinach...I'm Ari the traveler man~

Escaping the museum, we walk into the thick of La Candelaria in the direction of Plaza Bolivar, the main square. Along the way we notice a bustling downtown, full of every day citizens...and very few tourists in sight. It's most similar to Montevideo in its authenticity and unique atmosphere...but the steep hills and colorful colonial architecture make me feel like I am in the Santa Theresa District of Rio or the Pelourinho of Salvador Bahia.

It's just plain lovely....and even the communist demonstration in the Plaza cannot detract. I will say that it is certainly nice to encounter such a demonstration and not see thousands of anti America/Anti Bush signs. Thank you Barack.

As the day wears on, we continue to avoid impending precipitation and stroll through the neighborhood, stopping to admire beautiful cathedrals and the Botero Museum. Hunger comes knocking soon after and we wander like Israelites, past too many closed restaurants that seem shuttered for no good reason. Finally, I scout out Restaurante Rosita and confirm that it's open. Waving down a narrow street to my friends, they trudge up the steep cobblestone path and meet me out front.

It's unique and very local...and I am now super cool in the eyes of my friends.

Lunch sounds great...and our perch on the third floor overlooking the city is a fun time. The food is sub par..but cheap...so it's OK. Clouds begin to work together and promptly release a deluge that contains enough force to find its way through cracks in our roof. Moving our chairs to avoid the drips, we order more drinks and wait it out.

Turns out it's Helo's birthday, so I find the waiters and order a "cake and a candle"...which ends up arriving in a baking tin with an umbrella on top. At least she'll never forget this one!

With the rain unlikely to let up, we fight boredom for a while...playing with the "truth or dare" application on Marcin's I Phone. For some reason, nobody want to select "dare"...so I do when the bottle hits me...and am obliged to belt out my loudest yodel.

No sweat.

After another 30 minutes, we decided to make a run for it...literally...and sprint across the square to a nearby tavern where we enjoy some spiced wine before flagging down a few taxis back to La Zona Rosa.

We take a quick nap and arrange for a car that can take us to the famous Andre Carne De Res, a popular restaurant/party extravaganza 30 minutes outside the city. Pulling up to the establishment, which is actually in the middle of nowhere, I quickly notice lines of taxis and hired cars waiting in the parking lot. This is a popular spot.

Walking in, I am overwhelmed by the familiar feeling of TGI Friday's yet there is something so Colombian feeling about it that I am immediately intrigued. With tables lining every possible nook and cranny, attractive servers and patrons roaming the narrow walkways and dance floors booming in the middle, the establishment is like Disneyland for single Colombians and their select foreign friends. And it is indeed select when it comes to gringos...only us and a few other groups of HBS students appear to be tourists. It was great seeing some of our good friends from school, especially Ben, who matched us drink for drink and proceeded to parade around in a "Miss Colombia" sash.

As the tasty food and drink arrive, we polish off platefuls of Empanadas, Fried vegetables and juicy steak. It's not long before Hicham has gone through a few giant "Mandarinas" and we are all on the dance floor, grooving to an excellent mix of Latin and world hits.

We head back to the car about 3 hours later.

What a night.

The place is really beyond description...you kind of have to experience it to understand.

Rising in the morning, we grab another nice breakfast and load up a van to catch our flight to Cartagena. Though I expect some madness at Latin American airports, I am pleasantly surprised with the calm at BOG. That is until we find out that we have to go through security and then take a bus to the other terminal. Thus a 15 minute process becomes 45. Good thing we arrived early!

Of course, we make the flight and soon go through the usual experience of Colombia's unfriendly skies. But it's all worth it when we finally descend and see lovely Cartagena ahead. Sitting peacefully like a not-so-polished antique ring against the bright green Caribbean water, it's a sight to behold.

Round Rubber hits runway and we are on the ground...excited for what lies ahead.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/13/1231810920/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/13/1231810920/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jazzkat6/13/1231810920/tpod.html Mon, 12 Jan 2009 21:13:50 -0500 The Brothers Bloom and the City of Good Wind

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Buenos Aires, Capital Federal District, Argentina

The approach to BA's Domestic Airport is pretty cool. As you descend into this sprawling metropolis of 12M people, you feel as though the jet may just set down in the middle of downtown. Considering the width of the famous Ave 9 De Julio, it could probably happen. On this day, we would follow the normal flight path and soon touched rubber to runway on another sunny and clear Summer afternoon in El Capital.

Jumping into another ancient but cheerful taxi, Fun-E and I took a short ride back to our home in Palermo. Our driver was friendly as always...asking us questions about our origins, smoking cigarettes (illegal) and even falling asleep at a few stoplights. "Lo Siento Chicos...Hace mucho Calor!"

Soon after opening the puerta, we were ready to get back out into our beloved Palermo and made the short walk on Calle Honduras, past the train tracks and over to the supercool Home Hotel for happy hour. Had we not had Elise's place, this would have no doubt been our base. Located a block away from one of the neighborhood's main social corners, the hotel sits peacefully (and covertly) in a converted apartment building. Upon entering the sparse mid century modern lobby, one instantly becomes ten times cooler...for only having known to walk in in the first place.

In what was once the building's back yard now sits a chic indoor/outdoor café/bar which overlooks a spacious yard with a wood burning fireplace connecting to a lovely pool deck. The lush greenery, great comida and beautiful young staff and clientele make this spot one of a kind. We lingered for a few hours, ordering some snacks and the Bloom Brothers' famous "Pick Me Up, Put Me Down" cocktail sequence....
1) Espresso or Cappuccino
2) Still and/or sparkling water
3) Mucho cerveza.

As dinner approached, My brother from the same mother indicated that it was time to forage for the next meal. Obliging as always, I helped him as we began the always lengthy process of flagging down an Argentine server. Once Evan finally made eye contact with one of the beautiful Camareras, he made the "check please" motion in the air. While this motion (where one pretends to write a note in the air while mouthing "the check" in the appropriate language) is universal, it is funny to see the finer points of each nation's technique. Unlike the US, where the customer makes a quick squiggle in the air...Argentines appear to write complete sentences to each other. By the end of the trip, Evito and I where well trained in writing lengthy treatises to our servers. Genereally...the cuter the camarera , the longer note she got. All's fair in Love and international exchange rates I guess.

Walking out of the awesome hotel (which I would rank as the second coolest small urban hotel after the claska in Tokyo) we found Ave Fitz Roy and hung a Louis so we could finally eat at the much anticipated "Standard"...where Porteno food was served with a modern twist in a fantastically designed location.

Ordering Grilled Fish, Milanesa, Ensalada and Papas we were far from disappointed. The quality of the ingredients was excellent and it was cooked just right. Had they not tried to blatantly overcharge us when presenting the check...I might even call it the best restaurant we ate at during the entire trip. Full to the brim, we waddled home and began the nightly hibernation.

Waking up on our last full day, we had made special plans to visit with the last remaining member of our Argentine family. This is something that we have both been looking forward to for many years as we have heard stories since we were born.
The tale goes like this...In all branches of our family, our great Grandparents' generation left Eastern Europe and Russia for the new world. On our paternal grandmother's (safta's) side, her parents and their siblings all moved to the US directly or via Canada....with one execption...her uncle Joe...who could not get in and moved to Argentina with plans to come to the US.

The story goes that he quickly fell in love, got married and changed his name to Jose....Jose Weinstein!!!

Jose worked in various businesses before settling into the shoe business. He had (3?) children in Buenos Aires who would have been first cousins with my Safta. Cousin Flora (b. 1925) married a "Winer" and had two children...Mirta and Daniel. Tragically, Daniel, an engineer and university professor became one of the "disappeared" after he was apprehended and killed during the dirty war.

Mirta married a "Calemzuk" and had two children, Emiliano and Daniela (named for her uncle). They are each a few years my senior and have a young daughter...Yael and Mila.

The entire Calemzuk family now lives in the US...but we have yet to meet them!!!
But being in BA, we got our chance to meet Flora...who moved back to Argentina after 7 years in the US and some Visa issues. She speaks very little English and I was kind of amazed how easily it was to find her and make a date to visit her at her apartment in Centro.

It was an amazing experience...as we spent a few golden hours learning about Flora and the rest of our Argentine family...all in Spanish!!! We knew that she was Safta's cousin when we saw their identical handwriting and for the fact that she literally fed us nonstop.
We fondly said farewell to our dear cousin...she telling us "Hoy Siento muy Joven"...I feel very young today. It was awesome.

We walked out onto Calle Callao feeling just a little bit more attached to this wonderful city.

With just one more night left on this excellent adventure, Evan and I made plans to meet Jessica and a friend at Sarkis for a farewell dinner. As usual, the food was plentiful and did not disappoint. Jessica's friend Johanna was great...a very talented graphic designer and amateur cook. Elbow and I both had lots to discuss with her...even though she hardly spoke English...at least until she drank a bit.

Upon ordering the restaurant's famous Turkish coffee, we found out that the fortune teller was off for the night. (You'd think that somebody who could tell the future would have known that Saturday was going to be busy!) Considering this, we decided that we would all trade coffee grounds and read each other's fortune.
Jessica started by telling Evan that he should beware someone with a name starting in "A"...and that she saw him and houses and Buenos Aires.

Evan saw Jessica writing something special...more than Diaper commercials.
Johanna said that I would have a major change in my life coming up and that someone with the letter S would play a big role.

When it was my turn to read to Johanna...I attempted to do so in Spanish. Big Mistake.
While I meant to say that I saw a pig in a kitchen...I apparently called her a pig. Thankfully, it was cleared up shortly and I proceeded in English...telling her that she would be in Brazil soon (which turned out to be true...I have a gift).

After some more laughs, we wrote a nice air letter to the server and we settled the tab.
With full bellies, the long walk to "Olsen" was well worth it. Arriving 15 minutes later, we were greeted by one of the cooler spaces I have seen...a chic outdoor patio with deck tables and grass bound cushions. Inside, the bar and restaurant were perfectly framed together amid earthy woods, cool white walls and a ridiculously high warehouse ceiling.

We nursed our drinks for a bit (Brother Bilbo Baggins had to finish mine), and chatted more about Johanna's business. Turns out, she designed the artwork for Hiho batik, one of the brands I work with, and is currently working on the new line of clothing for Stephan Marbury. I get the distinct feeling that we will be working together in the future.

As the night wore on I was reminded of a passage from a book I had read on the trip that said "it was getting very late and close to very early"...so we wrote the note, paid the bill and set out into the breezy Porteno night.
On the sidewalk, we said goodbye to our new friends, promising that we would see them again, one way or another.

Walking home for the last time, E.B. and I quietly took it all in.

Waking up the next morning, we got our things together and gave the apartment a thorough cleaning. For our final meal, we hit up our beloved Gardelito...where I ordered Noquis caseros "Gardelito"...Pesto with Ham...and Young Bloom-San had the waitor's recommended meat and potatoes.

Both were excellent as always. I watched as E took mental snapshots and placed them squarely between his heart and his stomach...a place reserved for only the most monumental of experiences in his life.

We went home happy, packed our things and relaxed until David came to pick up the keys.
We'll be back...someday soon....no doubt.
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