Tag: Travel

If I Were A Paranoid Man

Marketing / Advertising

We’re all familiar with the situation:  you post something about a government conspiracy and the very next day you get a pop-up ad when you open a web page somewhere:

As I said in the title, if I were a paranoid man…

Not long ago I was running an errand which took me down the horrible I-35 south of Dallas.  It’s horrible not because of the road per se, but because to get to the I-35 south of Dallas from where I am, I have to somehow get around the Dallas downtown area, which as any local yokel will tell you, can be a terrifying experience.  (What tourists or newcomers feel when facing this situation I cannot even begin to fathom.)

Anyway, as any local yokel will tell you, South Dallas is a place to be avoided at all costs (think:  East L.A., South Side Chicago, Boston’s Combat Zone etc.).  Yet there I was, trundling along…

…and got a puncture which tore my right-hand rear tire to shreds.

Fortunately, it happened about 50 yards before an off-ramp, so I managed to get off the interstate and pull into a service station parking lot, there to await the arrival of roadside service.

Tangent:  I know how to change a tire, I’ve done it dozens of times before, but I’m decades older than I was the last time I did it, and as my insurance company provides the service for free… why the hell not?

However, I soon noticed that my environs were not the most salubrious, in that when I went into the little convenience store to get a Coke, the cashier was encased behind what looked like 12″-thick armored glass and stout steel bars.  The message was obvious, so I decided to forego the Coke and get back to my car ASAP.

I didn’t get back inside the car because that way I wouldn’t be able to get a 360° view of my surroundings, and more importantly, by standing next to the car I would have easy access to both my trusty 1911 and its backup, should that be necessary.

I waited for about an hour for the roadside service guy, and was only accosted by one scrote who needed a $5 gift “for gas to get to work”, a likely story as he looked like the last time he worked was during the elder Bush presidency.  Besides, I wasn’t going to get my wallet out only to be confronted by a knife.

Because if that happened, I’d have to shoot the asshole and then would come the cops, the call to my SCCA attorney, endless paperwork, confiscation of my 1911, forget about keeping my appointment… you get the picture:  all that hassle just because I might ventilate someone totally deserving of ventilation.

So I just pointed at my tire-less rim, and snarled that I had my own fucking problems and to leave me the fuck alone.

Which he did, fairly quickly and without any fuss.  Clearly, I didn’t look like a potential victim, for some reason.

Anyway, roadside service arrived and put on my “spare” (just a donut, 2,000-word rant omitted ).  Except that the donut was flat, despite the assurance from my last oil-change provider whom I’d asked to check on the thing (another 2,000-word rant omitted, but he just lost my business).  Fortunately, road service guy had one of those little quick-pump thingies which took care of the problem right there, so off I went, late for my appointment, but buoyed by the certain knowledge that afterwards, I’d have to stop by Discount Tires to get a replacement, oh joy, because there was no way the donut would get me the fifty-odd miles home, on said Dallas-area freeways where you get run off the road for daring to drive at only 70mph.

Anyway, I told you all that so I could tell you this.

Two days ago, I got an email which featured one of these:

It was the first such ad I’ve ever got in this manner, and if I were a paranoid man…

So the question is — because the coincidence seems a little too strong, even for me — how did these hucksters get my email addy?  From the insurance company, or the tire outlet?

Your guesses in Comments.

Afterword #1:  I actually already have one of the above in the trunk of the car, but I couldn’t remember when last I charged it up, which is why I relied on the roadside service guy to handle the problem.  I did recharge it when I got home.

Afterword #2:   I ended up getting four new tires, because apparently the 50,000-mile warranty didn’t cover tires that had passed the 100,000-mile mark some time back.  As the tire guy put it:  “You’re damn lucky you haven’t had at least two blowouts by now.” 
And the only way I was able to afford those four new tires was because of my Readers’ generosity during this, my Last Appeal (which still has a day or so to run, hint, hint ).

Quote Of The Day

QOTD, Travels

From SOTI:

“The secret to Paris is to go to any of the major sites, turn around, and walk 45 minutes in the opposite direction.  Paris becomes absolutely lovely.”

Couldn’t agree more.  One of the highlights of one of my trips to Paris was walking from the Louvre / Palais Royal to our apartment on the Place de la Bastille, all the way along the Rue de Rivoli / Rue Ste-Antoine.

Of course, the above were taken with Google maps, during the summer.  I was there in December, so the streets looked nothing like this. Here’s the Place de la Bastille as it actually was:
Yeah, something about “witch’s tit cold” comes to mind…

Depends On Your Definition

Culture, Travels

Oh look!  another one of those “foreign country” lists, only this time it’s all about “friendliness” towards newcomers — specifically expatriates — to the country.  (I’ll talk about that definition further down the page.)

Here’s the list in its entirety.

Let’s just talk about that “friendliness” thing.  The article states:

The result comes from a survey by InterNations, an expat guide, which asked foreign residents in 53 countries around the globe to rate their new home. 
Expats were asked about their social life, whether they felt at home, how easy it was to get used to the culture and the friendliness of the local population.

Right away, I’m going to disqualify from the list any Muslim country — e.g. Turkey and Kuwait — because if you ain’t Muslim yourself (and follow their specific brand of Islam withal) — your treatment by the locals is not going to be that friendly.  That Qatar (22), for example, ranks far ahead of the United States (38) makes the whole list suspect.

Other than religion, which is an obvious speedbump, let’s see how friendly the locals are when you don’t speak — or don’t attempt to speak — their language.  At best you’ll get a shrug;  at worst, you’ll encounter withering xenophobia.  This is especially true of nations for whom English is not the de facto  language of government, or where English is hardly spoken outside a few places in the cities.

I’m not going to re-rank the listings because it’s a big job, and I haven’t been to most of the countries on the list anyway.  But from what I’ve seen…

The only countries I’d even consider moving to — becoming an expat — on the basis of the likely friendliness of the locals, anyway, are the following (in no specific order):

Chile — been there, loved the place, loved the locals that I met when I was there, and I’d make it my first order of business to become fluent in Spanish within a few months, by crash courses, immersion, whatever.  I’m pretty sure I could fit into the culture without much difficulty and I’m pretty sure I could make a go of living there for the rest of my life.  And I love Chilean food, all of it.

Czechia — never been there myself, but everyone I’ve spoken to who has been there for longer than a year has had nothing but good things to say about living there, and that’s good enough for me.  I’d need a lot longer to learn the language because it’s not Anglo-Romantic or Germanic but Western Slavic, although written in Latin script and not Cyrillic.  (This latter factor would disqualify several of the other countries, such as Greece, because I’m not interested in learning how to read as well as to speak.)  I don’t think that immersion would work because there are no points of linguistic similarity between the European languages I do speak and Czech.  So:  a struggle, but probably worth it.  As for Czech food:  like German, it’s apparently heavily weighted towards pork, which does get a little tiring after a while.  That said, I want to try their pork knuckle (koleno)  because apparently it’s incredible.  And there’s always goulash, which I could live on quite easily, and schnitzel, although I prefer the Austrian veal dish to pork.

Poland — same as Czechia.  I have never met a native Pole (and there have been quite a few) whom I’ve not liked immediately, but I realize that learning the language would be hellish difficult (it’s close to Czech, actually).  But I’d be willing to give it a shot.  The only (minor) problem might be the Polish cuisine;  I’ve eaten more than a few Polish dishes in and around Chicago and Milwaukee in places where I was the only customer not speaking Polish, and on the whole I found the food to be bland and kinda tasteless.  And I don’t care much for pirogi…

Netherlands — I’ve been there a couple of times, and I’m pretty sure I could fit in there.  I found the Dutch to be warm and friendly people — in the cities, anyway — and while parts of their culture jar me a bit, they are cosmopolitan enough to where I could adapt quite easily.  The cuisine is likewise quite cosmopolitan and if I wanted, I could always get something familiar — possibly the only advantage to having grown up Afrikaans is the Dutch-like food I had as a kid.  (Pannekoek, yum frigging yum.)

Belgium — just not in Brussels, which I hated.  I could handle Flemish without too much problem — it’s reasonably close to Afrikaans, actually — and the food is lovely.  I know someone who moved from South Africa to Antwerp, and she and her husband fitted in without any trouble whatsoever.

In passing:  one thing I have learned is that Chile, Czechia, Belgium and Poland all have pretty reasonable attitudes towards personal gun ownership;  the Dutch rather less so.

Missing from the above list is Argentina, perhaps because not that many people have moved there and the sample was too thin, but I might be persuaded to look at Buenos Aires.  At least they and the Uruguayans have the right attitude towards beef… and I’ve been ordered to put Buenos on Ye Olde Bucquette Lyste by someone who said she’d move there tomorrow if she could.

In a lot of these countries, I’d never even try to move there because one of my absolute must-haves is the ability to drink water from a tap without suffering any short- or long-term physical illness.  (Bye bye, India.)

As for pretty much all the rest:  pass*.

*Some people might be wondering why I no longer wish to live in Britishland, but the reason is simple:  the cities and larger towns are too crime-ridden, and in the country a newcomer mostly faces at best indifference and often withering xenophobia.  Maybe I might be persuaded to try a few places in the UK, but overall the quality of life Over There is no longer as attractive as it once was, despite sausage rolls and Wadworth 6X.  Of course, I have several friends in England, which might make it easier to settle in;  but all in all, that’s not enough to sway the argument.  (Sorry, Sorensons and The Englishman.)  I should also point out that I have somewhat fewer friends in Britishland than I once did, because quite a number have moved abroad and have no intention of ever coming back.  In fact, there is a far greater chance of several more coming Over Here to live with me… because they absolutely hate what Britain has become (neo-fascist).  And I’m pretty sure that my ummm speech would not be to the liking of the fuzz.

*Also, France.  There are parts where I could settle in quite easily from a cultural perspective, but let me tell you, the Frogs are not that friendly towards strangers.  Some expats have lucked out in this regard, but it’s not the way to bet — hell, I’d be speaking French fluently within a month or so, and still I’d struggle.  And like with the Brits, French TV really sucks.  And Man shall not live by French bread and cheese alone, although I’d give it a college try.

And you all know how I feel about Strylia.

Let Africa Split

Africa, Geography

Okay, that’s just a silly play on the title of an essay some guy once wrote, but this development is interesting:

Scientists have warned that Africa is breaking apart faster than previously thought.

A 35-mile-long fissure in Ethiopia’s desert emerged in 2005 but has since been widening at a rate of half an inch per year.

Researchers previously believed the split would take tens of millions of years, but Ken Macdonald, a professor at the University of California, Santa Barbara, told DailyMail.com that it would likely happen within one to five million years.

The separation would also create a new ocean and continent on Earth. 

No doubt, someone will soon be ascribing this to Global Warming Climate Cooling Change©, because reasons.

Take-Home Foods

Food & Drink, Travels

As someone who’s traveled quite a bit, this article struck a chord with me:

A recent Reddit discussion has highlighted how trips abroad are capable of permanently changing a traveller’s diet, with commenters revealing foreign dishes they had on their travels that they now can’t stop eating. 

The list includes acai from Brazil*, Morocco’s cinnamon-dusted oranges, onigiri (Japanese rice balls), pasteis de nata (milk custard tart) from Portugal, ajvar (a red pepper paste) from the Balkans and even spaghetti carbonara  from Italy — which is quite different from the stuff you’ll get at Olive Garden, trust me.   (There’s other less-salutary stuff like haggis and buffalo wings on their list, but whatever.)

*can someone tell me the difference between acai and blueberries?

One of the foods on the Reddit list struck home for me:  French baguette and butter — which, having sampled it in Paris, made me refuse to eat American shelf bread ever again. Seriously.  Who would have thought that simple bread and butter would be an exquisite meal all by itself?  (Well, anyone who’s ever tasted the real stuff.)  It’s one of the few dishes which I prefer eating with unsalted butter, because the bread becomes unutterably sweeter.

That Portuguese tart (not Sarah Hoyt) is very familiar to me as the Afrikaans melk tert (they’re almost identical, and the Seffricans have even made a cream liqueur based on its taste).  The only difference is that the Porros use puff pastry instead of pie crust pastry.  Hmmmm… now that’s a thought.

I”m going to try the Moroccan oranges this weekend after I’ve done the Friday shopping (no oranges in the house), but with three different sugars as an experiment to see which tastes best.  (Light brown, Demarara or 10x mixed with the cinnamon, in case you’re wondering.)

I’ll also try making ajvar,  which sounds like hummus mixed with ground spicy red peppers, but I’ll use South African Peppadew spicy peppers because they are spectacular.

There are a couple that I’ve encountered on my travels which I wish were staples Over Here.

One of my all-time favorite imported meals happens to be poutines, from Canuckistan, but only one place around here makes them properly (the Holy Grail pub in Plano).  I must have eaten poutines at least twice a day when driving back from Montreal to Detroit, along with Tim Horton’s coffee to wash them down.

Another is Viennese Sachertorte which, having had some in meine schones Wien, would kill me if I could find it here because aaaaargh it’s luvverly.

Over Here, we’d call it “death by chocolate”, because it really is.

There are a few others, but I think they would be best enjoyed in their home countries (e.g. pisco sours in Chile and Welsh rarebit in Britishland).  Of Wadworth 6X and Greggs sausage rolls we will not speak.

And so, Gentle Readers:  tell me about your favorite furrin dishes, in Comments.

I Did Not Know That

Travels

…the term “rawdogging” had this meaning, in a travel sense:

A new travel phenomenon has swept TikTok in the form of ‘rawdogging,’ which means consuming no form of entertainment during a flight – except for the basic maps or data shown on the seatback screen.

Taking it to greater extremes, some will also claim to forgo food and drink for the duration of the journey.

Many videos show travelers with blank expressions as they stare into space, while overlaid captions brag about them completing the challenge. 

However, a team of travel experts from the site Netflights have now warned that the practice can have many negative impacts.

And here I thought “rawdogging” on a flight meant some kind of unprotected sexual congress with a flight attendant.  Shows what I know.

Anyway, while I can sort of see the experts’ [coff coff]  point, I don’t buy into their argument wholeheartedly.  I quite like to sit and gaze into space with a “blank expression”;  in my day, that was called “quiet contemplation”, and on short-haul flights I do it all the time, not needing constant stimulation to be happy, or at least passably happy.  Transoceanic flights are a different animal, however, but a decent couple of “disposable” books — ones that can be tossed without regret after completion — usually fit the bill admirably.  And I loathe airline movies because they’ve mostly been bowdlerized Because Of Teh Kiddies.

Also forget forgoing food and drink on a long flight;  that’s just plain stupidity, spelling as it does hunger and dehydration.  This is why God invented biltong, my children; and dehydration in the pressurized cabin is no frigging joke, especially if you are at risk of a gout attack (ask me how I know this).

Speaking of biltong:  I see that our supply thereof has fallen to a dangerously low level, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the kitchen.  I may be feeling poorly, but sometimes ya just gotta.