Сентябрь 22, 2004
G in his new hat
Сентябрь 17, 2004
Home
9/17 14:50 Portland time
So.
I figured on waiting to post my wrap-up until my computer was repaired. HA! I'm going to be on this 'loaner' until next week at least; I need to get this into writing before it gets too fuzzy. Pics are on my computer and will therefore have to wait a bit longer.
The last couple of days in Brisbane were entertaining -- though I did discover that I appear to be allergic to the detergent used by the hotel on bedsheets (itch, itch, itch). I headed back over to the dealership in Rocklea for some test-driving to experience a problem we're seeing every once in a while with a harmonic excitation of the front ends of our trucks, which makes them hop up and down (though not actually off the ground) at between 80 and 85 kph. All in all, not a bad day, hanging out with the vice president of the company which owns our Aussie distributorship in teh morning, then with mechanics in the shop all afternoon. Plus, on my way past the prison -- as the only place to see roos, it's become a regular stop on my way back from Wacol every evening -- I got to see a kangaroo hop right in front of my car; almost hit the stupid thing and put all that pain and effort getting the car fixed to waste! Still, neat to see one really cruise.
Dinner was with the main dealership's manager and a couple guys from the service side (including S B, of course). We hit an English pub (Pig and Whistle) for pre-dinner drinks, then went to a place on the riverfront for dinner. One glance at the menu, and I knew what I'd have: Kangaroo steak. It turned out to taste a bit like lamb, with the texture a bit like beef, though actually not tasting or feeling like either one of those at all. Unusual; totally unlike any meat I'd ever had; pretty good. Also, we had a couple bottles of a local shiraz; also quite good. I was surprised at the wine, since the shiraz's you can get in the states generally suck. [i]Of course[/i] they keep all the good stuff to themselves! For some reason, I comented on drinking with the Russians, and M M (dealership manager) seems to have taken it as a personal challenge (he's Irish-Australian. I should have expected it...). So, we went pub-hopping until one of the guys had to leave, and I made my not-so-subtle escape. Fortunately, I was really close to the hotel, and made it back without problem, and into bed to sleep things off.
Friday morning, I wake up to realize that I forgot to set my alarm clock (I'd been using the mobile phone's alarm, but had sent that to Melbourne to meet a colleague who was just starting a business trip) so had slept away basically all the time I had meant to spend checking out the areas around town. Still, after packing, I did manage to drive out west a bit to Mount Coot-tha Forest. Driving through the windy mountain (not really, but they don't have much in the way of real mountains on that continent) roads without seeing another car was a pretty cool wrap-up for my first trip.
Rental car returned without hassle, got checked into the airport and started the way home.
Two interesting notes about the trip:
- the Air New Zealand flights were not very good. I'd have to put them right next to Delta on my 'least-favorites' list.
- It was still light out when we landed in Aukland. Stunning would not be an inappropriate description of the parts I saw of the north island. Of course, the south island is supposedly much better. A and I have to find a way toget down here and check this place out.
Anyway - home now. I'm not travelling again (large-scale at least) until early '05. This'll probably go mostly dormant until then. In the interim, Happy Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year.
So.
I figured on waiting to post my wrap-up until my computer was repaired. HA! I'm going to be on this 'loaner' until next week at least; I need to get this into writing before it gets too fuzzy. Pics are on my computer and will therefore have to wait a bit longer.
The last couple of days in Brisbane were entertaining -- though I did discover that I appear to be allergic to the detergent used by the hotel on bedsheets (itch, itch, itch). I headed back over to the dealership in Rocklea for some test-driving to experience a problem we're seeing every once in a while with a harmonic excitation of the front ends of our trucks, which makes them hop up and down (though not actually off the ground) at between 80 and 85 kph. All in all, not a bad day, hanging out with the vice president of the company which owns our Aussie distributorship in teh morning, then with mechanics in the shop all afternoon. Plus, on my way past the prison -- as the only place to see roos, it's become a regular stop on my way back from Wacol every evening -- I got to see a kangaroo hop right in front of my car; almost hit the stupid thing and put all that pain and effort getting the car fixed to waste! Still, neat to see one really cruise.
Dinner was with the main dealership's manager and a couple guys from the service side (including S B, of course). We hit an English pub (Pig and Whistle) for pre-dinner drinks, then went to a place on the riverfront for dinner. One glance at the menu, and I knew what I'd have: Kangaroo steak. It turned out to taste a bit like lamb, with the texture a bit like beef, though actually not tasting or feeling like either one of those at all. Unusual; totally unlike any meat I'd ever had; pretty good. Also, we had a couple bottles of a local shiraz; also quite good. I was surprised at the wine, since the shiraz's you can get in the states generally suck. [i]Of course[/i] they keep all the good stuff to themselves! For some reason, I comented on drinking with the Russians, and M M (dealership manager) seems to have taken it as a personal challenge (he's Irish-Australian. I should have expected it...). So, we went pub-hopping until one of the guys had to leave, and I made my not-so-subtle escape. Fortunately, I was really close to the hotel, and made it back without problem, and into bed to sleep things off.
Friday morning, I wake up to realize that I forgot to set my alarm clock (I'd been using the mobile phone's alarm, but had sent that to Melbourne to meet a colleague who was just starting a business trip) so had slept away basically all the time I had meant to spend checking out the areas around town. Still, after packing, I did manage to drive out west a bit to Mount Coot-tha Forest. Driving through the windy mountain (not really, but they don't have much in the way of real mountains on that continent) roads without seeing another car was a pretty cool wrap-up for my first trip.
Rental car returned without hassle, got checked into the airport and started the way home.
Two interesting notes about the trip:
- the Air New Zealand flights were not very good. I'd have to put them right next to Delta on my 'least-favorites' list.
- It was still light out when we landed in Aukland. Stunning would not be an inappropriate description of the parts I saw of the north island. Of course, the south island is supposedly much better. A and I have to find a way toget down here and check this place out.
Anyway - home now. I'm not travelling again (large-scale at least) until early '05. This'll probably go mostly dormant until then. In the interim, Happy Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year.
Сентябрь 08, 2004
Due to Technical Difficulties
9/9 8:46 Brisbane time
You may have noticed a lack of posts on my part over the last couple of days. Not to worry; am still maintaining a safe distance from the various deadly (though fuzzy) critters of Oz. Simply, almost all of my 'communication with the Northern Hemisphere' gear has crapped out in some way or another. My laptop, as of two days ago, refuses to turn on (I'm posting here from S B's office computer...); and similarly, my Blackberry email gizmo works only sporadically -- due, I suspect, to an AT&T incompatibility with the local Telstra network, since the guys here who have Telstra-issued gizmos have no difficulties whatsoever.
Suffice to say, this will likely be my last post until I get home and get my computer difficulties solved. Of particular concern is the fifty-to-one-hundred dollars of negotiated expenses I accrued in Russia and Bangkok, for which I have (of course) no receipt, and the only records of which are locked in my non-operational laptop. Grr.
Anyway, for a brief highlight-tpe update, yesterday I went to th biggest acual dealership in the country (S B's operation is a distributor, rather than a dealer -- the distinction being a fairly fine one), then met for lunch with one of the biggest customers in the region. Mainly we talked politics, as they relate to our business. One major similarity between here and the States becomes apparent fairly quickly: the bulk of the oppressive legisation around here comes about through a process of a few high-profile incidents which are rallied about by the politically powerful for motives of their own to whip the sheeple into enough of a frenzy for easy passage of resolutions furthering the privelege of the already powerful. Trucking around here has a particularly hard time of it, since the fairly weak (in a business, as well as a 'fit-for-the-market' sense) rail industry has a near lock on political connections. Add to this a couple of accidents a month or so back involving heavy truck versus passenger vehicle (in at least one of which, the fault -- as it turned out -- lay firmly with the stoned-to-the-eyeballs bus driver) hyped by the politically powerful, and truckies in Oz are at the point now where they are in significant danger of being regulated out of existence. The customer muttered about stirrings (in this state at least) or a general strike among truckies.
You may have noticed a lack of posts on my part over the last couple of days. Not to worry; am still maintaining a safe distance from the various deadly (though fuzzy) critters of Oz. Simply, almost all of my 'communication with the Northern Hemisphere' gear has crapped out in some way or another. My laptop, as of two days ago, refuses to turn on (I'm posting here from S B's office computer...); and similarly, my Blackberry email gizmo works only sporadically -- due, I suspect, to an AT&T incompatibility with the local Telstra network, since the guys here who have Telstra-issued gizmos have no difficulties whatsoever.
Suffice to say, this will likely be my last post until I get home and get my computer difficulties solved. Of particular concern is the fifty-to-one-hundred dollars of negotiated expenses I accrued in Russia and Bangkok, for which I have (of course) no receipt, and the only records of which are locked in my non-operational laptop. Grr.
Anyway, for a brief highlight-tpe update, yesterday I went to th biggest acual dealership in the country (S B's operation is a distributor, rather than a dealer -- the distinction being a fairly fine one), then met for lunch with one of the biggest customers in the region. Mainly we talked politics, as they relate to our business. One major similarity between here and the States becomes apparent fairly quickly: the bulk of the oppressive legisation around here comes about through a process of a few high-profile incidents which are rallied about by the politically powerful for motives of their own to whip the sheeple into enough of a frenzy for easy passage of resolutions furthering the privelege of the already powerful. Trucking around here has a particularly hard time of it, since the fairly weak (in a business, as well as a 'fit-for-the-market' sense) rail industry has a near lock on political connections. Add to this a couple of accidents a month or so back involving heavy truck versus passenger vehicle (in at least one of which, the fault -- as it turned out -- lay firmly with the stoned-to-the-eyeballs bus driver) hyped by the politically powerful, and truckies in Oz are at the point now where they are in significant danger of being regulated out of existence. The customer muttered about stirrings (in this state at least) or a general strike among truckies.
Сентябрь 06, 2004
The Deadly Roo!
9/7 10:41 Brisbane time
I saw kangaroos yesterday! Turns out, the best place to see them in town is on the grassy paddocks surrounding the prison complexes just outside Wacol. I was complaining yesterday on our way to lunch about the lack of native mammals, when S B (service manager here) said ‘look out your window’. Fifty or so roos sat sunning themselves less than a hundred yards away. I couldn’t stand it after work, and went back to the area, hopped the small (non-prison) fence and started walking over to get closer shots. I got a good series, and got within ten yards of one big one who didn’t seem inclined to run away. One of the big lies they tell in the US about Australia is how cute and fuzzy the animals are. I’ve had at least four Aussies tell me, independently, to watch out for roos. They all used the same phrase to describe the consequences of a roo-human encounter: “kick the shit out of you”. Apparently, a roo can stand better than two meters tall (not including tail), and is all muscle on the lower half. An angry one will balance on his tail, grab you with his front limbs, and disembowel you with quick kicks and his four-inch-long rear claws. They say that if you hit a roo with your car, even if it seems dead, you should most certainly not get out to look at it; it may be dazed, and it will most certainly “kick the shit out of you” if it wakes up. What’s more, unlike hitting a deer, which will tag your bumper and flip over your car, a roo can be in mid-jump when you hit it and go straight through your windscreen – and will most certainly not be killed. In such an occasion, the highway authorities (as well as basic common sense) indicate that you should immediately pull over and bail out of the car, or the roo will (one more time now...) kick the shit out of you. People are actually killed this way...
Regardless, the point of this tangent is that, once I realized this particular roo didn’t mind at all if I came closer, I started to get a bit nervous and decided that one last photo would do it, before scooting back to the safety of my car.
As luck would have it, unfortunately, all of these photos are going to have to wait until I get home as I am unable to post them from hotel or office out here. Now, all I have to do is see a koala – which, I am told, spends its days getting stoned in the trees and sleeping it off, but can seriously mess up any dog stupid enough to tangle with it on the ground.
I saw kangaroos yesterday! Turns out, the best place to see them in town is on the grassy paddocks surrounding the prison complexes just outside Wacol. I was complaining yesterday on our way to lunch about the lack of native mammals, when S B (service manager here) said ‘look out your window’. Fifty or so roos sat sunning themselves less than a hundred yards away. I couldn’t stand it after work, and went back to the area, hopped the small (non-prison) fence and started walking over to get closer shots. I got a good series, and got within ten yards of one big one who didn’t seem inclined to run away. One of the big lies they tell in the US about Australia is how cute and fuzzy the animals are. I’ve had at least four Aussies tell me, independently, to watch out for roos. They all used the same phrase to describe the consequences of a roo-human encounter: “kick the shit out of you”. Apparently, a roo can stand better than two meters tall (not including tail), and is all muscle on the lower half. An angry one will balance on his tail, grab you with his front limbs, and disembowel you with quick kicks and his four-inch-long rear claws. They say that if you hit a roo with your car, even if it seems dead, you should most certainly not get out to look at it; it may be dazed, and it will most certainly “kick the shit out of you” if it wakes up. What’s more, unlike hitting a deer, which will tag your bumper and flip over your car, a roo can be in mid-jump when you hit it and go straight through your windscreen – and will most certainly not be killed. In such an occasion, the highway authorities (as well as basic common sense) indicate that you should immediately pull over and bail out of the car, or the roo will (one more time now...) kick the shit out of you. People are actually killed this way...
Regardless, the point of this tangent is that, once I realized this particular roo didn’t mind at all if I came closer, I started to get a bit nervous and decided that one last photo would do it, before scooting back to the safety of my car.
As luck would have it, unfortunately, all of these photos are going to have to wait until I get home as I am unable to post them from hotel or office out here. Now, all I have to do is see a koala – which, I am told, spends its days getting stoned in the trees and sleeping it off, but can seriously mess up any dog stupid enough to tangle with it on the ground.
Сентябрь 04, 2004
The Wildlife
9/5 17:25 Brisbane time
Well now, that was exciting. I decided to just sort of have a leisurely way down the coast back to Brisbane, making sure to hit the park I had been hearing about at Noosa Heads. For breakfast, I stopped at a feed joint (with a sign outside advertising specials on pet food – beef, pig, chicken innards, and roo meat among the choices) and had a ‘sausage roll’ – exactly as it sound – before starting southwards. The drive down there was long, but moderately interesting. Out here on the coast there appears to be a weird mix of tropical and desert plants, peacefully coexisting. The day was bright (until just now, when a lightning storm seems to have rolled into Brisbane while I was in the shower) warm, and clear. Being under the ozone holes as they are here, that doesn’t necessarily translate into ‘pleasant’ for the locals, but still, what a winter! Chatting with the clerk at the feed joint, I mentioned the agenda of my destinations this past trip; he said, “Russia, eh? Check out the headlines,” gesturing to some newspapers. Suffice to say (as I’m sure you all know) the hostage situation just starting as I was preparing to leave Moscow ended less than well. Crap. Likely, I was one of the last people to know, since I’d been missing the news completely since that morning when I left. Needless to say, A has been expressing, daily (or as often as I can call her), her appreciation that I left when I did. How’s the next trip going to be? Assuming, of course, this latest of a 250-or-so-year-long string of flare-ups hasn’t tapered off by then...
Anyway, after some mishap regarding road signage, which led me to an amazing stretch of beach (one of many around here, as I came to find out), I got to the Noosa Heads Park. The road leading up has a bunch of koala-bear-bearing signs warning drivers to be careful – presumably to avoid squishing them like so many large possums (or tiny kangaroos, I suppose...). Then, the entrance to the park has a bronze, life-size (I presume. Read on) koala statue, with outstretched paw which people seem to enjoy keeping filled with relatively fresh eucalyptus branches. Guess what I didn’t see any of during my entire 6-mile, 2 hour hike? Native mammals (with the exception of the hairless-ape-type), of course! What a rip-off. On the other hand, I saw more than a couple monitor lizards; one of which was in the neighborhood of a meter point five long. I got a shot of him, then scared him off. Also, I saw what I must presume is the local buzzard / trash bird. It certainly has the characteristic bald head, and a neat yellow band around its neck. Mainly what I saw in the park, though, was costal scenery. Again; I have pics and will post as soon as convenient.
The drive home was fairly uneventful. Gas here costs a fair bit more than back home. 97 cents Aussie a liter is a good average, which works out to better than three bucks US a gallon, I think. Their calling the currency here a ‘dollar’ is really screwing me up, as I do not instinctively convert prices in my head. Likely, this trip is going to be less expensive than I think it is right now.
As for the car issue. I realized on the drive back that I am spending the week working with a truck dealer that deals in steel cabbed vehicles. Since the paint is undamaged, there’s a fair chance I could get the dealer manager to spot me some repairs. Wouldn’t that be awesome? I may surrender a bottle of souvenir vodka (price: approx one dollar US; don’t tell him that...) out of my stash of six in appreciation.
BOOM! What a lightning storm this is! BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!!! It’s better than 20 miles away, by my count, but lights up simply everything, flashing up to five times in rapid succession. Sleeping tonight should be no problem whatsoever – with the sounds of my yoot to keep me company.
As for Oz itself, I’d have to say this is the most nearly-American socialist country I’ve been in. One can’t help but notice the propaganda everywhere (my favorite so far: “The Federal Highway Department: keeping you moving safely along”). Non-voting is illegal here, and election season is coming up, so one also gets to hear on the radio fairly regularly ads featuring happy voices reminding you to register to vote before the deadline. In fact, nearly half of the ads one hears are related to some sort of state function/subset. I’ll get a better fix on the people themselves after spending a few days in their company. What’s strange is that this place is in some ways a lot more like the US than is neighboring Canada.
I should also note, for anyone who’s emailed me in the past few days, that I have only been able to get to my emails via gizmo, not computer, and the gizmo doesn’t actually delete emails; only moves them to the deleted folder. The practical result of this is that my personal chunk of The Company server get full to the point that I lose the ability to send emails out. I reached this point sometime in Bangkok. I’m still reading and thinking about the stuff you’ve sent, just not able to respond.
Well now, that was exciting. I decided to just sort of have a leisurely way down the coast back to Brisbane, making sure to hit the park I had been hearing about at Noosa Heads. For breakfast, I stopped at a feed joint (with a sign outside advertising specials on pet food – beef, pig, chicken innards, and roo meat among the choices) and had a ‘sausage roll’ – exactly as it sound – before starting southwards. The drive down there was long, but moderately interesting. Out here on the coast there appears to be a weird mix of tropical and desert plants, peacefully coexisting. The day was bright (until just now, when a lightning storm seems to have rolled into Brisbane while I was in the shower) warm, and clear. Being under the ozone holes as they are here, that doesn’t necessarily translate into ‘pleasant’ for the locals, but still, what a winter! Chatting with the clerk at the feed joint, I mentioned the agenda of my destinations this past trip; he said, “Russia, eh? Check out the headlines,” gesturing to some newspapers. Suffice to say (as I’m sure you all know) the hostage situation just starting as I was preparing to leave Moscow ended less than well. Crap. Likely, I was one of the last people to know, since I’d been missing the news completely since that morning when I left. Needless to say, A has been expressing, daily (or as often as I can call her), her appreciation that I left when I did. How’s the next trip going to be? Assuming, of course, this latest of a 250-or-so-year-long string of flare-ups hasn’t tapered off by then...
Anyway, after some mishap regarding road signage, which led me to an amazing stretch of beach (one of many around here, as I came to find out), I got to the Noosa Heads Park. The road leading up has a bunch of koala-bear-bearing signs warning drivers to be careful – presumably to avoid squishing them like so many large possums (or tiny kangaroos, I suppose...). Then, the entrance to the park has a bronze, life-size (I presume. Read on) koala statue, with outstretched paw which people seem to enjoy keeping filled with relatively fresh eucalyptus branches. Guess what I didn’t see any of during my entire 6-mile, 2 hour hike? Native mammals (with the exception of the hairless-ape-type), of course! What a rip-off. On the other hand, I saw more than a couple monitor lizards; one of which was in the neighborhood of a meter point five long. I got a shot of him, then scared him off. Also, I saw what I must presume is the local buzzard / trash bird. It certainly has the characteristic bald head, and a neat yellow band around its neck. Mainly what I saw in the park, though, was costal scenery. Again; I have pics and will post as soon as convenient.
The drive home was fairly uneventful. Gas here costs a fair bit more than back home. 97 cents Aussie a liter is a good average, which works out to better than three bucks US a gallon, I think. Their calling the currency here a ‘dollar’ is really screwing me up, as I do not instinctively convert prices in my head. Likely, this trip is going to be less expensive than I think it is right now.
As for the car issue. I realized on the drive back that I am spending the week working with a truck dealer that deals in steel cabbed vehicles. Since the paint is undamaged, there’s a fair chance I could get the dealer manager to spot me some repairs. Wouldn’t that be awesome? I may surrender a bottle of souvenir vodka (price: approx one dollar US; don’t tell him that...) out of my stash of six in appreciation.
BOOM! What a lightning storm this is! BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!!! It’s better than 20 miles away, by my count, but lights up simply everything, flashing up to five times in rapid succession. Sleeping tonight should be no problem whatsoever – with the sounds of my yoot to keep me company.
As for Oz itself, I’d have to say this is the most nearly-American socialist country I’ve been in. One can’t help but notice the propaganda everywhere (my favorite so far: “The Federal Highway Department: keeping you moving safely along”). Non-voting is illegal here, and election season is coming up, so one also gets to hear on the radio fairly regularly ads featuring happy voices reminding you to register to vote before the deadline. In fact, nearly half of the ads one hears are related to some sort of state function/subset. I’ll get a better fix on the people themselves after spending a few days in their company. What’s strange is that this place is in some ways a lot more like the US than is neighboring Canada.
I should also note, for anyone who’s emailed me in the past few days, that I have only been able to get to my emails via gizmo, not computer, and the gizmo doesn’t actually delete emails; only moves them to the deleted folder. The practical result of this is that my personal chunk of The Company server get full to the point that I lose the ability to send emails out. I reached this point sometime in Bangkok. I’m still reading and thinking about the stuff you’ve sent, just not able to respond.
Oz
9/4 20:06 Maryborough time
So.
Where is Marybough, you ask? I’ll get to that (no peeking at the bottom!) in the course of this one. It may be long; be sure you haven’t left the stove on or the water running...
I got impatient (surprise) before the taxi guy from the other day’s scheduled time to pick me up came around; so I called the mobile number he left me. Sorry to say, he replies, not only is he unable to pick me up early, but he will be in a meeting for most of the rest of the afternoon. Disheartened, I went out to the front of the hotel to have one of the bellhops grab me a [sure to be more expensive, of course] taxi. The first one they look inside, then wave off immediately. The second they chat with before waving him off. I comment that I’m willing to go as high as 500 baht – the original deal with the taxi guy who was no longer coming, and a seemingly good bargaining starting point. They get this shocked look on their faces and say, “500 baht – too much. You paid 500 baht to get here?” Sadly, I paid 550, down from the 800 originally asked. I ask then, how much it should cost, they say that the metered taxis run between 200 and 300 for the airport run, and that they are sending away taxis with ‘broken’ meters who cheat people. What a retard I am...
So, finally after a couple more tries, a totally legit taxi arrives and we leave for the airport. Hopping up onto the elevated highway, we get maybe one exit away from the hotel, when we come to cops of some sort waving all the traffic off onto a shunt. Then we stop. The taxi driver mutters something. Already having ascertained that he speaks almost no english at all, I still try to ask what is up by pointing and various grunting noises (G would be so proud). He says to me, after pondering the correct words for a bit, “King. Car. Road”. This was confimed some five minutes later, when a motorcade of semi-identical armored sedans goes blazing past with full police escort. Cool. So that was the king of Thailand[‘s car]. Then the rest of the way to the airport. Passing through was no problem whatsoever. Paid the 500 baht ‘airport surcharge’ and basically onto my plane.
Flight to Singapore was not too long. I have decided, however, that Singapore Airlines’ business class rules. Not only do you have a personal video monitor, but it is put to meaningful use by filtering Nintendo video games through it, interfaced with a controller plugged into your armrest. Excellent.
The flight from Singapore to Brisbane was more of the same. I sat next to a Brisbane-area native, who advised me of all sorts of great stuff to do, which I filtered down to fit my available time into: Drive into the Outback a little bit, then check out Frazer Island. Plane landed, cleared customs and quarantine, and got my car, a RHD Ford Falcon, silver. Loaded my stuff in, found the hotel I’d been reserved into, and pushed my check-in date back by one day. Then I went out and picked up a sim card for my mobile, and headed out roughly west. I stopped after just over an hour in the town of Toowoomba at a tourist info booth. Turns out, I was still some seven hours away from the Outback. Pretty much I’d have farm and ranch country like I’d already been driving through the whole way out. I was assured, however, that the hotels near Frazer would be easy to get into this time of year. So, Outback gets bumped off the list. I decided on a return route that would put me into the town of Heney Bay, where the island access is located. The drive was decent, except that partway in, my body decided it was going to be on home time, and that it was way past my bedtime. So, a large caffeinated beverage later, I continued on my way. Through the wilder part of the mountains, it started torrential raining. The sticks they have along the sides of the road, serving the same function as do the similarly located sticks in snowy areas, indicated that some parts of the road I drove over were under 10cm of water. Still, it kept me good and alert.
Finally, it started to get dark, and midway up the last stretch of highway to Heney Bay, full night fell. Then plan at that point was: find a hotel, then find dinner, then sleep, then get on the passenger ferry to the island the next morning. Every hotel I checked out was full. Then, steering through a parking lot, I neglected to correct for the non-turning rear end’s cutting of corners, and the fact that it behave oppositely when you are on the opposite side of the car, and scraped the passenger along a chainlink fence post stuck in a concrete block. Then, I realized the rear, left (that’s passenger, of course) tire was torn through. Changing the tire for the spare (thankfully, a full replacement for the one that was on the car...), I also noticed that the chainlink had dimpled the door panel without damaging the paint. To make matters really interesting, it turned out that all the shops in Heney had closed on Saturday at 1PM, and that there was no way they’d be open on Sunday. So, I drove back down the coast some 50km to the similarly-sized town of Marybough. Found a roach hotel (68Aus$/night) and a mechanic that had an off-hours number who came out and replaced the punctured tire. Now I’m in my roach hotel room, trying to figure out the plan for tomorrow.
Oh yeah, and the passenger ferry is only a whale-watching trip. Can’t go to the island without some mean of personal transportation. at least bicycle level or higher. I’ll think, however after I get some sleep.
So.
Where is Marybough, you ask? I’ll get to that (no peeking at the bottom!) in the course of this one. It may be long; be sure you haven’t left the stove on or the water running...
I got impatient (surprise) before the taxi guy from the other day’s scheduled time to pick me up came around; so I called the mobile number he left me. Sorry to say, he replies, not only is he unable to pick me up early, but he will be in a meeting for most of the rest of the afternoon. Disheartened, I went out to the front of the hotel to have one of the bellhops grab me a [sure to be more expensive, of course] taxi. The first one they look inside, then wave off immediately. The second they chat with before waving him off. I comment that I’m willing to go as high as 500 baht – the original deal with the taxi guy who was no longer coming, and a seemingly good bargaining starting point. They get this shocked look on their faces and say, “500 baht – too much. You paid 500 baht to get here?” Sadly, I paid 550, down from the 800 originally asked. I ask then, how much it should cost, they say that the metered taxis run between 200 and 300 for the airport run, and that they are sending away taxis with ‘broken’ meters who cheat people. What a retard I am...
So, finally after a couple more tries, a totally legit taxi arrives and we leave for the airport. Hopping up onto the elevated highway, we get maybe one exit away from the hotel, when we come to cops of some sort waving all the traffic off onto a shunt. Then we stop. The taxi driver mutters something. Already having ascertained that he speaks almost no english at all, I still try to ask what is up by pointing and various grunting noises (G would be so proud). He says to me, after pondering the correct words for a bit, “King. Car. Road”. This was confimed some five minutes later, when a motorcade of semi-identical armored sedans goes blazing past with full police escort. Cool. So that was the king of Thailand[‘s car]. Then the rest of the way to the airport. Passing through was no problem whatsoever. Paid the 500 baht ‘airport surcharge’ and basically onto my plane.
Flight to Singapore was not too long. I have decided, however, that Singapore Airlines’ business class rules. Not only do you have a personal video monitor, but it is put to meaningful use by filtering Nintendo video games through it, interfaced with a controller plugged into your armrest. Excellent.
The flight from Singapore to Brisbane was more of the same. I sat next to a Brisbane-area native, who advised me of all sorts of great stuff to do, which I filtered down to fit my available time into: Drive into the Outback a little bit, then check out Frazer Island. Plane landed, cleared customs and quarantine, and got my car, a RHD Ford Falcon, silver. Loaded my stuff in, found the hotel I’d been reserved into, and pushed my check-in date back by one day. Then I went out and picked up a sim card for my mobile, and headed out roughly west. I stopped after just over an hour in the town of Toowoomba at a tourist info booth. Turns out, I was still some seven hours away from the Outback. Pretty much I’d have farm and ranch country like I’d already been driving through the whole way out. I was assured, however, that the hotels near Frazer would be easy to get into this time of year. So, Outback gets bumped off the list. I decided on a return route that would put me into the town of Heney Bay, where the island access is located. The drive was decent, except that partway in, my body decided it was going to be on home time, and that it was way past my bedtime. So, a large caffeinated beverage later, I continued on my way. Through the wilder part of the mountains, it started torrential raining. The sticks they have along the sides of the road, serving the same function as do the similarly located sticks in snowy areas, indicated that some parts of the road I drove over were under 10cm of water. Still, it kept me good and alert.
Finally, it started to get dark, and midway up the last stretch of highway to Heney Bay, full night fell. Then plan at that point was: find a hotel, then find dinner, then sleep, then get on the passenger ferry to the island the next morning. Every hotel I checked out was full. Then, steering through a parking lot, I neglected to correct for the non-turning rear end’s cutting of corners, and the fact that it behave oppositely when you are on the opposite side of the car, and scraped the passenger along a chainlink fence post stuck in a concrete block. Then, I realized the rear, left (that’s passenger, of course) tire was torn through. Changing the tire for the spare (thankfully, a full replacement for the one that was on the car...), I also noticed that the chainlink had dimpled the door panel without damaging the paint. To make matters really interesting, it turned out that all the shops in Heney had closed on Saturday at 1PM, and that there was no way they’d be open on Sunday. So, I drove back down the coast some 50km to the similarly-sized town of Marybough. Found a roach hotel (68Aus$/night) and a mechanic that had an off-hours number who came out and replaced the punctured tire. Now I’m in my roach hotel room, trying to figure out the plan for tomorrow.
Oh yeah, and the passenger ferry is only a whale-watching trip. Can’t go to the island without some mean of personal transportation. at least bicycle level or higher. I’ll think, however after I get some sleep.
Сентябрь 02, 2004
Bangkok by TukTuk
9/3 12:42 Bangkok time
Just returned from my Great Thai Adventure. My original plan to go to the Wat Phra Kew (Waht Prah Kyow) was dashed almost immediately wen the driver I got informed me that the temple would be closed to the public until 2PM as the monks were preparing some sort of ceremonial stuff. So, with him, I checked out some of the other stuff in the city, travelling by tuktuk (tooktook), a type of three-wheeled golfcart looking device. Suffice to say, it was well worth the five dollars it cost me total in travel expenses. I got pictures; I'll post them most likely from Brisbane.
On the other hand, I accumulated today at least two "A will kill me" experiences. Possibly a third. First, apparently tuktuk drivers get kickbacks fronm the local shops if their passengers buy stuff. So, we kept stopping at shops. One of which had the replacement belt I needed (stingray skin, very tough stuff, should outlast my last two belts combined. Not as cheap as it should have been...). Another place cost me about $70 for an item about which I cannot post details as A is reading this as well. And the final place (for which I am not certain to be in danger) was a fabric store. I would have bought this neat-looking color-shiftig green/blue Thai silk there, if I had known whether $12/meter was particularly cheap (for two-ply). It seemed cheap, but since you need at least three yards to do anything worthwhile, and since I'd already spent a fair bit more than I had intended, I declined to buy. Knowing A, I might be in more trouble for that non-purchase than for the two things I did get...
Tam, my taxi driver from the other day, is going to be waiting for me in the lobby at three. I'm taking off now to get a quick shower and get packing and a bit of lunch before I leave for my final pre-home destination.
This place has certainly been interesting.
Just returned from my Great Thai Adventure. My original plan to go to the Wat Phra Kew (Waht Prah Kyow) was dashed almost immediately wen the driver I got informed me that the temple would be closed to the public until 2PM as the monks were preparing some sort of ceremonial stuff. So, with him, I checked out some of the other stuff in the city, travelling by tuktuk (tooktook), a type of three-wheeled golfcart looking device. Suffice to say, it was well worth the five dollars it cost me total in travel expenses. I got pictures; I'll post them most likely from Brisbane.
On the other hand, I accumulated today at least two "A will kill me" experiences. Possibly a third. First, apparently tuktuk drivers get kickbacks fronm the local shops if their passengers buy stuff. So, we kept stopping at shops. One of which had the replacement belt I needed (stingray skin, very tough stuff, should outlast my last two belts combined. Not as cheap as it should have been...). Another place cost me about $70 for an item about which I cannot post details as A is reading this as well. And the final place (for which I am not certain to be in danger) was a fabric store. I would have bought this neat-looking color-shiftig green/blue Thai silk there, if I had known whether $12/meter was particularly cheap (for two-ply). It seemed cheap, but since you need at least three yards to do anything worthwhile, and since I'd already spent a fair bit more than I had intended, I declined to buy. Knowing A, I might be in more trouble for that non-purchase than for the two things I did get...
Tam, my taxi driver from the other day, is going to be waiting for me in the lobby at three. I'm taking off now to get a quick shower and get packing and a bit of lunch before I leave for my final pre-home destination.
This place has certainly been interesting.
Wat Pathum Wanaram
The view from my 16th-floor window in Bangkok
Some monument or another in Vienna
Garden park in Vienna
The Sweaty East
9/2 19:00 Bangkok time
So, here I am. First impression? If anyone, ever again complains to me in Portland how hot and/or muggy it is, I am giving them a swift kick in the nuts. And another.
I just got back from a fairly interesting 1-hour stroll around the parts of Bangkok near my hotel (the JW Mariott, Sukhuvit region, Soi Sam). Lot of neat stuff; some pictures (for posting later on this evening -- I'll get to that in a second); and a complete soaking of everything I was wearing in my own stanky-ass sweat. To the point that my t-shirt, when I took it off a couple of minutes ago to hop in the shower, was acually dripping. I wasn't planning on doing laundry in Brisbane, but after this place I'm going to have at least two sets of clothes completely unwearable. Pity the poor person sitting next to me on the loong plane trips.
As for Bangkok? It's a big southeast Asian city. Not hilly, like some, but full of much of the same stuff (to my eye, at least). The main difference I notice is that they appear to still have a functioning monarch, whose pictures are stuck up everywhere, and to whom not a few shrines are erected throughout the city. Other main difference is the pointy temples. I went to the nearest one this afternoon, and took some shots, but I'm going to a much better one tomorrow.
The really interesting happening since the last post began on the ride down here. The guy next to me turned out to be a 35-year old Libyan businessman. We chatted for quite a bit on the way down. Khalid mentioned, as we were talking respective shops, that he had colleagues involved in vehicle and equipment sales in Libya. Knowing that The Company was drooling the day the embargo on Libya was lifted, but that the travel and business restrictions meant they had no contacts out that way, I gave him a small stack of my business cards. Maybe it'll turn out to be nothing, but we do have a guy in the Middle East who can check these contacts out. Wouldn't that be something?
Regardless, the plans for now are to get dressed again and leave my nice, chilled hotel room for whatever nearest food-getting establishment I can find. Pictures after that.
So, here I am. First impression? If anyone, ever again complains to me in Portland how hot and/or muggy it is, I am giving them a swift kick in the nuts. And another.
I just got back from a fairly interesting 1-hour stroll around the parts of Bangkok near my hotel (the JW Mariott, Sukhuvit region, Soi Sam). Lot of neat stuff; some pictures (for posting later on this evening -- I'll get to that in a second); and a complete soaking of everything I was wearing in my own stanky-ass sweat. To the point that my t-shirt, when I took it off a couple of minutes ago to hop in the shower, was acually dripping. I wasn't planning on doing laundry in Brisbane, but after this place I'm going to have at least two sets of clothes completely unwearable. Pity the poor person sitting next to me on the loong plane trips.
As for Bangkok? It's a big southeast Asian city. Not hilly, like some, but full of much of the same stuff (to my eye, at least). The main difference I notice is that they appear to still have a functioning monarch, whose pictures are stuck up everywhere, and to whom not a few shrines are erected throughout the city. Other main difference is the pointy temples. I went to the nearest one this afternoon, and took some shots, but I'm going to a much better one tomorrow.
The really interesting happening since the last post began on the ride down here. The guy next to me turned out to be a 35-year old Libyan businessman. We chatted for quite a bit on the way down. Khalid mentioned, as we were talking respective shops, that he had colleagues involved in vehicle and equipment sales in Libya. Knowing that The Company was drooling the day the embargo on Libya was lifted, but that the travel and business restrictions meant they had no contacts out that way, I gave him a small stack of my business cards. Maybe it'll turn out to be nothing, but we do have a guy in the Middle East who can check these contacts out. Wouldn't that be something?
Regardless, the plans for now are to get dressed again and leave my nice, chilled hotel room for whatever nearest food-getting establishment I can find. Pictures after that.
Сентябрь 01, 2004
An unexpected surprise
9/1 19:02 Vienna(!) time
So, I was wrong about when I’d be getting back to you. I’m stopped over in Vienna from 5PM to 11PM local time, so I figured, why not drain the batteries a bit?
The flight out of Moscow was phenomenal. Not the airplane, particularly, but the experience. Sheremetevo 2 (the international airport) is just as painful leaving as arriving, but I got to enjoy the heck out of my waiting-in-line time by conversing with an old russian woman who had lived in Israel for thirty years, moved back to Peterburg where she was born in 2000, and was going out on an El Al flight to Tel Aviv to visit a brand-new grandkid. The cool part? She spoke some english, but we decided shortly into our hour-long wait-in-line that we’d do better in Russian. It went great! Very, very little communications difficulty. I was stoked.
Then, on the flight over (2.5 hours long), it turned out I was sitting next to the Tajikistani deputy minister of State! I had been wondering, in the airport, why he was getting better-than-first-class treatment... He had been in Moscow for some talks and was heading to Rome. We talked (in Russian, конечно) the whole way out, except when we were feeding our faces, of course. I held my own in this conversation well enough to actually have and receive some meaningful content. I gave him my card; who knows what sort of weirdness could come of that...
Anyway, here I am at a cafe in Vienna, waiting for my Weinerschnitzel and drinking a dark beer that is smoother than anything I’ve ever had (sorry, Dechutes Brewery guys, but true is true). It’s too late to go into anything, but I should have an hour or so of daylight left to wander and take semi-random pics of whatever catches my eye. We’ll see what turns up.
Food’s here; gotta go.
So, I was wrong about when I’d be getting back to you. I’m stopped over in Vienna from 5PM to 11PM local time, so I figured, why not drain the batteries a bit?
The flight out of Moscow was phenomenal. Not the airplane, particularly, but the experience. Sheremetevo 2 (the international airport) is just as painful leaving as arriving, but I got to enjoy the heck out of my waiting-in-line time by conversing with an old russian woman who had lived in Israel for thirty years, moved back to Peterburg where she was born in 2000, and was going out on an El Al flight to Tel Aviv to visit a brand-new grandkid. The cool part? She spoke some english, but we decided shortly into our hour-long wait-in-line that we’d do better in Russian. It went great! Very, very little communications difficulty. I was stoked.
Then, on the flight over (2.5 hours long), it turned out I was sitting next to the Tajikistani deputy minister of State! I had been wondering, in the airport, why he was getting better-than-first-class treatment... He had been in Moscow for some talks and was heading to Rome. We talked (in Russian, конечно) the whole way out, except when we were feeding our faces, of course. I held my own in this conversation well enough to actually have and receive some meaningful content. I gave him my card; who knows what sort of weirdness could come of that...
Anyway, here I am at a cafe in Vienna, waiting for my Weinerschnitzel and drinking a dark beer that is smoother than anything I’ve ever had (sorry, Dechutes Brewery guys, but true is true). It’s too late to go into anything, but I should have an hour or so of daylight left to wander and take semi-random pics of whatever catches my eye. We’ll see what turns up.
Food’s here; gotta go.
Wrapup
9/1 11:03 Moscow time
An interesting evening in Moscow, as it turns out. A[nother] bomber blew up a[nother] Metro station. Since I know A will be reading this after I’m already safely away, I don’t mind mentioning that the station that was hit, Рижская (Rizhskaya), I was at for quite a bit on Sunday, as it is right on the way to ВДНХ (I have no idea what it stands for, and it’s pronounced “Veh-deh-en-kha”). A fairly picturesque station. This makes two for two as far as the Metro bombings of which I am aware corresponding to the Metro lines I ride, as the other bombing back in Feb. was at the other end of the city from where I was in June, but on the same green line I rode from Sokol frequently. It’s funny in a way; the boss and I and our service manager currently servicing Africa were talking a couple of weeks ago about seeing on the news some such excitement like a bombing or fire or what have you, and thinking, “Hey! I’ve been there!” It is pretty weird.
Even more. I see on the TASS news feed that in Northern Ossetia -- pretty far south of here; near Chechnya (of course) – gunmen and bombers have siezed control of two schools, are holding hundreds hostage, and are currently fighting a pitched battle with the police. The other day, one of the Russian dealer managers, Н С and I were talking politics. She expressed surprise that the US (regarding Iraq) hasn’t learned from Russia’s bad example (regarding the Chechens). They’ve been fighting counter-insurgency in that area for the past two hundred fifty years. No one expects it to end in their lifetimes, and no one is surprised anymore by stuff like the planes being taken out. She made the comment to me at one point that they were expecting more such incidents in Moscow; that they ‘flare up’ from time to time. They certainly have the experience to make those kind of predictions.
I went looking for keychain/pin souvenir garbage type stuff this morning before I checked out. No luck, but I finally did find a CD with a lot of the music I’ve been listening to on it. The fuzzy hats, stuffed with my t-shirts to keep their shape, along with two trips worth of booze, and a pot of honey (sextuple-wrapped in plastic bags) all fit fairly well into the space no longer occupied by conference-related swag. Since it’s pretty safe to say I won’t be back in Russia for at least a few months, I’ve been making a point to give my regards to all the dealers and other folks. Some comments regarding them:
From Vladivostok, the owner of the dealership, В С, I find out, is the chairman of the city Duma (like a city council). Knowing that additional piece of information, I can begin to understand how the Vladivostok dealership can have such amazing facilities, and particularly how they can add to and/or modify their facilities at such a pace. As С П-ёв told me last time when I was in Khabarovsk, it’s not so much a matter of being wealthy as a matter of who your friends are – though having those type of friends is going to be a good way to get wealthy, too.
From Yekaterinburg, Н С is the official owner of the dealership there. Apparently her family is the connection to the less-than-savory organization that funds these dealerships. She definitely has the look of a Tatar. What’s more, the attendees from her dealership, herself included, were the most casually dressed – wearing jeans while everyone else was in suits and ties.
From Balakovo, А С is a gregarious guy who likes his beer and vodka. He has the same sort of bearing (even when not in his cups) as my mom’s dad. A very good guy to chat with or drink with or both; except that he toasts everything. On the boat, I ran into him near the vodka table. We introduced ourselves, and then we drank “to introductions”. Then we drank “to new business”. Then we drank “To future success”. Then we drank “To Russian vodka”. Then we drank “To the previous four drinks”. I think it could have gone on for a while, but I was able to extricate myself at that point.
My driver should be showing up in a few minutes; I’m going to get to cleaning up my sprawling mess on the hotel cafe table and get ready to head out. I’ll check in again in Bangkok.
Счастливо.
An interesting evening in Moscow, as it turns out. A[nother] bomber blew up a[nother] Metro station. Since I know A will be reading this after I’m already safely away, I don’t mind mentioning that the station that was hit, Рижская (Rizhskaya), I was at for quite a bit on Sunday, as it is right on the way to ВДНХ (I have no idea what it stands for, and it’s pronounced “Veh-deh-en-kha”). A fairly picturesque station. This makes two for two as far as the Metro bombings of which I am aware corresponding to the Metro lines I ride, as the other bombing back in Feb. was at the other end of the city from where I was in June, but on the same green line I rode from Sokol frequently. It’s funny in a way; the boss and I and our service manager currently servicing Africa were talking a couple of weeks ago about seeing on the news some such excitement like a bombing or fire or what have you, and thinking, “Hey! I’ve been there!” It is pretty weird.
Even more. I see on the TASS news feed that in Northern Ossetia -- pretty far south of here; near Chechnya (of course) – gunmen and bombers have siezed control of two schools, are holding hundreds hostage, and are currently fighting a pitched battle with the police. The other day, one of the Russian dealer managers, Н С and I were talking politics. She expressed surprise that the US (regarding Iraq) hasn’t learned from Russia’s bad example (regarding the Chechens). They’ve been fighting counter-insurgency in that area for the past two hundred fifty years. No one expects it to end in their lifetimes, and no one is surprised anymore by stuff like the planes being taken out. She made the comment to me at one point that they were expecting more such incidents in Moscow; that they ‘flare up’ from time to time. They certainly have the experience to make those kind of predictions.
I went looking for keychain/pin souvenir garbage type stuff this morning before I checked out. No luck, but I finally did find a CD with a lot of the music I’ve been listening to on it. The fuzzy hats, stuffed with my t-shirts to keep their shape, along with two trips worth of booze, and a pot of honey (sextuple-wrapped in plastic bags) all fit fairly well into the space no longer occupied by conference-related swag. Since it’s pretty safe to say I won’t be back in Russia for at least a few months, I’ve been making a point to give my regards to all the dealers and other folks. Some comments regarding them:
From Vladivostok, the owner of the dealership, В С, I find out, is the chairman of the city Duma (like a city council). Knowing that additional piece of information, I can begin to understand how the Vladivostok dealership can have such amazing facilities, and particularly how they can add to and/or modify their facilities at such a pace. As С П-ёв told me last time when I was in Khabarovsk, it’s not so much a matter of being wealthy as a matter of who your friends are – though having those type of friends is going to be a good way to get wealthy, too.
From Yekaterinburg, Н С is the official owner of the dealership there. Apparently her family is the connection to the less-than-savory organization that funds these dealerships. She definitely has the look of a Tatar. What’s more, the attendees from her dealership, herself included, were the most casually dressed – wearing jeans while everyone else was in suits and ties.
From Balakovo, А С is a gregarious guy who likes his beer and vodka. He has the same sort of bearing (even when not in his cups) as my mom’s dad. A very good guy to chat with or drink with or both; except that he toasts everything. On the boat, I ran into him near the vodka table. We introduced ourselves, and then we drank “to introductions”. Then we drank “to new business”. Then we drank “To future success”. Then we drank “To Russian vodka”. Then we drank “To the previous four drinks”. I think it could have gone on for a while, but I was able to extricate myself at that point.
My driver should be showing up in a few minutes; I’m going to get to cleaning up my sprawling mess on the hotel cafe table and get ready to head out. I’ll check in again in Bangkok.
Счастливо.
