Monthly Archives: April 2011
A Pleaceful Stay at Tranquil Resort
While in India I visited a great place called Tranquil Resort. It’s set on a 400 acre working coffee, vanilla and pepper plantation, tucked into the hills above a small but busy village of Sultan Bathery. Treehouse huts and more traditional rooms await you, but it’s doubtful you’ll spend much time indoors. 5 hours drive from Bangalore and 2 hours from Mysore.
I found myself hiking up the “Braveheart” trail to the peak of the mountain behind the resort. I was followed by a boxer named Shadow – one of the house dogs. He encourages me along in a friendly way; much less friendly are the winged insects buzzing around, though they do encourage you to move. Local monkeys sat and watched me curiously from a distance in the trees and on the rocks as I awkwardly bent to get a good line of sight through the leaves to take photos. The sun faded in and out behind the clouds. I was certainly happy for the shade; the jungle was hot and wet enough without the sun’s contribution.
Unfortunately I overdid it on the walk. It’s only about 5km but rugged. Someone who’s actually in shape would have been just fine at the pace I was going, but I wasn’t smart enough to slow down to my speed. I moved from “Braveheart” to “Terminator” to “Indiana Jones”. I skipped a route called “Cliffhanger” not because it was harder, but because it was a bad movie. And also because it was hard.
I got back down after about 5 hours walking. It was made harder since I had a touch of “Delhi Belly” and not enough water. I went to my room and changed, then hopped in the pool. Cool and refreshing. Ahhhh. Then to a nice hot shower. Towel off, change clothes and get to lunch. Wonderful morning.
After lunch I went off property to a nature preserve. The resort is only about a half hour from the preserve. I took the trip with a driver in an open jeep. We stopped at the gate long enough to get a guide – required for entry – and continued. We went around inside and almost immediately saw an elephant. But it was a work elephant. The day before on the way to the resort I’d seen another one. This one was not tame and was in fact charging a motorcyclist who’d been taunting it. Good for the elephant! But we hadn’t paused long enough to grab a photo of the beast. In the park I had the opportunity to see lots of spotted deer, sambhar and monkeys, but no tigers. The driver and guide were happy with that but I was a bit disappointed. Se la vie.
My Time in India
In some ways India seems designed to frustrate. To intentionally drive away those who are unfamiliar with its idiosyncrasies.
- The time zone is :30 off of the standard time breaks. This guarantees that no other place will operate on the same time zone and every traveler will have to reset their watch.
- The government of Kerala (South-West India) has called for a strike of government employees in Friday 6a-6p. Makes it hard to do business.
- Locals say you can know your way around unless your family has lived in a place for generations. There may be some truth to that.
- State governments are nearly all either Hindu nationalists or communist. One state bans beef and alcohol, another promotes strikes. In Kerala, for example, there were 86 days of government called strikes last year.
Next time you’re in Bangalore, stop by a restaurant called Bheema’s just off Mahatma Gandhi Road (MG Road for short). Try the deep fried curried hot peppers. That’s the first place I ate in India and it was great. MG Road is one of the main roads through Bangalore and it’s lined with shops. The unfinished metro rail runs down the road, looking like a monorail high above the road. It’s not thought very highly of in the town – for one reason because they decided to go over, rather than under, the streets. Many locals consider that an eyesore and since it’s taken so long to get going they see it as a hassle. Hopefully when it’s done it’s effective at reducing traffic.
Speaking of traffic, I don’t know that there are any traffic laws. The only rule is chaos. People jostle for position if and when they can get through the traffic. Lots of two-wheel and three-wheel vehicles are in use. Most of the two-wheelers have two people on them. Women sit ladylike, sidesaddle. Sounds like the whole situation would be dangerous but the speeds never get above about 30mph so that reduces risk somewhat. Overtaking is quite an undertaking here – there no blinkers, only horns. And if you don’t use yours people are likely to run you down. It’s craziness.
You’ve heard the expression “exit through the gift shop.” That’s the case in Bangalore airport. Bangalore airport security dumps you into a duty free store you have to get through to get to your gate. This seems to be an increasing trend in International airports. Well at least that’s organized.
Haggling Indian Style
I’ve had quite a few haggling sessions with local vendors, cabbies and others. But a technique I saw used in India is different than those I’ve seen elsewhere. It’s pretty effective though.
When hailing an autorickshaw (also called a tuk-tuk) from one Mumbai airport to the other, one of the police officers told me that I shouldn’t pay any more than 100 Rupee – but that the drivers would try to charge more because of time of day. Good information. So I flagged down one of the drivers and he started me off at 150. I countered with 80, he went to 120, but wouldn’t go lower. “Ni-time cost moah.” He continued, “Eet ees not pah-mitted to peeck ahp heeah. Beeg fine.” “Mahch chiper dan taxee.” I went to another driver and he started at 180 INR and gave me the same lines about higher cost for night time and being the wrong area for picking up customers.
I walked away from him too and the first guy came back and told me OK, he’d take me. For 100, I asked? 120. Back to where we left off – that’s not a negotiating technique. So I turned and started to walk away. He said OK 100.
In the vehicle he told me why he wanted more. Night time. Wrong area. Taxis cost 2x. Yeah I got it. A few short minutes later we’re at the other airport. I hopped out and went for my wallet. “Plis sah. 150.” I handed him 100. Again he told me of his woes. Night time. Big fines. He looked at me with big brown eyes. “Plis.”
That’s a similar technique some of my neighbors use when I have them do yard work. We negotiate to a rate I’m happy with, then after they’re done ask for more because it was bigger than they’d thought. I turned away the tuk-tuk driver. I usually give in to my neighbors.
It’s not that I’m a softie for Americans, it’s that the situations are different. I’m never going to see the tuk-tuk guy again. My neighbors know where I live. And a lot of the times they’re looking out for me when I’m not around so it pays to keep them happy. And if I know their tactics I can get to the real rates for things and not get suckered. Well not too bad anyway. And each negotiation becomes a reference point for the next one. “Last time you came back and asked for more – are you going to try that this time?”
Just beware this haggling technique when in India and understand you may get hit up for more after you get what you want.
Arriving in India
Half a world away, across 13.5 time zones, enduring 18-20 hours of flight time and a layover, endured four straight airplane meals, I have arrived. Mumbai. Formerly Bombay. The airport was a good welcome to the country. Hot, sticky, dusty, loud, smelly, crowded, and chaotic.
As someone told me before I left, India is an assault to the 5 senses. That’s not always a bad thing – sometimes the combat does you well. For example, the smells of a very spicy curry wafting from a roadside stand. Or the overpowering taste of some new and unknown fruit. Or the shocking blast of air conditioning upon stepping out of the sweltering heat. Yes, India is a land where your senses will be overwhelmed. The whole country seems to live like that, going from one extreme to another.
India’s clash between its history and its future is also a contrast. In many ways it still operates in its historical pattern and in some ways it has left that behind. In India much moreso than in any other place I’ve been, people still wear the traditional dress. Sarees, Bindis, Kurtas, are everywhere. Traditional garments seem to outnumber western ones, even in the cities. And bureaucracy reigns supreme in most places. At the airport going through security I was stopped because my ticket wasn’t stamped. It was one guy’s job to simply stamp the ticket at the counter. Even though I’d used the automated kiosk a red mark needed to be put on it for it to be valid.
India has a large upwardly mobile population, as well as a large population stuck in poverty. Still somewhat stuck to its old ways, India’s caste system is still somewhat in place, though on shaky ground. This also means that the tradition of servility is in place. Many of the wealthier Indians and foreigners hire full-time servants for things like driving, cleaning and cooking. I’ve been told these salaries may range from $40 to $250 per month. But that is changing, too; as opportunity comes to India money and business success is becoming the new caste structure. Some formerly from the lowest caste have become multi-millionaires.
And India can be very confusing. For example, Mumbai has two airports separated by 7 km – both with the airport code BOM. So if you’re flying into the country there, then on to another area keep this in mind. Nothing like getting caught at the wrong airport and wondering where your flight is. By the way, the going rate for an autorickshaw (also known as a tuk-tuk) ride from one to the other is about 100 Rupees – $2.50. Learn how the Indian drivers haggle.
India reminds me somewhat of China. And that’s not surprising. Both countries are climbing their way from third-world to first-world status seemingly in a generation. The pace at which each country is modernizing is shocking. And with that modernization come the natural byproducts of construction, squalor beside luxury, cultures intermingling, over crowding, breakdowns in etiquette, etc. It’s very much the feeling of a runaway train going at full speed. You’re going somewhere really fast but staying on the tracks is problematic.
In India this is more of a problem than in China because India is a democracy. Whereas China can shut down production in one area and relocate it overnight, India must nudge the free market. And controlling the direction of the economy means that bribery and corruption are natural outgrowths. This is something both countries have been struggling with in recent years; trying to get it under control. China simply executes those it deems guilty, but India cannot take such a harsh stance. From the feel of things, India seems to be doing a better job of reigning in corruption. China seems to be paying lip service but only needs an occasional scapegoat.
But despite its current challenges, India is a great place. It’s a country moving upward in the world. Quickly modernizing and becoming connected to the rest of the world.
Tracking Your Trip With Your Phone
For a while I’ve been trying to find a device that will let me track myself wherever I go to map out my routes. Then when I got an iPhone I figured there’d be an app for that. Google Latitude came close, but no cigar. But I’ve found a great one!
Turns out, my iPhone tracks what cell towers I’m connected to and stores that data on the phone for a year. Well that’s not going to give you GPS-quality coordinates, but it’s certainly enough for me to show a trip I took and map things out roughly. There’s even an app for that (Mac only for now). Here’s where I’ve been in the last year.
There’s apparently a similar cell tower log file on Android-based phones too. This information has apparently been known for a while, but was just brought up and publicized recently as a security or privacy risk. But that risk is pretty low, considering that someone would have to already have your phone or computer to get the information. And if the data helps you do something positive, then it’s a pretty cool feature. I’d love to see Apple build out a service or piece of software that would accentuate this!
Meandering Mind
It occurs to me that there may be no free will nor destiny. Things which happen simply take the universe in one direction rather than another. No causality, nor inevitability; it just is the way it is because it is. Is existence random or just uncertain? I can’t tell you that. But I do know that there is only one arrow on the direction of time. You can’t unscramble an egg and you can’t unknow a thing. And you can’t recapture time lost for any reason.
…And Back Again
Many readers of this blog will be familiar with my first trip around the world. It was the impetus for starting meanderingwoods to begin with. Well now I’m headed back around the world. I’m leaving in less than a week.
As great as the first trip was, it had one fatal flaw. The direction we took – east to west – sent us traveling with the time zones. When we passed the International Date Line we effectively jumped ahead one day. We continued around and never got that day back. Our bodies ticked off one day less than the calendar. That means we lost a day of our lives in transit. Well I intend to get that day back.
Phileas Fogg had the opposite problem in Around the World in 80 Days – he didn’t realize he’d gained a day. He left from London, heading east. He kept very detailed logs of his journey and it totaled 81 days. But when he arrived home he discovered, to his surprise, that the folks back there thought he’d only been gone 80 days! It’s a bit like time travel, if only on paper.
So that’s what I intend to do. Go from west to east around the world to get back my lost day. Starting in Atlanta I’m flying to Bangalore, India (by way of Amsterdam and Mumbai). Then to Seoul, South Korea with a layover in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Then back around to Atlanta through Detroit, and arrive shortly after I left Seoul. Here are a couple of graphical representations of that trip.
Download the original Power Point presentation.
Stay tuned for details….
Austin Texas – The Culinary Experience
There is quite a lot of good food in Austin. There’s also some not so good. I ate at some of both while visiting.
Heard about a great breakfast spot called Kerbey Lane Cafe. So I headed over and squeezed into a parking spot – it was crowded – and went on in. Got a spot at the bar right away (one of the benefits of traveling and eating alone is you usually get a seat quickly). The bartender was a frenzy of activity. Sunday morning here, as most places, means hair of the dog in the form of mimosas and bloody maries. The guy must have made a hundred of these while I was seated. The bartender never had to pause as he juggled OJ, vodka, coffee, food, and all the other myriad tasks he had to do. Watching him work was worth the price of admission alone. Great food, world class service, inexpensive and very highly recommended.
If you’re out at night on 6th street, it’s worth it to sample some of the street food. That’s one of my favorite styles anywhere and it’s gratifying to see it here where it lacks in so many other American cities. Three patterns stand out among the street food of Austin: pizza, sausage and food trucks. The first two are self-explanatory. And so is the third, really. It’s a pretty simple formula – get an old truck, van, camper, bus or whatever you can find, put a kitchen in it and hang out a sign. They’re all over. Unfortunately the one run-in I had wasn’t good. But then again I went against my better judgement and got some fake buffalo wings. Some kind of fake soy-based chicken-like substance deep fried and tossed in hot sauce. The sauce was good and they were cooked well, but the imposter meat substitute was like juicy sawdust. Steer clear of that abomination and you should be good.
I have to say, I’ve never understood the Texican fascination with barbecued beef brisket. I’ve yet to have any that compared favorably to a better than average pork BBQ. I just don’t get the fascination with it. You take perfectly good steak and don’t cook it like a steak? How is that supposed to be awesome? Maybe it’s an acquired taste to ruin something great, like when the X-Files kept filling their shows with the conspiracy theory stuff. It was just misleading and dull. Kind of like brisket.
But putting my personal feelings aside I tried two of the finer establishments. In beef barbecue that means one was in the middle of a cattle field and the other was at a gas station. No really, that’s not a snarky comment these were the two most highly recommended places in town. The first place I won’t mention, but when you ask around town it’ll be the first place mentioned. I stopped by the one up in Round Rock, just north of the city. My appetizers were the waft of manure that would occasionally waft in and the feast of flesh my eyes got looking at the waitresses and clientele. Both reminded me that just outside Austin, Texas lurks. The ribs were alright but weren’t anything to write about (despite the current activity I’m engaged in). The pinto beans were bland. The cole slaw was essentially shredded cabbage in vinegar. The potatoes au gratin were cold and that’s the best thing I could say about them.
The second place I visited is called Rudy’s Country Store and BBQ. Here too I visited the Round Rock location – where they also serve as a Shell station and convenience store. The highlight was when they asked if I’d eaten there before. I said no and so was pronounced a Rudy’s virgin, entitled to a tasting of their various meats and a walkthrough of the menu and ordering process. It proceeded well and I got to sample some food. I chose my meat – the moist, rather than the lean, cut of brisket, a couple of sides and a Mexican Coke with real sugar. The food was fairly good – the sides were better than the first place and the brisket was tasty. But still after a few bites I found myself wishing they’d made a burger out of it instead.
A couple of places on 6th street I had good luck with I’ve already mentioned when discussing Austin’s nightlife: Jackalope and Casino El Camino. Jackalope has great quesadillas. Casino El Camino has pretty good burgers. Each has great atmosphere.
There’s a place south of 6th where I had a great breakfast, called Crepe Cafe. Run by an authentic Frenchman (in Texas!) who takes pride in his work. Good coffee there too. And lots of French kitch inside. His wife runs an antique store in town, so I’m told.
Nightlife in Austin
The bar district is eponymously called 6th street, which they seem to close off after a certain hour on the weekends. It runs from Congress to the interstate. Yes, the debauchery starts at Congress. It’s the opposite of irony, Alanis. This is a college town, not a beach town but it has some of the same feeling of a Panama City or Daytona. Faux real, rather than fo-real. But under the surface the real underbelly seeps through. That’s what I’ve heard has given the town it’s reputation. Keep Austin weird is the rallying cry.
So as I have the habit of doing I accidentally found a great spot. It’s called Shakespeare’s ale house. As I was walking up somebody was getting hassled for not meeting the dress code. An inauspicious start for someone of my wardrobe. But as it turns out they were dressed too nicely. No polos allowed. Fo-real. Walking inside the beer tub distributor called out “you want a beer?” I turned to see a bearded guy with a grimy shirt hovering over a keg in a plastic tub dorm party style. Oh yeah I’m home. As I explored the place I found it was huge inside with several other bars in a courtyard, around back and upstairs. Reminds me of a place I went to in Budapest that way. If it’s packed out front head down the alley off Trinity.
The great thing about college towns is the economy. Cheap drinks are plentiful, street food is more common and if you tip the bartender you’re made of gold. The bad thing about college towns is the economy. It’s hard to find a great meal because most of the nicer places are chains. And you can’t find a decent beer despite the neon signs that decorate the walls of the places because nobody buys them. Except in the places where professors and businessmen hang out. And who wants to go there?!
Or did I speak too soon? There’s a place called the Jackalope has unsavory characters, quality draft beer and good late night food. Naked women decorate the walls and menus. Obscure punk and beach boys music undertone the conversation. Run out to the back bar and get your ears peeled by Bad Religion, Social D and other punk favorites. Might be trouble for those who live here. 
Austinians? Austinites? Austinites I’m told by the bartender. That delicious smell near and in the Jackalope? Jack’s pizza. They’re connected. Get it? Also connected but less sensical is the Mooseknuckle.
I’m starting to get a feel for the place. The Austin beneath the capital tinsel and college teeny-boppers. A place where you’re likely to run into a Mod fresh from a Duran Duran video drinking with a guy dressed like he’s at a 70s disco, listening to NOFX and drinking Shiner. Their eyes ping ponging between a cult movie and a Rangers preseason game.
And further down the road toward I35 is Casino El Camino. A bar cum burger joint. Guinness and Shiner on tap. Good top shelf liquor and even port wine. Very eclectic jukebox. Monkees and Beatles mix with Black Keys and Cee-Lo Green. Hipsters mix with argyle shirt dockers wearers mix with tatted rockers. Good burgers. Not vortex quality but good. Made the mistake of doing
the Amarillo Burger at the same time as what the bartendress called a “dark and spicy” bloody Mary. Fire in the hole!
If you continue on past the Interstate you’ll run into another, weirder part of town. On the left there’s a place called the East Side Show Room. Six quality beers on tap. It’s got the speakeasy feel without the pretense. This place seems like how a real speakeasy would operate – bartenders with their sleeves crumpled rolled up and their ties loosened, shirts untucked, constantly in motion. The band takes the spotlight and beats out a rhythm for the place. I’d call them all girl but three quarters of them are in drag as men. When the band takes a set break they throw a movie on the projector and a vision of yesteryear comes to life. The visage of Buster Keaton is cast upon a canvas framed by, well, a picture frame hung above the stage. But the star of the show is the real cocktails. Some are aged for six weeks. Sounds wild I will 
agree but just try them. The Norwegian Wood is aquavit (when have you ever seen this outside Scandinavia?), vermouth and other players, aged for six weeks in a whiskey barrel. Or the New Pal, also aged, which features a sweetness on your lips but a fiercely bitter aftertaste. Makes you want to drink more. But take note that the bar stools are not made for anyone with hips wider than 30″. It’d be painful if there weren’t ample anesthetic. I think I’ve got to add this as one of my top 10 bars I’ve been to.
Next door is a shack. In the back of the shack is a yard. In the yard there are food trucks and trailers. And picnic benches for eating on. On the benches are hipsters. This is a bar for them. And you if you want too. The place is painfully hip. I don’t think it even has a name. Keep Austin weird.
Austin – A State Apart From Texas
Initially on arriving I wasn’t quite sure whether Austin would fulfill its promise to be in Texas, but not really a part of Texas. But after having been here a few days I’m ready to pronounce the capital of Texas a state unto its own. It is a state of mind well away from the plains and reigns which are associated with the land around. Geographically, Austin is in what they call the hill country. Everything is bigger in the mind of a Texan. These aren’t so much hills as piles and ditches by most standards. But it’s not arid here like much of the state, nor is it overly humid like the coastal cities. It’s warm and pleasant tonight after a high of 90 during the day.
There’s a great outdoors area just south of the heart of downtown called Zilker Park. It’s packed this weekend since the weather is so nice. It’s free to come in and just wander around. There are many different areas but the one I was most drawn to was the Barton Springs Pool. This is a partially man-made rectangular-ish area with a diving board and life guards and a grassy hill on each side. But the water is constantly refreshed by a freshwater spring and at the 
opposite end it flows on down the river. The temperature hovers near 68F year round, which is just pleasant enough in the 85-90 degree days.
In downtown it’s strange to say but you’re not reminded as much of Texas as you’d think. Even though you’re in Texas and the state capital is at the center of the city, it just doesn’t feel like what I’d expected. Granted I haven’t spent a whole lot of time in the state, but most of it has been driving through desert or underwhelmed Dallas and Houston. And just outside of Austin you get back to the sprawling suburbs and suburbanites that you expect from the state. But the city itself seems out of place. And that’s a good thing.
Much of that difference is probably linked to two factors – University of Texas and the city’s status as “live music capital of the world”. The first brings a constantly refreshed pool of youth and diversity. As an example, when I was here there was a festival going on at the campus called the Forty Acres Fest. Lots of students out walking around, booths set up for the various university clubs and organizations. Games on the side like inflatable obstacle course, climbing tower, slam dunk, etc. Talked with the folks in the Travel Club of Texas – a group dedicated to talking about where they’ve been, where they want to go and raising money to go.
And there were dozens of student union groups for different nationalities. I got a Malaysian drink and brownie from one fundraiser. Other groups included most of the nationalities of Asia. That’s surprising for a state often known more for its xenophobia than its openness. But this is Austin, not Texas.
And the festival featured the other feature Austin is known for, live music. There were some local groups and some comedy improv during the changeovers. The groups were good – even the ones during the day. And I didn’t hear any country and western music. One band was clearly in the pop-rock scene. Another an indie group. One was a weird funk band that was as entertaining to watch as to hear. But the real highlight of the show was Big Boi of the group Outkast. Another Atlanta boy in town for the weekend.
meanderingwoods 