Author Archives: Beau Woods
…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.
Out of Nicaragua
I had great fun in Nicaragua. Despite all the hard work and heat, it was quite an experience. The people there were great – friendly and polite. And at the end of the day you felt like you’d accomplished something tangible to help real people.
And working that closely with people you normally see in a much different capacity was also great. I learned a lot about my coworkers and we definitely formed bonds that will last a long time. We learned that we can trust one another to pull just as hard during just as trying circumstances. I wouldn’t hesitate to lean on one of those folks in the future and would hope they’d feel alright leaning on me if they need it.
Some notes that haven’t found themselves elsewhere in my descriptions:
- There are geckos all over the walls. At night they hang out by the lights and catch moths.
- In Nicaragua the ‘S’ is silent and the ‘C’ is pronounced like they do in Barcelona – that is, with a “TH” sound.
- The long-timers here say that you don’t get sore after a hard day’s work because you don’t ever get cooled down like you do in the US. Sure enough, after I got back and hit the cool weather I got sore. Funny, that.
- Most of the folks didn’t speak much, if any English. But I got much more confident speaking Spanish with them and wasn’t ever really stuck for communication.
Well, back to the real world….
Chinandega, Nicaragua – Dia Tres
I’m exhausted. I’m dirty. I’m sweaty. And I feel good. We did a lot of work today.
Started out at 7am with breakfast and coffee. Then went out to the local dump. There is a tent city beside the dump where lots of folks live. They were displaced by Hurricane Mitch about a dozen years ago. They make their living by digging through the trash as it comes into the dump. It’s pretty filthy work. And they don’t make a lot of money doing it.
Then we went out to Villa Santa Catalina. That’s the city that is being built to accommodate those who want to leave the dump. Small homes made of concrete and brick in a community with a soccer pitch and basketball court. They’ve got a couple of schools built because they outgrew the first one.
First task was to dig latrines. Don’t worry there was nothing in them yet. But we dug trenches 60cm deep. It was hard work out in the hot sun. Shovel. Pick. Measure. Shovel. Pick. Measure. Repeat. Move to the next one.
Then we moved onto helping lay the foundation in the houses. Shovel sand, shovel gravel, mix with concrete, add water, mix more, keep mixing, shovel into buckets, carry the buckets to the house. Repeat. That was more grueling than the digging.
We had lunch at about 12:30 – PB:&J again. Then back to work.
We worked until about 5:30 or so. It sounds a lot easier when I’m typing it out than it was to actually do it. Lots of people over exerted themselves and had to take an extended breather. And we took some time here and there to play with the kids who ran to us to try and help out.
It’ll be an early night tonight. Ate dinner in one bite I think. Waiting for the showers to clear out. Going to have to burn these clothes or something. Tomorrow we’re going to be helping to build a bridge.
Chinandega, Nicaragua: Dia Dos
This morning we started out with breakfast. Had the option to go to Church and I took it. Great chance to visit the culture of the place, even if I wasn’t going to be able to understand what was said. The place was humble by European church standards, but this is a humble town in a humble country.
It was pretty cool – first communion for a bunch of kids. Some people thought it was a terrible thing, but I thought it was a great experience! That made the service drag on a bit so I jumped outside and snapped some photos.When that was over the choir, composed entirely of kids, did a Spanish version of what I think was Blowin’ in the Wind.
One thing I noticed is that all the candelabras used fluorescent bulbs. For a greener Nicaragua or because electricity costs so much? But if a small church that serves a poor population in one of the poorest countries in the world can afford replace their lights, why can’t most Americans?
After that we came back to the house and changed clothes. We were going to climb up a volcano! Cerra Negra – Black Mountain – is an inactive, though not dormant, volcano made entirely of black pumice stone. It’s a huge pile of heat-attracting sand and gravel with sharp edges. And its face is almost straight up for 2000+ feet. Who came up with this idea again?
We got started and it was slow going. Up 2 feet, slide back down 1 foot. Again and again. The group quickly got separated as some climbed quickly, others more slowly. Mostly climbing on our hands and feet due to the grade, it was kind of miserable. About 1/4 of the way up I wanted to turn back; 1/3 of the way I was concerned for my life; 1/2 of the way I was concerned for my sanity. By 3/4 of the way I had a technique and it was a bit easier. And when I looked down the people looked smaller than the people at the top for the first time. By 4/5 of the way up I was convinced I could make it. The grade leveled out a bit and it got easier even though I was exhausted.
When I got to the top it was worth it. My legs were quivering but the view made up for it. And the PB&J we’d packed for lunch was delicious! There was a nice breeze, some cloud cover had moved in and it was nice. I walked around the top and looked down into the caldera, photographing the steamy sulfur rising. We waited for the rest to join then began the descent.
It was faster and much more fun! Essentially you run or jump or slide down the mountain the same way you came up. It was a blast! Everybody was doing it and when I turned up the hill to look at those coming down it was quite a sight! I found that I could somewhat ski down the mountain, almost like cross country skiing. Worth the toll the hike up cost me.
We came home and had dinner quietly. Everybody was exhausted. Bedtime will come quickly tonight.
Live from Chinandega, Nicaragua
Well I was fortunate enough to get bumped to First Class for the 4-hour flight here. It felt more like going to California than London.
Arrived and wanted to get some local currency for walking around money and to bring back. Found a bank of ATMs but didn’t remember the conversion rate and didn’t want to accidentally pull out like $5,000 USD. So I went over to a little cafe and asked if they spoke English and if they took American money. They indicated that the answer to both was “no.” So I tried in my best bad Spanish to ask if they knew the conversion rate so I could get money out of the ATM. They indicated it was roughly C$20 to the $1 USD and offered to sell me a coffee for USD. Good deal. I’m sure they took pity on my for speaking such poor Spanish. I learned that I’m no better at Spanish in Latin America than in Spain. Uf, que lastima.
So I did end up pulling some cash out – C$2,000. I probably won’t spend all of that but I can change it out at the airport when I leave. I used that cash to buy some plantain chips with lime, chile and salt flavoring. I skipped the chips/pork rind mix.
Driving from the airport to Chinandega was a nice tour of the country and the way the people live. There was lots of graffiti, and most of it propaganda courtesy of the Daniel Ortega leadership. “Viva la Revolucion” “Viva Daniel” “Viva la Juventud” I understood. “JS:19:J” and “FSLN” I didn’t.
Dinner was rice, a shrimp dish to pour over it, beans and salad. It was really great! After dinner we sat around a little bit and some folks played guitar, others kicked the soccer ball or threw the football. It was nice and relaxing and a great way to aid our digestion.
After that we headed into town. It was about 2 miles. Walking along the streets we drew quite a few curious looks from folks. Any group of 40 or so will tend to do that. Past the old church, a left here and a right there, down to the Central Park.
We strolled around the park on our own. It was a vibrant place. Kids playing, young parents pushing their kids along in strollers and ice cream vendors (heladores). There was a small gated area in which a few kids were playing soccer. The group spontaneously converged on a little outdoor beer garden for a cold drink. Tona is a “lager especial” and went for about $1 per bottle. It was cold and good and cold. We drew a crowd of onlookers and folks standing outside the fence trying to get our attention.
On the way back I stopped and grabbed some of that carne asada with something that was like a vinegar-based cole slaw, something like a spicy chow-chow (that’s a Southern thing) and fried plantains to share with the group as we walked back. The steak had some kind of lime marinade and was delicious.
The city reminded me of some of the places I’d seen in China a little bit. Soot covered the street (though in Chinandega it’s from the volcano, not dirty power plants and factories) and there was an acrid odor of open fires. Little shops were open selling things and street food vendors dotted the sidewalk selling carne asada.
When we got back we hung out in the main area for a bit before crawling into bed. In a room with 27 friends down near the equator, your fan quickly becomes your closest friend. The breeze it generates as well as the droning noise are great aids to help you snooze. And snooze I did. It was great.
Nicaragua Bound
I’ll be heading to Nicaragua for a company-sponsored humanitarian trip in October. The group organizing the trip is Amigos for Christ. I’ll be there a week – the 9th to the 16th. We’ll be doing different tasks, including digging a well and building houses.
Basic information about Nicaragua
- Population: 5.9 million
- GDP Per Capita (PPP): $2,900
- Affluence: 133th in the world – below average
- Currency: Nicaraguan Cordoba
- Exchange Rate: ~20:1 NIO:USD
Looks like we’re not the only ones going: The next season of Survivor is going to be in Nicaragua.
meanderingwoods 