TURKEY TO UKRAINE

ARRIVAL IN TURKEY

Unlike other countries I've been to, the border guards were singularly inattentive.  One was busy sending a text on his phone when I approached.  He grudgingly put it away and informed me that although I was transferring to a different flight, the $20 Turkish visa would still need to be purchased.

Coming from Germany, the airport was a bit of a shock.  It was a lot like having someone urbane introduce you to their younger, sleazier, greedier and more retarded brother.

Unlike the super efficient German airport, the counters didn't open until an hour or two before the international flight and nobody knew where they would be.  They would make a gesture which conveyed not only their ignorance of the topic asked upon but total indifference to your plight.  The finger thick glass was obviously to prevent customers from strangling the inept lazy staff.

After getting sized up for a possible stabbing by various men in maroon track suits, I was eventually allowed to turn in my luggage and pass through the only thing which seemed clean and in good working order - the huge amounts of duty free counters.

At least here there were no questions of 'onward transit'.



ARRIVAL IN KIEV

Upon arrival in Kiev, I stepped out into cold which made my coat crackle.  When you come from the tropics into such, you wonder if you've gone insane.  Perhaps South America did make me a bit crazy.

In order to get to the terminal I wanted, I had to take an airport shuttle bus to it.  I consulted with the driver and he confirmed I'd picked the right bus.  It wasn't until I was seated in the bus I saw the sign "Driver gives no information".  Dodged a bullet there.

For some odd reason, the shuttle made a couple of stops at seemingly random places on the street before making it to the terminal.

We waited for the plane, eventually presenting our boarding passes and trudging out to a different bus to take us to the plane.  After awhile in the bus, we had to go back into the airport.  There was a problem - no plane.  It wasn't that the plane had mechanical problems, blown up or otherwise hijacked - they just didn't have a plane.  Nobody had more information.  I've been told by many people "Only in Ukraine."

We were told it would be a couple hours until a plane was found.  Clutching all of my bags, I fell asleep.

A man I'd had a cigarette with and a brief chat to woke me up.  This is where the Logan Luck kicked in.  He told me to follow him.  Sure, why not.  I gathered my things and we headed away from the rest of the passengers.  "There will be no plane.  I have managed to reserve three seats on a bus to Odessa.  One is for you, one for me and one for another lady."

How much would this cost?  $30 - USD.

Fine.  It was pretty cheap and I could afford it.

A quote from the kind man who woke me named Denise "This is Ukraine, who knows.  It's happening when it's fucking happening."  And no, I did not misspell his name.

Now in most airports if the plane is cancelled as it was announced later this one was the airport would take care of either putting the passengers up at a hotel, pay for a bus or at a minimum refund the ticket price.  Not so here.  It is possible that if I spent a dozen hours hotly arguing with someone I may have gotten back the $40 ish dollars of the airfare but it is more likely I'd have just wasted my time.

"This is Ukraine.  Nothing is simple, nothing works right." I am often told.

Only a couple people were hotly arguing with the attendant.  The rest just seemed to accept the situation and began looking for buses.  There didn't seem to be other buses.  Since we had a few minutes until our departure time, I decided to try what was probably gawd awful coffee from the machines.

I was blocked of course by not having any of the local currency.  "Only national currency accepted" read many signs inside the secure area of the airport.  That's kind of a big 'fuck you' to tourists.  Apparently it is the same in Russia and they have chosen to copy this appalling custom.  After getting some 'hryvnia' via my mighty Paypal card I was further blocked by a very special lady persuading her colleague not to give me change.  "What a special person you must be!" I told her.  The guy who was going to give me change did his best to suppress a huge grin.

Next time - the bus to Odessa!



BAG WEIGHT

My large bag is about 12KG and my small is 8KG.  I realize that is still 20KG and many would tell you that is a huge amount of weight.  Unfortunately, I can't figure out any clever way to reduce it.  The small bag contains just my computer and cables and yes, it gets used plenty.  The normal adage of 'dump clothing' has already been done and I've not much to wear.  Especially noteworthy as I seem to have entered the arctic circle.

DOMINICAN REPUBLIC TO DEUTSCHLAND

DOMINICAN REPUBLIC

Normally, it costs $10 (again, in USD) to enter the Dominican Republic.  Since I was just transferring to a different plane, they kindly waved the fee.

Despite what I'd been told in Lima by the airlines, a nice man told me I'd need to pick up my luggage to manually transfer it to the next plane.  You have to keep an eye on your luggage despite what many airports tell you.

The best thing about the airport is you could smoke almost anywhere in it.

The worst thing about the airport is they could double the size and it still wouldn't be enough.  It is a madhouse.

Teams of a dozen porters would assault every van pulling up and have the luggage unloaded before the passengers even had a chance to get out.  They were all after the tip.

They tried to have mandatory picture taking with a bunch of native girls dressed in native clothing.  Later, they tried to sell you the pictures.  This might have worked back when photographs were a rare and wondrous thing but in these days of digital cameras it seems a bit silly.

There were a lot of flights to and from the USA.  The airport was full of fat Americans shuffling listlessly about or, when their bulk had become too great, being pushed about in wheelchairs.

Going with the ancient tradition of 'put the person with the worst English on the mic', they had some lady who sounded as excited and incomprehensible as a soccer announcer begging someone to please show up to somewhere.  All I could understand was that their plane was leaving without them.  Even had it been my own name announced, I wouldn't have understood it.  Hell, I don't know if she was comprehensible in her native tongue.


While sitting there, bored out of my mind, I decided to write an article on 'five types of tourist you are likely to spot'.

Golden oldies:  These are the people who kept saying 'Some day, we'll go on vacation to a foreign country'.  Eventually, they woke up and realized they were nearly dead.  They'd put off going on a vacation for so long they now get to lug wheelchairs and oxygen bottles with them as they peer out through the world with rheumy eyes.  They're going for their last gasp (literally) for life outside the box.

Older professionals:  These aren't the line workers - they don't have any real vacation time.  These are the bosses pulling down real money and have a good enough job to have a couple months of vacation time.  They are often found with their middle aged fat wives or with the newer, younger, slimmer upgrade.  They enjoy treating the locals like their wage slaves and would fire many of them if given the chance.  Cutting in lines and being the 'Ugly American' (despite nationality) is their passion.

Youthful and idealistic:  These two things often go together because age demands compromise. There are several different categories.  They may be of the vegetarian "I can make the world a better place unlike the filthy savages that live there and obviously need white leadership" sort or just people who enjoy volunteering.  They could be students during a gap year.  Either way, they wander around wide eyed and keep their faces planted in Lonely Planet guidebooks.

Fashion hippies:  I call them 'fashion hippies' because I've met actual hippies who were protesting the Vietnam War - while it was still going on.  Yes, I'm old.  The current hippies, in order to show of their unique individualism, keep to a strict uniform dress code.  Big hair whether multicolored or in dreads, piercings, tattoos and bright often native clothing festoon them with cheap native jewelry and bracelets made from string and plastic.  They either work as they can get it or more often have indulgent rich parents who are happy to get rid of them.

Young, rich and beautiful:  Where these people come from and how they get the money for traveling is a complete mystery.  They often have matching suitcases or can afford to take their small children to different countries.  The scarier versions often have the family all in matching track suits or some equally as appalling wardrobe.  In general terms, these are the jet set.


I don't really fit into any group but I'd like to inherit a bunch of money and get in with the jet set.  If you were curious.  In a few more years, I'll probably be a 'golden oldie'.  Sad.



ALLES FUR DEUTSCHLAND

Back in Germany.  Again.  Were I more wealthy, less tired and demotivated I'd catch a cab for a few hours and tour the sites of Frankfurt.  Since the opposite is true, I sat my fat ass in the huge airport for my fourteen hour layover.

In my quest for affordable food, I mistakenly ate McDonalds but a couple of antibiotics stopped the sludge from continuing to come forth from my bottom.  Yes, it was real McDonalds and affected me just like the stuff in the states did.  Why do I listen to the siren's call of evil American fast food?

In German airports, everything works.  They allowed my baggage to be dropped off over ten hours before my flight rather than most airports only allowing it a couple hours ahead of time.

The only real bummer was getting rousted by the cops.

One of them yelled at me till I woke up.  "What?"

"Can we see your boarding pass?"

"Ah  - you think I am a homeless person?"

The female cop gave me a big manic grin.  "Maybe!"

They left me alone after they found out I did indeed have legit business at the airport.

Unfortunately, other Germans not knowing I spoke German (or caring) made various dark mutterings about the homeless in airports as they passed me.

It's not only difficult to afford a better wardrobe but even finding stuff in my size is nearly impossible.

After chatting to some girls working at a bar, they sold me a weiss beer for a bit less than the posted price.  Hopefully they weren't thinking "What a charming homeless man!"

Later I went through airport security.  The security guys were better than the ones in South America but they still missed my security pouch, which is about the size of a snub nosed .38 pistol.


I've been told in Ukraine smoking on the streets has been made illegal.  Hence, I checked with a German guy and asked him in German "Can I smoke outside?"

He looked as shocked as though I'd questioned if Germans were still aloud to have children.  "Natürlich!" (naturally) he responded.

Heck, there was even a smoking room at my gate.

Score!


Eventually, I flew off to Turkey.  More on that sleazy airport in the next blog!



DOLLARS SUCK

Because Americans like to stay in the USA, they don't get to see the value of their dollar going away in quite as dramatic way as the rest of the world.  The dollar has been steadily losing against the brand  new Euro pretty much since the Euro was first printed.  Fortunately, Americans don't worry about anything even if it kicks them in the face.



TRAVELERS TIP

How much luggage is too much?  If you are rich enough to pay off porters to lug your stuff everywhere, you can take as much as you want.  If you are a normal person, here is my opinion:

You have to be able to carry everything you want to take with you for 500 meters.

You.  Not your boyfriend, husband, wife or dog.  You.  Can you carry it for 500 meters?  Have you tested this or are you guessing?  Test it.  If you are rolling it, pick it up.  Dragging doesn't count.  There are way too many unexpected mud fields you have to cross where dragging it isn't an option.

If you are winded at the end of it (or have collapsed under the weight of your crap) you have too much.

This is for a short vacation.  If you are going on a longer one, take even less as you will often be carrying it.



PHILOSOPHY

I've always been more impressed with architecture than natural beauty.  It's the difference between "We built this" opposed to "We haven't fucked this up yet!"

HISTORY OF LOGAN, VOLUME 2

ONCE UPON A TIME....  Part 2

For those just tuning in, this is a recounting through the cobwebs of memory of my first trip through part of the world back when Europe looked more like this:

At the time when stuff like this was still around

Everything in here is true as far as my wacked out mind can remember.  I've told and retold parts of these stories often and hopefully they haven't grown in the retelling.  If they have, well, I hope you find it entertaining.


After getting my painful inoculations and enough gear to live out in the woods perpetually I was ready to depart with one friend and one acquaintance.

The friend was Roy.  He was of half Egyptian and half other (no idea) descent.  I'd met him while attending some philosophy classes in the college on base.  He was a smart guy and spoke three languages I knew of - Arabic, English and German.  If he spoke more, he never mentioned it.  We did a lot of table top gaming together and hung out.

I remember he had messy black hair, round glasses and was very excited and passionate about everything.  He often wildly gesticulated and leaned forward when he talked, a feature I later came to associate with Egyptians.

There is a small scar on the back of my right hand from one of his celebrations of Ramadan.  During those days, I knew little of the holiday.  What I did know is that during the day time, Roy would become progressively more insane from lack of food and water.  When dusk neared, he would prepare a large meal so that when the clock showed him the sun had gone down, he could gorge himself.  I'd made the mistake of trying to filch a piece of food before gorging time, hence the scar.  He was quick.  Roy was the leader of the group.  He'd traveled at some point in the past and did all of the route planning.  In fact, I don't remember ever making any sort of decision - just paying my share for tickets, food and so on.

Hunter I knew less well other than when he wanted to he could be very funny.  He was also a gamer (table top RPG's) but not as serious as Roy.  Hunter had shoulder length hair and a long face and made a lot of women sigh when they saw him.   Other than doing some gaming with him, I really didn't know him that well.  When you travel with someone you don't know well, you could get someone amazing to travel with (like Pete H. who I traveled with for a month when I first started my current voyage) or someone like Hunter who you'd later plot to kill.

It was with these two people we would set off into what was pretty much 'the unknown'.  Remember that the wall had just come down and there were not a lot of reports as to what was happening over there nor even what existed.  This was at the time before guide books.  Well before the internet existed in any kind of useful form.  There were no smart phones for people to bury themselves into and ignore what was going on around them.  If you were bored, your two choices were either talking to someone else or reading a paper back book you'd lugged with you.

There are a lot of stupid lazy young people.  I was one of them.  It can even be argued that I've grown into a stupid lazy adult.  Because I was stupid and lazy at the time, thoughts of writing down things so they could be preserved didn't even enter my mind.  As a result, my memories are more like snapshots.  These days, I encourage any young people I come across to write things down.  Whether they choose to make them available to others or not is up to them.  You don't write them down for now but to savor or review later in life perhaps after decades.  The excuse that often comes up is they'd rather live in the moment than detract from it, pausing to write things down.  Short sighted.  The moment can be experienced more than once!

The lack of notes is distressing.

Our starting point was Munich.  Rather than taking a train or something, it was to be mostly hitchhiking.

Even today, hitchhiking in Europe is not uncommon.  Young people do it to get around.  Contrast with America where even in the 1980's it was not only seen as dangerous but often illegal.

Of the rides the three of us with our over packed packs received in Germany, only two do I recall.

One was a nun in a subcompact.  She obviously wanted to be charitable and dare I say Christian and give us a ride.  We somehow managed to stuff ourselves and packs into the go kart sized car without lube.  Nuns are unlikely to carry such.  It was also the shortest ride we received.  I think she just took us down a hill and that was her destination.

The second which stands out was a pretty eighteen year old girl driving a large van.  Imagine that if you will.  A pretty girl driving a large empty van happy to stop for three disreputable looking backpackers on the side of the road.  There are so many ways in which this could go wrong.  Some may point out that it is also an interesting beginning for a porno movie.  In our case, we put our best German speaker up in the passenger seat (Roy) to chat with her while Hunter and I fell asleep in the back.

This was in the days before every German learned English.  In those days if you didn't try to at least slaughter their language they wouldn't reveal schooling at Harvard and their English was better than yours.

The other memory I have involves a bit of illegal camping in West Germany.  We may have still been in Bavaria at the time and lugging our anvil packs.  We decided to hide out in a bit of forest and do some illegal camping.  Were there legal places to camp?  Probably.  Did we have a clue where they were?  Who knows.  We just decided to camp in the woods.

Since I'd spent years in the military, my job was to make sure we weren't found.  Camouflage is all about breaking up the straight lines and blending in to natural surroundings.  Years of sitting behind various desks (with an occasional moonlight chase thrown in for spice) qualified me to do some camouflage work on the tents.  I did the best I could but later training shows we'd have probably been more hidden and less comfortable in debris shelters.


We may have been there for a couple days before the gig was up.  While we were walking down the road sans packs carrying groceries to our hidden camp the forester drove by and scowled at us.  The scowl may have been from snapping his head around to glare at us.  We knew he'd be seeking us.  After delving once again into the forest and adding a few more touches to the camouflage a small yellow helicopter flew around looking for us.  Even at the fairly low altitude it flew we were pretty confident he couldn't find us.

He did.

To this day, I've no idea how it happened.  The day after the helicopter search he just appeared in the woods a large muscular barrel chested guy wearing a feathered cap and leiderhosen.  The leiderhosen are why I'm thinking this must have taken place in Bavaria.  Northern Germans would rather be caught without pants than in leiderhosen.

This red faced bull of a man just materialized from the woods carrying an absurdly large heavy tool - perhaps a tree snipper over one shoulder.  I remember thinking that a swing of that could probably crush my skull.

To our surprise, he was rather cool about our encroachment into his woods.

"I am responsible for these woods."  He told us in German.  Pointing, he said "But I am not responsible for those woods."

Rather than move our campsite we decided to just press on and head into East Germany.

Leiderhosen.

Eventually, we arrived at the imposing East German border.

Although I was trying to play it cool, I'm sure I was very nervous.  Probably was worried they'd start shouting "Du bist ein Spion!" (You are a spy!) and haul me off never to be seen again.   Just like today, it was very easy to be 'disappeared'.  At that time the guys doing it were the infamous East German Stasi.  They combined all of the best (worst) qualities of a ruthless Russian controlled secret police with the same German efficiency and attention to detail you get with the people who designed and crafted Porsche.

Those ass clenching moments at the border have slipped from my memories and my only other memory of East Germany is the 'tourist hotel'.

At that time, there was only one place we were allowed to stay.  The hotel for 'westerners'.  

When we first arrived, dirty and disheveled the disgusted old lady barked at us to leave our shoes near the door.  We were provided with fluffy slippers.  These were to be worn at all times within the shiny wooden floored building.

After the obligatory mountain of paper work, we were required to leave our passports with the front desk.   During those days you always had to leave the passport with the hotel.  I'm not sure what would happen if you were stopped in the streets and asked for your papers by the police - or the secret police.  I presume that although they knew you of course had to leave your passport with the hotel it would be a gravely illegal crime not to carry it on you at all times - punishable by a hefty fine and some time in a squalid prison full of burly men who think you have a pretty mouth.  For whatever reason leaving passports with the hotel is no longer done.  The only times I my current trip I've had to surrender my passport for an extended period of time were for sea voyages.  I presume they keep them not only to get them processed faster but to keep track of who all was lost while at sea.

We swished our way up to the room.  Not a lot of details remain in my mind other than by prearrangement we talked only either of banal things such as how much we liked East Germany or the weather while we all searched for listening devices.

We found five.

That was one of the things I've always liked about the USSR.  Heavy handed and not very competent.  Had these been hidden professionally, we wouldn't have found them without either electronics or ripping up the walls.  Having a 'bug' behind wall paper makes it really hard to find - even with the 1980's tech we had at the time.  Or the 1960's tech the Soviets had bothered to employ within this room.  Still, you can never tell who is listening.  Obviously, we left them all in place and were sure to have a conversation which would be a great read from a transcript.

In the morning, we had one of the finest breakfasts I've had to this day.  It was a stout German breakfast with the addition of fruits, breads and real honey.  That was the first time experiencing honey with the comb.  Which is much different than not only the honey sold in the stores in the USA but Honeycomb.

While in the DDR [Deutsche Demokratische Republik (German), the German Democratic Republic (English)] I was amazed.  Unlike pristine West Germany, Eastern Germany was a mess like river beds filled with trash and old tires.  There didn't seem to be any emission controls on vehicles so the air was so thick you had to hack a hole in it to breath.  Ugly, gray and depressing.  Stores with long lines and nothing on the shelves.

After they reunified, it took hundreds of billions of dollars (maybe has high as 850 billion) to fix up East Germany to get it closer to the level of West Germany though many people say it's not there yet.  (Note, as of 2013 Berlin looks great.)  That gives you some idea of just how fucked up the DDR had become from the end of World War 2 till the early 1990's.  Approximately 41 years of communism to completely trash the place.

When someone tells me about communism I can say I've seen the result.  It looks good on paper but the reality is something even vodka can't fix.

In the next exciting issue we move out of the DDR and onward.



LOGANISMS

I was talking to the owner of the hostel and told her I was sick of visiting countries of little people.

"Just once, I want to go to a country of huge, fat people that make me look anorexic.  I want to walk into a clothing shop with my head held high and ask for a shirt, size medium!"

She told me Samoa was very expensive.

I told her in America they have support groups for anorexics.  "I've always wanted to go to one and look very depressed and say 'I just feel fat'.  Possibly while eating donuts."

She said "You can cry too.  In Ecuador they have only support groups for alcoholics and drug users."

"What - to get more alcohol and drugs?  Sounds fine."



OH TIMMY

"When I was a kid I always wanted to grow up and become a train conductor or a gynecologist. I suppose thats because I really like tunnels."  - Tim

BIT OF BADO

TRAVELOGUE

In Amman, I managed to get my shorts and sneakers repaired by the same guy - on different dates. He tried to refuse money for the shorts but I pressed it on him.

For my trip to Akaba, Jordan I managed to get a seat in the top, front of a double decker bus. My philosophy is that 'until you ask, you don't know'. Believe me, this was not my assigned seat.

Although I had caught a bus bound for Akaba (from Amman), my plan was to get off near the turn off to Wadi Rum. It is confusing to me that a major tourist area like Wadi Rum doesn't have it's own bus going there - or a station there to take people onto it but I've learned that travel in this part of the world is tricky at best. My plan was just to hitchhike or something. But, if you've been reading this blog for long you will know that Logan's plans don't always (well, rarely) work out as he thought they would. It turns out that the bus would not stop. Hence, I had to drive past Wadi Rum and go an hour more to reach Akaba - which meant I'd have to backtrack the same distance. Joy. On the way to Akaba, they had a 'military checkpoint'. They checked other people's ID's and my passport. We had to run all of our bags through an xray machine. The laptop and kindle gave their x-ray machine some difficulty. Rather than making me open my bag, they just asked what was in it. I said "Two lap tops and dirty clothing!" It was close enough for them. "You are welcome." they said. Within 5-10 minutes total, we were off. Note, they didn't xray my satchel. After we had left the checkpoint, I discretely asked another passenger why they had it. Apparently, Akaba is 'strategic'. Brings back memories of Lawrence of Arabia.

When I got off what I thought was a very long bus ride in Akaba, I was literally surrounded by six taxi cab drivers trying to get me into their cab. Someone else had told me it was only 1 KM to the bus station. As I set off walking there, I was literally followed by all of the cab drivers. When people do this, it makes me very upset. I must have said "Please stop following me." ten times or more. Sometimes, the only thing to get rid of them is asking other people how you can get police aid. Note, this is not always a good move because you may just need these people later. Use it as a last resort only.

Tourism in Jordan without your own big "Adam truck", a pain in the ass. It is debatable whether it is really worth it.

The cab drivers also spoke to the bus guys. I suspect they were trying to tell the bus drivers not to take me anywhere as I was 'their fare'. Eventually, I discovered that one of the buses that had said it wasn't the right one to take was indeed one that went by - but not to - Wadi Rum. I said 'fuck it' and got on that bus.

I got dropped off literally at a deserted crossroads in the middle of the desert.

You know the phrase "I'd rather be lucky than good"? It applies to me. Literally, less than twenty seconds after I got dropped off, a car full of Germans pulled up. They asked where I was headed and after I responded, they kindly offered me a lift. I got my gear in the trunk and squeezed in. There was Daniel (he is thin and tall), Thomas (who we called "David Hasselhoff" - or maybe it was just me), Diena (lady who didn't talk much) and their leader and tour guide Jonas. In addition to a few other languages, Jonas also spoke fluent Arabic.

I couldn't have planned or asked for better companions.

So I went to Wadi Rum. Our hosts were the Al Zalabeh tribe of Bedouin (in Arabic, Bado).

We hung out at Wadi Rum. Although I wasn't able to play backgammon with the Bedouin It was neat. I made some videos that the slow and shitty internet in Egypt may or may not let me upload - I will try.

We slept in the desert for one night. I literally got to spend 9/11 this year in a Bedouin camp.

The next day, we toured around in the truck with our driver Moohmmd (his spelling). I did get to see a lot of different rocks and walk through a lot of sand. Each place we stopped at that had something special, our guide wanted to hang out for a long time. Fortunately, my traveling companions had some place they needed to be. After the first "I can't believe we're still here" times went by, they just started setting out to the truck earlier than Moohmmd was expecting to go. After he discovered they weren't holding with any shenanigans, the journey went a lot faster. The total trip time was say five hours. I didn't think that any of the stops at the 'look what I have for sale, please have some tea' Bedouin tents were really necessary - or at least not for more than a couple minutes. I think you could do the place in 3-4 hours if you knew where you were going.

I think the only thing that really could have been improved was the midday meal. We got taken to a fairly horrible grocery store and told to buy food for our meal. They really didn't have any good picnic food and certainly no picnic baskets. Personally, I'd have had that as one (bad) option or for an additional charge, you can have Bedouin cooking at one of the tents. I inquired about this and was told flatly "There are not enough women." I asked if Bedouin men cooked and was told they do. It was a confusing answer. At Jonas' urging I let the question drop. I suspect it is some sort of cultural thing that is getting in the way of them making a good profit and outsiders to get to experience more of the culture through food.

The Bedouin were extremely polite, courteous and good hosts. Unfortunately, the silence of the desert was nice but a bit too boring with no internet. Adam, please stop rolling your eyes. I did enjoy it but I couldn't have taken too much of it. The Bedouin did have some crazy (literally, I believe) English 'perma traveling' lady in her fifties or so. She had joined the Bedouin camp somehow (possibly without their permission) and was working there to get a free place to live, much like I did in Georgia. When I first met her, she literally had a bit of froth on one side of her mouth. It set the tone for all of my dealings with her. My host, Eghab said "Perhaps I will kill her in five days." I replied "Five days is too long." One of us was joking.

When I discovered that my new traveling companions were going back to Akaba - and that I'd had enough rocks and sand to last me I jumped at the chance to go with them.

They dropped me at the border to Israel then drove off to return their rented car. I took the long walk across the deserted border outpost by myself - little knowing the pain that awaited me.



JORDAN

Bottled water is available everywhere and is fairly cheap.

Jordans are very educated - many of them speak English.

According to a nice lady I met named Kathrin, women traveling alone in Jorden have no problems.

The Jordan dinar is at a fixed rate with the USD. $1.4 USD = 1 JOD. Because the rate is fixed, it tells me that it would be worth less than a rat meat taco outside of Jordan - get it changed earlier rather than later.



AMMAN JORDAN

Amman's old town is one of those that would take a day or two for getting the layout of as well as seeing everything they've got. They have a fortress on top of a hill as well as a Roman theater. I went to see the theater because that was not made on top of a fucking tall hill.



TRAVELERS TIPS

Always take a business card for whatever restaurant you are offered. You can always throw them out later. Not taking a business card may mean you are unable to easily find that restaurant again.

Lie to customs inspectors habitually, especially if you can use the disclaimer "I misunderstood your (horrible) English. The customs inspectors are wanting a neat, pat answer to their questions, not the truth. Always make it sound as though you have a set - somewhat tight - schedule and rare interested in sticking to it. This is what the majority of people have and it's what they're expecting. Give them what they expect.

Although it has been stated numerous times in different places, it bears repeating again - if yo are wanting to visit a lot of the middle east, do NOT get an Israel stamp on your passport. In fact, if you are crossing that border, Egypt will also offer to stamp other pieces of paper. Yes, you get to fill out at least part of another form but it is that or spend a bunch of money and time to get a new passport. Always remember to ask for this!

Long shirts and pants are not just for modesty. Unless you enjoy feeling hordes of very persistent flies walking around on your arms and legs, wear long sleeves and long pants. Really.



TRAVELER'S LORE

Jonas (the multi-lingual German guy) had done a lot of traveling in various ways recently. He assured me that traveling through Israel would be very preferable to taking the ship from Akaba to Newava I had originally envisioned. Fortunately, I listened to him. What happened later (see narrative) made this information very useful. By much shorter, I am meaning over half of a day with various inexplicable delays and such. The one to two hour times given on the schedule are what we call a 'lie'.



PHILOSOPHY

When did we move from a culture of people who spoke to each other into that of slaves for the television?

What the hell are people thinking with cell phones? When ever they have a loud ring tone that goes off seemingly forever? This is because they need to look at the phone prior to answering it - as if they are not going to answer it. We all know they're going to. They're stalling. They are hoping that somehow everyone else will break into spontaneous dance at their sucky song and make the person with the cell phone the new king or queen of the moment. That is what they hope will happen. Everyone else forced to listen to their music thinks they are an inconsiderate dick with shitty taste in music.



BEDOUIN CUSTOMS

When you are in a Bedouin camp enjoying their hospitality, if you put down your coffee it means that you want something from them and they will give it to you. This is usually used as a means for the right young man to ask for a daughter's hand in marriage. I'm not sure what else it could be used for but I'm betting they don't serve coffee lightly. Lots and lots of tea seems more common.

Family is the most important thing to the bado. A large family is considered to be a 'strong family'.

Before modern times, goats and camels were the wealth of the tribe.

The best thing about being a bado is respect and honesty.

I had asked our bado host Eghab 'What is the one thing I should tell others about the bado?' After some careful thought he replied "In fifty years, there will be no bado living in tents. The culture is disappearing." I believe this is a sad thing. Most of the bado encampments you can go to today are just for tourists. If the bado way of life interests you, see it while you can.

In the village of 1000 Bedouin near Wadi Rum, about 90 of them make their living through tourism.



OTHER TID BITS OF INFORMATION PICKED UP

Mohammed the Prophet is from Saudi Arabia.



GERMANY

According to Jonas, if you'd like to get a strong impression of Germany, visit Berlin. Lots of people have immigrated to and become part of the community.



COSTS

Taxi from Akaba to Wadi Rum direct, 40-50 JOD

The sandals I'd had the guys buy me in Georgia had really started to tear up my feet. I've decided to put them into semi retirement as 'shower sandals' because many of the showers I've gone to are just that fucking scary. I purchased new sandals in Amman - they started at 17 JOD, I bargained down to 12 JOD.

Lunch - hummus, irba (I forgot what that is), falafel and water, 3.5 JOD

Mailing two of my note books to Jana (yes, Jana you should expect a package from Jordan) - 14.3 JOD. Registered is 15.3 JOD but they couldn't explain to me what that was and I needed a return address in Jordan which I didn't have.

Tea on Jordanian bus (which they forgot to collect and I forgot to pay), .4 JOD.

Taxi from Akaba to Israel: 4 JD

Taxi from Israel border crossing at Jordan to the border crossing into Egypt, 50 sheckles (ILS).

Keefta (head wrap), 8 JOD

At Bedouin camp, three 1.5 liter bottles of water, 1 JOD. Good price indeed. Drink lots.

Israel: 50 ILS to drive across Israel between Jordan and Egypt in a cab. 101 ILS to leave the country. I've often wondered - if you can't come up with the money to leave the country, do they force you to become a citizen?

PREEMPTIVE CONSIDERATION

WHERE ARE THE PICTURES?

If you are new (or haven't been paying attention) be sure to click on the titles of the blogs to get taken to the photobucket of where ever I am.

Also, if you go here, you can see a column down on the right - search that for various country pictures you may have missed.



THE PLAN

Currently, I am going to be staying in Sevastopol until Saturday then I will return to Odessa. No boats appear to leave from the harbor in Sevastopol any more... When I am in Odessa, I will cool my heals for a couple days. On Tuesday, I will purchase a ticket (you can't do it before due to public holiday) and on Wednesday I will be on a boat for the real recently war torn, Russia invaded Georgia. The boat ride across the Black Sea should take about three days. I'm planning on staying there for three months, assuming I can live cheaply. I've heard it is about the cheapest place I can live and I need to work on saving some money. We'll see how I do on that.

It's annoying to me - and it will be to everyone else I contacted on Couch Surfing that I'm going to have to delay my plans on getting to Istanbul. The current plan is less nifty for right now but I think makes sense financially. I need to try to recoup some of the funds that got blasted through in Western Europe.

Before I leave this country, I need to get the last of my Ukrainian money changed into Euros because I suspect that in other countries, Ukrainian money will be as welcomed as a two tone fart during a formal dinner.

I also need to get a English-Georgian phase book. I suspect I will have to wait till I get to Georgia to find this.



GMO IS GOOD!

This nifty picture brought to you by Genetically Modified Organisms. And just remember, that probably includes you...



CURRENT STATE OF AFFAIRS IN THE FORMER EAST GERMANY AREA

I was talking to three nice ladies from Germany who were telling me about the current state of affairs there.

They are in this picture, on the left. From left to right, Karina, Jana, Bettina. (The couple pictured on the right are Lelde and Kristfan who I was fortunate enough to spend the day with at the Khan's palace). I was told in the 'former East Germany' area the population is 'becoming older' because the young folks are going west to get higher paying jobs. Jobs in the east pay less than the same job in the west. Afterward, the conversation moved to such eclectic topics as 'atomic mushrooms' and 'atomic cherry'.



TRAVELER'S LORE

Adam was kind enough to give me some good tips for the type of travel I am doing

Be aware of the people around you. If cleaning is going on in another part of the house, at least ask if they would like you to move. If it's a couch surfing thing (as opposed to a hostel), volunteer to help.

Respect the space. A lot of areas - especially in Europe - seem (to me, anyway) to be pretty confined. If people are needing to eat, at least offer to move your stuff you have spread out, rather than making them work around it.

Few people will actually ask you to move - but they will stew about it.

Leave a small footprint.

Think about how you're impacting the situation. Do little things like put shoes where less people will have to smell them, hide your underwear and things that nobody wants to see.

Be preemptively considerate.

Good advice for getting along with people - especially if they are kind enough to let me stay at their home for a time.



COSTS

Train ticket from the train hub (1-2 hours away from where I am) back to Odessa - 111 UAH.



THIS IS UKRAINE!

So I am sitting in TIU Front Page Hostel in Sevastopol (TIU means 'this is Ukraine', in case you didn't make the connection) and the electricity blew. It took awhile but Adam and I (mostly Adam - but I was helping, damnit!) tracked down the problem. If you are an electrician, check out these lovely jury rigged wires - under the sink - directly under dripping water.

This is the general view of what it looked like though you can't see all of the water and moisture.


You see the gray pipe in the upper left? That is the GAS. I'm not kidding. Also, keep in mind that these pictures were taken after various explosive chemicals were removed from under the sink.


This brown piece of shit with weird fluff (read as 'tinder') stuck to it? Hand made by someone who (according to Adam) didn't have a clue what they were doing.


Keep in mind that getting an electrician in Ukraine is seen as a wasteful, needless expense. Even if it means wiring your house to act like a bomb. This sort of thing helps make Ukraine the 'adventure destination' it is today!

Adam told me that calling someone and asking them to fix it would result in nothing but wasting time. Plus, he could do a better job - and he certainly cared more about the result than they would have. So he patched it up as best he could...

And this is the fixed version. He added a multi-outlet that has it's own fuse.


Unfortunately, it continued to pop the fuse. Trial and error showed the guilty culprit to be - the hot water heater. Yes, delicious morning showers will be a thing of the past until (and unless) the land lady comes out to get it fixed somehow.

We'll see what happens.



RUB IT IN, GOD

For the second time in less than a week, more marching bands have gone by where I am staying. Not just one, but many. Sadly, they don't seem to do them well in this town. They haven't discovered the 'joy of floats'. They just have some guys with instruments and someone leading them with a stick playing military music. Even the small children who ran out to see what was up ran back in from being bored with the plethora of marching bands to go back to playing with sticks in the dirt.

That's really a big hint - if small kids don't like your marching band, load back up in the truck and get the heck out of there, you have failed.

Germany, the Quickening

GERMANS

They are 'egg shell people'. In other words, you have to get through the shell they are kind, generous and nice folks. But you have to get through that shell. Unfortunately, from the way I am dressed people seem to believe I am homeless. I guess the homeless people around here dress up pretty good. Sucktastic. You wouldn't believe the looks I get when I am trying to be polite and say "Excuse me, can you help me (I am looking for X)." I've started saying, "Where is the (subway) please?" instead so they don't tune me out or whatever.

A good example of this is when Pete and I went to a fairly upscale clothing store to get Pete a nice hat. The guy at the store waited for me to speak German to him for awhile then revealed he spoke English better than I.



GERMAN LANGUAGE

The range of my German language skills is rated anywhere from 'shitty' (Austin) to 'excellent' (Germans in Germany). I suspect they (the Germans) are being generous because everyone (younger generation) seems to speak English. I think they are just grateful I put in the effort. The need to actually learn to speak German (in Germany) has dropped substantially in the last twenty five years. The last time I was here, the attitude was more along the lines of "You are in Germany, you should speak German." It has shifted to "I am educated, of course I speak English." I still hold that if you want to get on with the natives (Germans) well, you need to make the effort to at least master a few of the simple phrases.



GERMANY

Despite the screaming idiots outside (they didn't bother Pete) we decided to renew the room. It was 90 euros (one night for two people) when I did so. I also checked on a price for a single person room, 50 euros. You save a bit of money traveling with a friend. Also, when you get your room and present a ticket at the bar, you get your choice of a free shot of: Teachers, whiskey, tequila and Jaeger. Liam the Tasmanian the bar tender does a good job. He is traveling around the world bar tending. It seems to me a good way to do it. I think it's kind of interesting the people you meet who are doing things like that out on the road. I admire anyone who is able to break the bonds of 'what normal people do' (school, work, death) to get some adventure.

If you are wanting to extend your stay in the same room you had previously, you may not be able to stay in the same room. It may have been booked to someone else for the next day. I didn't have that problem but if I did, I'm able to just walk to the next building and book there where I'm at. I still like the idea of staying a night to see how you like it however. If you are going to something with a high amount of people (however) like Oktoberfest you'll want to book it all at once.

Watching the young beer swilling hooligans that come to this hostel to party, I keep thinking 'why the fuck didn't you go to Amsterdam instead?' It is only 8 hours away by train or they could have flown there for approximately the same cost and gone completely out of their minds. Idiots.

Remember Thomas from Amsterdam? (No? Go back and read the Amsterdam blog stuff you lazy bastards.) We had talked to him there and agreed to meet him in Marienplatz (Munich old city square, big tourist spot) at noon. He was there spot on time while we were watching the Glockenspiel do it's little dance.

Edit courtesy of Pete! Before we went on (to the next paragraph) Thomas took us to have a traditional Bavarian food, 'white sausages' and showed us how to eat them. White sausages are served floating in hot water within a covered pot, presumably to keep them warm. You remove the sausage from the bowl with some sort of tongs. The knife is then used to slit the skin and you pull it off of the sausage rather like a condom. The sausage is then placed in the mouth followed by some 'bretzen' (piece of the giant pretzel). Sweet or spicy sauce can be added as well.

Thomas introduced us to his 'gay family' at - you guessed it a 'gay bar'. The owner is an Austrian named Wolfgang K. He's owned the bar for eighteen years. If you're in Munich and want to visit the 'fireman's bar' it's called Bar Zur Feuerwache, Blumenstr 21 a 80331 Munchen. Wolfgang gave Pete a membership card. I think he likes him.



ARMY BASE CHALLENGE

As those who know me pretty well, I use to work on a US Army base back in the early '90's. They closed it shortly after I left the army. They probably said "Well, if Logan isn't here any more, fuck it." That's my guess anywhere.

The internet had a hand drawn map someone put up. I talked to the nice hostel lady and she figured out which stop on the subway I needed to get based on that information.

While we were wandering around, both Pete and I felt an urgent need to visit the restroom. Possibly due to the wide variety of 'beer gardens' in the neighborhoods. [A beer will cost you about 4-5 euros. Anyone who tells you different doesn't know where to drink.] Some of the places we checked in claimed (lied) that they didn't have a restroom. We eventually found an Italian restaurant that let us use theirs. I put this part of the story in as it is foreshadowing. We found the base and wandered around with Logan making comments about how most of the things were different twenty five years ago (read as 'old man babbling'). The main building I use to work in has either vanished or they've gotten very good at hiding four story buildings. I also found the gate (still standing, built do last) that a buddy of mine lost his pinkie on when he tried to scale it to go visit a girl.

Then it was time to attempt to find 'the Greek restaurant'. It's about twenty meters square and two stories high, cunningly hidden in a residential area. We went around talking to various people who gave conflicting, contrary directions. We eventually came across a group of old men (who naturally only spoke German) but not only did they know the waiters name (Vacilli)and Christos (owner) but remembered the restaurant and gave us directions. Impressive. The building is still there, but it has been replaced with an Italian restaurant. Found it! The inside looks a lot more cluttered and smaller than it use to. Pete thinks it could be twenty five years of fond, selective memories. I suppose he could be right. For those interested, the former Greek restaurant address is Hohenschwangamhof 19.

At the restaurant, the lady who was waitressing was from Pula (Croatia). It is one of the countries I'm interested in going to and I remembered they had the sixth largest Roman Colosseum (still standing). She said she'd read the blog and drop me a something in the comments section when I'm getting ready to head there.



PRICES TO PRAGUE FROM GERMANY

If you take the Czech student bus at bad, fucked up times it's 35 euros + 8 euros for your second (or big bag). Read as 43 euros. If you take a German train, it ranges from 63 euros (which we got) up to 90 euros (all of the prices are per adult) depending on when you travel - different times of the day.



TRAVELERS TIPS

You want to store your toiletries in a clear bag for both TSA to root through as well as to easily find stuff. Rather than have some fancy zipper bag as I use to, use a zip lock freezer bag. Cheap and easy to replace.

Liquids, powders and such. Fucking put them in separate plastic bags or get ready to clean all of your shit and the interior of your bag/backpack.

Record 'white noise' on your MP3 player (whatever kind you like) just in case you need it. When the people are making noise and stuff you might want it to drown it out.



GRACE

“By "guts" I mean, grace under pressure” - Hemingway. Giving a shout out to a fellow traveler I met Grace N. She is traveling around by herself and has gone some places (on an American passport) I have hesitated to go. Like Egypt. Really recently. I wanted to send a shout out and say how much I admired that sort of guts. [And put in a quote that had both her name in it and something about guts - for the slow of thinking.]

Grace is doing her own version of 'round the world in 80 days' - but not like the lame movie. It sounds excellent and I hope she finds ways to keep traveling as long as she wants to.



WEIRD SHIT

Pete found something weird and wonderful. Good stuff.



WHERE NEXT?

Prague, bitches! Jana is going to meet up with us at the Prague train station (five hour ride, prices above) tomorrow afternoon. I'm looking forward to my first 'please don't ass rape me for money' country.

Germany!

INTRO

It's currently 11:47 PM local (German) time and I'm in the lobby. Pete has crashed out upstairs in the room. Well, I assume he's in the room. He was pretty tired. Me, I'm still excited to be up and doing stuff. Update, I was up at six something. I'm back to typing while he sleeps.



GERMANY

Tickets from Amsterdam to Germany - cost 120 Euro. Fuck the internet, go straight to the ticket booth people and be nice to them. The nice lady found us a sleeper car to Munich that was literally half price than the one listed on the internet. I take this as confirmation of my opinion that talking to people is always better than looking on the internet.

I think they call the type of cabin we had a 'couchette' - I wanted to say a couple words on that as it's information I'd have liked having previously. Here's the set up. You can get (generally speaking) either a four berth or six berth. Neither will give you enough room to sit up on - unless you are female or short. At about six foot tall, I couldn't. They will fill up the 'berth' (room). It might not all be at the same stop and you may have people coming and going at all hours. If you're thinking you will get some sleep in this room, well, you might snag a few hours but if you're a light sleeper forget it. Also, there are no other seats you can move to sit if you can't sleep. You are stuck where you are. Period. If the conductor says "Nobody else is booked" (as ours did) be advised that people can still book later. The last bit I will say is always book a bottom bunk. It is much easier to get into and out of; I had real problems with the top bunk my ticket showed, told the conductor I had back pain and he said just sleep on the bottom regardless. The top bunk is also smaller and much more warm than the bottom bunk.

Something that struck me as very curious indeed - there were no border controls between Germany and the Netherlands. None at all. No showing of passports, having luggage searched, etc. I'm sure some dirty hippy will read this and attempt to smuggle a lot of dope into Germany feeling they just can't stay in Amsterdam. Good luck to you.

While we were going through the German countryside, I pointed out the very steep roofed buildings and explained them. The roofs are built that way for two reasons. First is to have the heavy snows fall off rather than crushing the roof into the building. The second reason is Germans hate roofers. Often, they will gather together, get some beers and call a roofer to repair a home and take bets on when he falls off. In this way, the 'beer garden' was developed. This is also why Germany is very supportive of the 'Schengen Agreement' - more access to new roofers.

I'd like a photoshopped picture of a guy falling off of a steep roof while several people in traditional German garb lift their glasses in toast. That would be nice.



JAEGER HOSTEL

We were going to a different hostel that we'd found on the internet (Wombat) but ended up checking into "Munich's Jaeger's". There are some very friendly people working the desk but the lobby is full of young, screaming kids who seem to be having their first experience getting rip roaring drunk. Fortunately, when we checked in, I had specified a quiet room so ours is on the fourth floor. We'll see if it's quiet tonight. I am looking forward to one AM (if I am still up) when they shut off the loud music and hopefully send the kids next door to continue the party till five AM. If you are into partying, the drinks are 5 euros (mixed or beer) at the bar. The drink amount seems generous. I am drinking rum and cokes as I am typing this. If it seems a bit erratic, blame it on that.

For two people, one night in the Jaeger is 78 euros. This seems pretty close to average for that price. For those interested, here is their contact information: Senefelderstr. 3 - 80336 Muenchen, Tel, 49 (0) 89 555 281, www.jaegershotel.de I will say that the room is the most 'modern' of any we've had thus far. Multiple outlets and such. The only thing it really lacks is large table space to lay our your stuff on so you can sort through it and repack stuff.

In the morning, they serve an 'all you can eat' breakfast for five euros. Between not liking the taste of much and diarrhea, I'd suggest seeking your breakfast elsewhere.

The internet here is annoying. It doesn't seem to be a strong enough signal to get from the fourth floor. They promised to look in on it. I think there is as much chance of that as me running into several attractive women who want to take me out to party hard and want to buy all of my drinks. Also, the internet likes to log you out every hour or so. Very annoying.

After spending a night in the Jaeger, I am here to tell you that asking for a 'quiet room' isn't enough. Hell, I even did it in German. The bar in the hotel was open till about 1 AM so we got to hear the idiots caterwauling till a little after then. When I first went up there, I thought Pete had left the double glazed window open but it was closed.

Unlike Gummy Sue in London ("You pay now!") the Jaeger has a place you can store your luggage that seems secure. Again, I advise bringing your own combination lock. Not a key lock!



MUNICH LODGING

If you are traveling to Munich and don't mind where you stay, there are a ton of hostels within easy walking of the Hauptbahnhoff (main train station). Unless there is some special event, I wouldn't bother checking in - just show up.

Bring towels! They are included within the double room (a double room has two beds) but otherwise you pay an amazing 10 euros per towel.

When we first got to the Jaeger, we discovered that they had a tour of one of the things on our list (the Neuschwanstein Castle) as a tour. Leaving in a half hour of our arrival. So, we got off of a ten (?) hour train ride from Amsterdam to get onto a two hour bus/train ride here. Joy and happiness. The Neuschwanstein Castle tour was 35 euros not including the 9 euro admission price to the castle. Their cost took care of the guide as well as the bus, train, train transport there and the bus, train, train transport back. You might be able to save a few euros doing it yourself (as well as avoid other tourists) but for peace of mind, I'd go with the tour. I thought that Adam our tour guide (see various pictures) did a nice job. From what he told us, there are pretty stringent rules and requirements in Germany to become a guide. It sounds like a huge pain in the ass that doesn't pay well to me but he seems to enjoy it. His previous job was racing boats which he still does but not as often as he would like. We were interested in inviting him out for a beer and to get his story but his girlfriend (the reason he came to Germany) apparently had other plans for him.

The Neuschwanstein Castle tour reminded me of two things. First, why I avoid other tourists like the fucking plague. If there is some loud annoying person around, it should be me. I don't want competition. Second, anything on hills or mountains is simply not worth seeing. My leg felt like it was going to fall off. I kept accusing the tour guide of being part of the international cabal that is attempting to get me 'more fit' through taking me on a series of death marches and stairs.

On the way down, some Germans I met coming up the mountain said (in German) "Take this way down, it is shorter!" Like a fool I did that. Shorter meant straight down. Muscles that hadn't been used in years got a workout. More people of the cabal no doubt, cleverly timing their ascent.



MISCELLANEOUS EVENTS

I shocked Pete by walking while smoking. Usually, it's one or the other. Perhaps I'm getting into a bit better shape despite the smoking. I know that I've cut out needless snacking (M&M's and such) since I've gotten here. I am currently too busy.

I've also noticed that (up till the time of this writing) every day on this trip - every single day - has been absolutely blessed with extraordinary weather. Every day is sunny, blue skies and warm. I've been wearing nothing but my sweater around. Only a couple times have I felt the need to wear my windbreaker over it.

Departing Amsterdam

INTRO

A lot of this may strike you as 'stream of consciousness' - it is, a bit. I'm assembling notes on scraps of paper as well as in a new book. I've bought a new small book to write notes in much like Pete has. Copying Pete's good ideas and all.



TRAVELER'S TIPS

Falling into 'my money is worth their money'. When I got 250 euros out of the bank, it cost me $358. However, all of the prices are in Euros and you have euros so you begin to think of them as dollars. Hence, you think you've got 250 dollars. Not true! In Western Europe, plan on double the money you thought you'd need because the dollar is amazingly weak against foreign currencies. You have been warned.

Another traveler's tip that I've never seen written in any of the travel experts guides that Pete is completely responsible for coming up with: Bring a power strip in addition to the power adapter. Many of the rooms you will stay in attempt to limit your access to electricity. By having a power strip with multiple plugs in it, you can charge up all of your gizmo's at once.



JANA FROM THE CZECH REPUBLIC POSES IN FRONT OF HER FAVORITE RESTAURANT OF ALL TIME PS: I know it was you that put my hat into the fridge...

For more Amsterdam photos, be sure to look here.



SOME LAST THOUGHTS ON AMSTERDAM

Amsterdam by day vs by night is very different.

In Amsterdam, getting a bed in a dorm is a scary thing because you've got a lot of people you don't know that you will be bunking with. Chances of them trying drugs they are not familiar with and such are very high. If possible, go with some friends (you'll need them if you try 'sandwiches') and get a room. Much safer feeling.

Tourists on bikes - natives feel they are reckless. I didn't see many of them. According to some natives I talked to, they said the tourists looked 'at the handlebars' - I am guessing the tourists are not use to cobblestones and are looking at them right next to the bike's front wheel. Given that everything within the city center (where you will probably be on your first trip) is within walking distance - even for Logan - you really don't need a 'it will probably get stolen' bike - just walk. Chances of getting into an (or several) accidents on a bike in this chaotic city are high.

I talked to several natives of Amsterdam as well as several people who moved there (due to the Schengen Agreement) and all of them said they really 'didn't mind' the tourists. The tourists pretty much stay in the city center and the natives are pretty laid back. Amazingly laid back. If the city of Amsterdam had a personality type, it would be Phlegmatic.

One of the natives I spoke with was a retired Amsterdam native named Hans. I had asked him 'what is best about Amsterdam'. [I know you can't wait till I am in your country and ask you that...] He said he liked the culture the best. It was one of the first places where musicians and such really started the avant garde atmosphere. He also said that as a result of European cities becoming homogenized that many people are starting to swing the other way - national pride and such is making a reemergence. More people are wanting to express their cultural roots for both national and regional identities.

Pete and I had placed a bet (1 euro) on whether Jana would still be around after her bus was suppose to depart. Pete won and from her posting on the HC boards she made it back OK. I thought for sure we'd be saying 'well shit, lets just take her to Germany then.' I was wrong. Startling, I know.

The Dutch love to smoke. I mean, really love it. It is illegal to smoke in bars in Amsterdam. However, some bars allow smoking anyway. Here's how they do it. You ask for an ashtray and pay a euro for 'the fine'. Should the bar get fined for allowing smoking, they pay over that fine money. Otherwise, I suppose they just keep it in a kitty. I think that's a pretty good method. Personally, I'm OK with having bars that allow smoking and those that don't. If you don't want smoke in your bar, fucking go to a bar that doesn't allow it. If you don't care or smoke go to one that allows it. It's really a 'no brainer' as far as I'm concerned.

In fact, on rail lines, the Netherlands has an area marked 'rookzone'. This is a 'smokers zone'. There is a 'butt disposal device' surrounded by a red border. You can smoke within the red border.

The Dutch. There is a famous quote from Goldmember: Nigel Powers: "All right Goldmember. Don't play the laughing boy. There's only two things I hate in this world. People who are intolerant of other people's cultures and the Dutch." Groovy quote just because it's a real bastard. My opinion on the Dutch folks that I've met - friendly and laid back. I think when I was there, I was a lot more concerned about my fellow tourists that I encountered. They (the tourists) were drugged out of their minds and partying with a savage intensity. I think one of the quotes I got from "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is by Raoul Duke: "One of the things you learn from years of dealing with drug people, is that you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug. Especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eye." The Dutch themselves (when you can find them in a tourist infested town) are kind, laid back and tolerant. A real pleasure.

You see some weird shit in the city center of Amsterdam - for example, groups of school children getting herded through the red light district. I'm not sure what they're meant to learn but I'm guessing the Dutch schools have a more comprehensive education than I got.

The central portion of Amsterdam is NOT Amsterdam. Amsterdam is NOT the Netherlands. Don't confuse this - they are all very different. I don't have money to go and investigate other places within Amsterdam. I've got to go east so my money has some value.

The last day I was in Amsterdam, Pete and I got shaves from a 'Turkish style' barber. I just had my face done for 10 euros. I've got to say, the barber worked his ass off for those 10 euros. I got shaved at least four times. To have your melon done as well (as Pete did) I think it was 18 euros total. As you may have guessed, we were the only tourists in that place. The place I went to is called 'The Corner'. It is on the corner of Spuistraat and Torensteeg Centrum if you're wanting to go there.

While I was in the barber shop, they had Dutch TV on though the volume was muted. I was dubbing all of the parts. While the barber (whose English speaking level I was uncertain of) seemed to think it was very funny, I noticed that Pete was staying very still and not smiling. I'm guessing his reaction might have had something to do with the straight razor being wielded near his throat and scalp.

The way they're handling shaving now (due to the AID's epidemic) is to use a straight razor like device that they put a new razor blade into every time. It seems to be a good workaround to me.

Speaking of corners, street signs are affixed directly to the buildings - keep an eye out for this.

Not including tourists, there seem to be a whole lot (in American, 'an assload') of immigrants in Amsterdam. The ones I talked to all came for the laid back lifestyle.

Jana cried a lot when she was leaving Amsterdam and kept calling Pete 'Scarecrow' and said she was going back to Kansas. Or maybe I'm confusing that scene with a movie.

One picture I didn't get is the famous 'Dutch oven'. I'm sad inside.

I forgot to ask Jana and I'm sorry. I'm sure she will either post it in the comments or gut me like a fish. I had asked Pete what his favorite part of the 'Amsterdam experience' was. He said the ups and downs were more extreme in Amsterdam. I'd have to agree though I think my favorite part (and least favorite part) was the whole surreal nature of the trip.

Pete made an excellent quote: "America made the spork so they wouldn't have to expend additional energy changing eating utensils." Damn right.

In a train station in Utrecht Centreal, you can find two Starbucks within 10-20 meters of each other. Really. Ask Pete if you don't believe me.

Hopefully, that should finish off Holland. It was an interesting trip.



READER QUESTIONS

Jamas had asked what we'd done on phones. The answer - nothing. Absolutely nothing. Jana's phone still doesn't work properly, Pete's doesn't send SMS messages right and Logan owns no phone. The way I am looking at it, I will only be traveling with Pete for a couple more weeks - after that, trying to own a phone would be problematic with all of the countries I am intending to visit.

Jim Morris is stalking me in Amsterdam

Hanging out in the hostel with Pete and Jana. It's about 11:30 in the evening and the nightlife of Amsterdam is just now getting under way. I will be joining it in a short time for some elicit activities.

Probably.

Well, I ate part (not all) of a 'space something or other'. I'm sure someone will figure it out. Felt good from it but I am glad I didn't try more. I didn't want to risk the same sort of reaction as I had to too much 'sandwich' before. I'm guessing that some out there are saying 'why try again at all?' Well, when you get bucked off of the horse hard, you've got to get back in the saddle.

Or so they tell me.

I've eaten the Dutch version of some foods. The ice cream is nice but if you miss it you won't slit your wrists. Don't bother with the French fries - they are exactly the same in USA. If you are part of the Ugandan readership, sure, try the fries.



MADAM T's

I forgot what the full name is - it is a famous wax museum. It was like 50ish euros to get the three of us in. It was OK and I did the 'surprise buttsex' pose with some of the wax figure celebrities as well as getting some pictures. You won't cry if you miss this one.



MEETING MORE TRAVELERS

We were hanging out in a pub (England apparently corrupted us) where we met up with Thomas, Natasha and Constantine. They are all Germans which delighted me as I got to use some of my extremely limited German to help talk with them.

We are even going to be meeting up with Thomas in Munich.

A little on each of these folks:

Natasha was fairly quiet, perhaps being that she said her English was pretty limited. She seems to have a very wry sense of humor.

Thomas is a gay party animal. He laughs often, loud and easily. Good stuff. It will be an interesting trip in Munich. We're going to try to meet up with him on Sunday at noon in Marienplatz. Marienplatz is the old town square. Apparently they have some sort of monument (the name of which Pete has written down) across from the Rothause (government building).

Constantine is the deep thinker. He has no interest in smoking (anything) and enjoys good deep conversations. His English is a lot better than he thinks it is.

I like all three of them. It will be an interesting trip to Munich.



LATE NIGHT AT THE HOSTEL

I'm back at the hostel. The current night porter is a black guy who is stoned so badly his eyes are very bloodshot and he has difficulty understanding anything. I was listening to a Rasta song about 'crapping my pants' - I'm not kidding - before he finally shut off the music.

Amsterdam has done quite a job getting me to the 'ragged edge' and keeping me there. The whole stay here has been completely surreal from the first time I tried a 'sandwich'. I'm thinking I had a microcosm of what Hunter S Thompson had indisputably in a 'macrocosm' if you take my meaning. [I apologize to people reading this who English is not their first language but some things you just need to talk indirectly about. Again, what happens in Amsterdam (mostly) stays in Amsterdam.

For those that can decipher this part of something Amsterdam is famous for, S and F is 50 euros. If you can't, it's better that you not. Lets just say that it's done with all of the passion and intensity of changing a tire. I don't think it's a good value but as they say 'your mileage may vary'.

Personally, I'm not really into the whole 'Amsterdam experience'. It's interesting but it seems that most of the people are a bit edgy. Maybe it's just me. A lot of times, your not sure if the person approaching you is going to beg you for a cigarette or money, bid you good day, go crazy, offer to sell you drugs which are illegal even here or do something else. The added effect of drugs, alcohol and sex is a randomizer in normal behavior I'm honestly not comfortable with. Combine with my natural fairly high levels of paranoia. Not good.

A lot of people comment on how 'relaxed' the city is and such. I don't get that at all. Since I've gotten here, I've been on edge. Perhaps I know too much of the undercurrent. To much about how things like human trafficking, drugs, pickpocketing, etc work to really ever be at my ease here. Between keeping an eye on the people, you have to watch out for cars, streetcars and bicycles. All that while trying to be friendly to people and such causes a bit of stress.

From the heavy food and beer to the hard working Germans, Munich has in the past been a very 'grounding' city to me. I am anxious to be away from this 'sandwich induced city' and back to something more solid underfoot.

We'll see how that works out.



TOMORROW

We're going to attempt to get Jana onto her bus. It seems a rather dicey affair in that the ticket pretty much specifies a parking lot where the bus is suppose to come. If we can't get her on the bus, we may drag her to Germany rather than leave her in Amsterdam. She can then see just how bad my German really is.

Later that night, Pete and I (possibly Jana if her plans blow up) will be taking the night train to Munich. I'm not sure where we're staying as I seem to have misplaced all of my notes I took on it, but I'm sure we'll be fine.

I'm really looking forward to getting a frame pack (and my tooth probably pulled) in Czech Republic. It will allow me to bring more clothing while I'm traveling.



TRAVELERS TIPS - AMSTERDAM

When I get to a country that has inexpensive clothing that can be made, I'm going to work on replacing my sweat pants. They are really ill suited to this kind of traveling. I'd suggest canvas - like khakis. With all of the walking I'm doing I'm wearing through these fast. Also, they're not very good in any sort of humid climate. Amsterdam is a bit humid.

Another travelers tip - if you get a pouch that velcros onto your leg, you will be amazed at the smell of it after three days. The normal 'hang under your clothing' pouches you'll need to wash after a week or so. I don't think I'll be able to have a laundry service deal with these sadly.

If you're going to partake of 'sandwiches', I'd suggest (at least for the first time) having someone with you that isn't partaking. The sandwiches here are very strong and having everyone in your group staggering around freaking out in an unfamiliar foreign city can lead to bad consequences.

The main train station in Amsterdam will be your guiding light. It's easy to find and very large; it will be your road mark to find your way back to where you're staying. I recommend staying near it. There are all kinds of places in (presumably) all sorts of price ranges nearby.

If you're looking for the Red Light District, it is SE of the main train station. Also, don't have any concern over asking the natives where it is. Little old men will be delighted to point it out to you as will any native here - if you can find them. It's not nearly as hard as in London but there are a lot of tourists here. I'm guessing that falls off dramatically outside of Amsterdam.

If you are going out, don't carry more money than you need for whatever you are doing. Hopefully, you'll figure that one out.

During the day time, you might have difficulty locating the red light district. Try after dark.

After about 1 AM on a weeknight, much of Amsterdam is shut down. Get any shopping you need to do (or services, like the laundry provider) in during the daytime up till the early evening.

Many of the restaurants are only open for a limited time but you will find plenty of others that are open when you are hungry.

Sometimes, the transportation workers go on strike. When they do, it is for part of a day and scheduled in advance. Street cars, trains and all of that shit just stops for that time. They put up notices, keep an eye out for them.



READERS

If you've got any questions or comments, feel free to submit them in the comments box.

How To Pick Up Prostitutes

HOW TO PICK UP PROSTITUTES

Found this little gem on youtube. It contains some very good information for people who are clueless. It's good stuff.

It is shocking to me just how many countries allow this. I wish I'd had researched this for the blog post 'How Much Do Prostitutes Cost In Your Country?'

Gosh, this blog is more fun than burying a hooker in the desert!

It's important to be nice to women, unless you are going to be tying them to a table later! [Or if you are Matt and need more storage space for more dead hookers...]



GERMANY

Apparently we have some readers in Germany. In their honor, we present 'the Hoff'.



MIDDLE EAST

Can you say 'powder keg'? It appears that the rioting in Egypt is spreading. The 'green movement' as it's now getting called. It's really looking as though the US is happy for the chaos as well. Did they destabilize the governments? Only time will tell.

The funny thing is that everyone says it is an uprising against corruption. Kind of. From here, quote: "Workers stood in front of the Bank Misr and shouted: "We want more money! We want more money!" Now, I'm not a political science major but I'm thinking that money was at least the spark to all of this uprising going on. It's always about the money. Corruption seems ultimately to be about money.



HOME REMEDIES

So, I managed to put a small slice into my finger while doing up some onions. It bled like a stuck pig. I consulted with a friend of mine who reassured me that hands and head wounds bleed a lot in order to freak you out. Travis is correct. We can call him Dr. Travis - he seems better than many of the doctors I've seen.

It is especially ironic as I've trained in knife fighting. Apparently, I should have trained in cooking instead.

Anyway, after running cold water onto it to clean it out, I applied a 'hick bandage' (paper towels wrapped with any kind of tape/rope around) and had to change it once. Later, I decided to apply what I call a 'Bert band-aid' to it. This involves using super glue to help seal the wound. Now, a lot of people don't know this but super glue on skin is amazingly slow to dry. I'm not sure if it ever does. So, here's a tip - clear plastic. Hopefully it will come off later. If it doesn't, well... I'm not sure. I disinfected it with alcohol then stuck it to the finger. Covered it with a band-aid. I'll let you know how it works out.

On a slightly different note, this did help to tell me that my medic kit is woefully stocked. Sadly, I just can't get more shit into my bag - it's pretty full as it is. Maybe after some of the other stuff works its way out (or I get tougher) maybe I'll get a real medic kit someday.