WINTER IS COMING

WINTERING

Had the good fortune to get to chat with Sorin last night (one of my hosts here) and he suggested a clever bit of lateral thinking.

I wish I could take credit for it but honestly, I didn't even come close to thinking of it.

From about September or October until April (when I want to be back in the USA), Europe sucks for the cold. Unless you have plenty of money and want to go to some rich people hang out like the south of France or Greece.

He suggested that I leave Europe early for somewhere else in North America. Spend time in the southern part then move north when it is time.

Later, I'm going to have to do some research on Mexico.

What a great scene!

Aside from 'Fun with Kidnappers' I am not sure how much it would actually cost to do Mexico. I remember it is a bit more expensive than other places in Central (nope!) and South America but they are almost guaranteed to have Mexican food.



ENCOUNTER

Exploring a town within Romania, a mother waited awkwardly for her son. Half hidden in the brush on a hillside he squatted, his bowels having taken him by surprise.

Three strides past the mother, stopping, turning and returning. She watches nervously as my bag is opened. A plastic small bundle is offered. She shakes her head. I glance at the child and offer it again. She takes it, realizing it is toilet paper, smiles.

Careful not to add to the embarrassment of the child by glancing his direction, my journey resumed, thoughts of similar within my own past - both distant and recent.



BREXIT - what's Logan's opinion?

Yes, believe it or not, I have had some Romanians ask me this.  Like I even know what country I'm in half the time.

First point:  The day after Brexit was voted 'lets leave the EU', the second most popular Google search term in the UK was 'what is the EU'.   Hilarious.   That is one of the funny sad things - like a clown falling into a wood chipper and his monkey turns it on.

Second point:  Logan thinks (may or may not be right) that much of it (Brexit) was about racism, nationalism and possibly some other -ism's.  Logan doesn't think much of people who like -ism's.  When the BPS (their money) went down to the lowest rate since 1985, I'm thinking "I wish I had more money so I could buy some of theirs".

Third point:  If the BPS dropped down to where it was 1 to 1 with the USD (who knows - Logan could get lucky and the UK taken with 'surprise buttsex') it would make an affordable vacation there for Logan.  Hell, I could even afford to get Matthew drunk.

Fourth point:  Enough people are now whining that they didn't know what the vote was for, didn't realize that their vote counted and wishing they could go back in time that I wonder if they will have another vote.  Keep voting till you get the result you want?

Last point:  Will one country leaving the EU cause the rest of them to fall out?  I doubt it.  I know a lot of people seem really paranoid about that but it makes you wonder what kind of idiots think that things that are together will always stay together.  Just because the USA has been around for 200 years, do I think it will be around forever?  That is ignorant.  If it survives another hundred (less if Trump is elected) that would be impressive.  Things fall apart and become other things.  That's just how it seems to work.



GOSH LOGAN, WHY ARE SOME COUNTRIES POOR?

The sad thing is that the beggar in this pic is dressed better than I do.  I'll have to steal his clothing later...

When a country is poor, there are usually reasons.  Fairly obvious ones.

Most often it is high levels of corruption coupled with low levels of education.  Anyone thinking politicians want educated voters haven't really figured out that stupid people count the same.  Sadly.

When I was in the USA, I worked in purchasing/supply chain/logistics for about a dozen (?) years.  Here's roughly how it works in the USA.  When you buy something in a store, it gets scanned.  In most countries, this tells the person how much you owe and computes the change they should give you - as otherwise they'd have no clue.  In the USA, it goes a step further and marks off unit(s) sold into a data base.  This data base also has levels for reordering - often automated.  When they get down to five units left, reorder.  One unit left, emergency rush reorder.

Because in the USA, businesses want your damn money.  As much of it as they can get.

Sadly, the same thing doesn't take place in non 'westernized' countries in the rest of the world.  If stock gets sold, it seems to rely on them going completely out of stock and a manager to eventually wander out of their office - possibly lost and confused - to see the gaping hole in the inventory before maybe thinking they should reorder that shit some day.

A lot of the behaviors I've seen in retail around the world would get you instantly fired in the USA.  Horsewhipped too, if they could get away with it.

And that's why - despite the heat - three stores don't carry mutherfucking fans.  That's right.  I asked where they were and when they would have them in.  They explained it has been hot and they sold out a week or two ago and they didn't know when they'd get more in.

I'm always thinking "With their business practices, how in the fuck do these stores stay open?  They have to pay rent, employees, utilities and so on."  In the USA I know they'd have closed long ago and the owners would be sitting around wondering what happened.  In much of the world, I suspect leprechauns (like my buddy Matthew L. who is an evil one) of using magic to keep these places open somehow.

Fucking fans.  It is like having rain for the last few weeks and everyone having been sold out of umbrellas for the last few weeks.  Then bitching they are fucking poor.  Yeah.  It must just be one of those strange things.  You know any leprechauns?



I'M A FAN

But for me change it to "A fan at last, a fan at last - thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster I have a fan at last."  Not to take away from the great MLK but I am very thankful to have at last found a fan.

I had wandered over to the big mall (via bus) and was traipsing around there when I came across a fan.  It's 35 cm across - not huge but enough and a floor model for 'easy to trip over' features.  Immediately grabbing it, I glared about to make sure hordes of no central air peasants were about to mob me for my prize.

None were.

I scarpered.

After arriving home and removing it from the box I was sad to discover that some bright spark had chosen to save less than a dollar in packaging by making it 'some assembly required'.  I looked at the multi-lingual instructions.

Nine languages and you mutherfuckers can't be bothered to do the 'international language'?  Really?

OK.  Got to put it together in French.  Hint - I used the pictures.  Downside - not many pictures.

But fortunately only a couple of pieces to put together.  Cool.

When staying at a friends house, going through all their shit looking for tools is not cool so I gave my buddy Sorin a call.  No tools at this house.  Maybe the people at the tattoo shop downstairs.

Stunned, I hung up.

This was a huge culture shock.

In the USA, if you don't have tools and materials to make your own trebuchet (add that word to my dictionary online - why doesn't it have it?) then how will you defend yourself in the upcoming zombie apocalypse?

If you can't build one of these from things lying around your dwelling, you aren't even seen as human among zombie survivalists.

Also, pretty much every household in the USA has tools.  In some, they are the male equivalent of the little delicate china figurines that some women collect; in other homes they are penis replacements.

If you remember this, you are either an old fucker or watch too many reruns.

In homes of henpecked men they are the simple justification for having a workshop somewhere on the property they can retreat to, leaving their shrew behind.

For some law enforcement officers, they are used in the hobby that keeps them from just executing everyone.

The real mystery is always how he gets the boats OUT.  I suspect a huge secret door and tunnel.

For some men, they are not used - just bought for display in case anyone wants to see if they are real men.

Who the hell is this and why is he in my blog and what is up with his hair and crazy look?  His appearance does remind me of one of my friends though.

Some men just get tools just to masturbate over.

And I would like to point out that for LGBT people (as that is a hot topic these days) I do not believe that confines them to the Hello Kitty tool set.

Though honestly if they are decent tools (and I had a fixed abode) I'd accept them as gifts, sure.  I really don't care what the tools look like.

So...  No tools.

Screw going downstairs until I had to.  Roll your jury rig skill!  Success!  You have found things you can temporarily use as tools!

The fan was assembled.

I'm really happy about it partially because I have been keeping the place pretty closed up.  They don't  have screens (for some unknowable reason) in Europe and every time I open a window mosquitoes come to visit.

After nearly dying from one biting me, I am a bit on the paranoid side.

The fan will remain here after I leave.  Since I will be here for a month for sure (probably two - they keep urging me to stay any time I ask if they have a place in mind I can go rent) the fan will be a nice 'thanks for letting me squat at your house' gift.



BOOK REVIEW

Review on the book "1632".

The title is descriptive as it is the year the book is set in and honestly, much more creative than many of the titles I've seen. If you can search for your title on Goodreads and find it a half dozen times, here's a hint: Try harder.

Anyway, the good, bad and ugly format.

The good: I like the stories where a stalwart band of Yanks (it's always yanks - apparently other nations just don't have the gumption to get sucked back in time) get sucked back in time (like the "Islands in the Sea of Time" series  ) to 'show them how it's done'.

The bad: Unlike pretty much every other time travel book out there, nobody seems to either care or even mention (in the first book, later it's mentioned and dismissed) the whole 'might we start a really fucked up paradox by not only marrying the locals but killing several of them, starting revolutions and introducing tech a few hundred years early? Nope. Nobody even thinks about it. Mind you, I don't think it would have changed anything. Being told "You know, we should destroy all our stuff and kill ourselves so we don't potentially cause a paradox" is not something that is going to go over big with too many crowds. But you'd think someone would at least mention, speculate or possibly even fret a bit about it. For half a page even... Another problem - sometimes the book starts to sound like a dull history textbook. Once they move away from what I think the interesting part of history is (history is the stories of individual often interesting people) and onto more abstract stuff (here is a discussion of the strategic military hard points that only a history nerd with a map could follow and nobody will actually give a shit about it), you feel like you are just wading through crap to get to the interesting parts.

The ugly: Holy shit, it's like the Game of Thrones stuff. Sure, there are some people who can keep track of characters that appear every now and then but there are so many of them you end up fixating on your favorites and feeling like you're just wading through the rest. It makes me with they'd trimmed down the cast of who the story is actually told through.

In summation - I'm into the second book (strangely named 1633 - didn't see that one coming, can't wait to see what the third book is named) right now. Looking back on the first - there is some interesting stuff but you have to do some wading to get to it. Sometimes fairly deep wading. Is it historically accurate? Probably more than I care about.

5/10. Decent but not sure if I'd go back and re-read it.

Follow up - I made it up to the third book before giving up.  Some good parts but just too much bullshit to wade through to get there.



PRICES

750ml bottle of Captain Morgan Spiced Rum, 60 lei

35cm fan - about 30-40 USD - not sure.

TRUDGING THROUGH THE CARPATHIANS

UKRAINE TO ROMANIA

Though Lviv is very close to Poland, I'd gotten a very attractive offer from a friend of mine named Diana who lives in Romania to stay at one of her properties free for a month.  After that, she would help me to find a different place to stay (we both assumed I'd be bored there after one month) that I could rent for a reasonable (to Logan) price.

Worth crossing Ukraine for.

Unfortunately, many of the places in Ukraine that have web pages may make you think you've slipped back into the 1990's.  Go 'MySpace'.  Also, a lot of the information you get will be found to be inaccurate.   Sometimes wildly so.  I'm sure that if you spoke Russian (or Ukrainian - very similar for those who care) and knew the web pages to go to that you could probably get what you want.  I have seen people do it - and had flashbacks of 'dial-up' for those who are old enough to know what that is.  Or a dial tone, for that matter.  If you are too young, put it under 'things pre-internet that are best forgotten'.

So, I'd researched a bunch (while sober, even) and the internet told me to cross the border at the town of Tyachiv.

This was what we in the border crossing business call 'a lie'.

You can't cross the border there.  You can cross it about an hour east at a town called Solotvino.

This picture has nothing to do with what is being talked about.  Please ignore it.

For those who want one of those '90's style web pages with information on where the actual border crossings are for Ukraine, I direct you to this.

Even if I have to get a taxi it won't be a bad cost considering going from Lviv to Tyachiv - crossing the  entire Ukraine north to south is under 4 USD (100 UAH).

Yeah, buddy.

Thinking moving around in Romania will cost more.

My research into how to get from Tyachiv to Solotvino is not going well.  It may be one of those 'jump and figure it out when I get there'.  [Edit:  It was.]  Because I suspect there may be a few of these moments, I'm leaving earlier than necessarily needed.  And it is long past time to get out of the steadily worsening situation at the house.

To clarify my position on living with other people:  If you go to live with some friend or friends for a week, that is often a magical situation.  Wonderful.  You get to hang out and do stuff.  Once you have hit the one month mark - even if you are paying rent - shit often starts to slide downhill after that.

It may just be me.  In some respects I am a pain in the ass to live with.  I do enjoy living alone.

But visiting with people for a week - so cool.  Even if as during LHI or the European tour I stayed with several different households for a week - still cool.

But for just living?  No - fuck that - alone for me is best.

Again, nothing to do with the blog but I did listen to Stewart's autobiography recently and thought I would distract you with this image for no good reason.  And make you read shit.  Which you fell for.

LEAVING LVIV

I nearly out waited my train.   Found out the advertised track number was incorrect.

Despite asking for 'just a seat, I don't want a bed', they naturally gave me a bed.  On the top bunk.

Really.

Just looking at it, I could tell there was even less stuff to get up there with than normal.  Fortunately, the girl who had the bottom was happy to switch with me.  Note that the various conductors and such will not help you with this sort of problem.  Their view seems to be 'if you didn't want the top, why did you book it' and 'if you don't like it, you can always book another train...eventually...'.  So it is best to just find someone yourself.

She immediately identified herself as a 'Jehovah's Witness'.

I was super happy for the language barrier.

Like this weird happy Batman is happy.

Especially when I had automatically responded "I'm sorry."  Looking at devout religion as a form of mental illness does not help one to get the bottom bunk!

The train bed itself - fairly torturous.  I thought that I didn't get the extra pad everyone else did.  Discovered at the end of the journey that they were stored above the top bunk.  Doh.

I do this a lot while traveling.

ONE TRAIN STATION TO ANOTHER

Talking to various people who had some English (about where my Spanish is I'm guessing) told me that the border was within walking distance.

Later, I discovered that talking to young, fit, healthy and relatively unencumbered people gives a different definition of 'walking distance'.

It was a couple clicks.

The only taxis?  At the train station.  And actually snapped up by the other train passengers.

So it was a walk.

Had I been going the other way (Romania to Ukraine) there would have been a big assed hill.

As it was, I was actually getting a bit dizzy and stuff as I was walking.  No where to sit down and often no side walks, I walked along looking for softer places to fall down.  My plan was to twist as I fell if I didn't just lose complete control of my body in order to spare the computer.  I may heal - the computer won't.

I just kept plodding along, one foot then the other and concentrated on breathing.

Yes.  Technically I was hiking through the Carpathian Mountains with literally everything I own.

Managed to not pass out (a couple times it was very close) or fall down all the way to the border.

Yea!

(Applause)

Pretty shagged out.  Were there any taxis?

Hell.

A box and a manually operated level crossing.  That's about it for this international border.

Sure, there were unmanned booths for little things like currency conversion and such, with the key word being 'unmanned'.

This is not a great place to cross for amenities.

One of the young guys asked me if I had any tobacco or alcohol.  I joked with him that I'd sure like it if he was offering those to me and began asking questions about where the train station was so I could get a ticket.  Played up the selfish tourist angle while being funny.

Didn't want him to look into my backpack.  Nothing serious - just personal use cigarettes and a whole bunch of pills.  My medicine.

But, anyone who has been reading this blog long enough knows my attitude toward authority figures.

I immediately set off toward the two (?) klicks away train station.  Hanging around - never a smart idea.

Eventually, I drug my ass into the train station.



SIDE RANT

One of the best things about 'not Ukraine' is we are back to the Latin alphabet.  A bit over a third of the people of the world use the Latin alphabet as opposed to four percent that use the Cyrillic one.  [Source]

This, in my mind, gives using the Cyrillic alphabet is about as smart as not being on the metric system.

The Latin letters make things so much easier.  Heck, both parties can even use the same phone with google translate!

There is a reason Logan has said "I don't care about learning the Cyrillic alphabet".  Yes, I have gone completely metric.  I'm about 1.8 meters tall and weigh under one metric ton.  But not enough under.  Good times.



THE TRAIN STATION

Scott: "Yeah... um, listen. We're trying to get to Berlin, Germany. Do you know if there's a train coming anytime soon?"
Tibor: "Oh yes! Very soon! They are building it now!"
     - Eurotrip

Felt this quote when I walked into the partial train station.  It was under construction.

Every experienced (and some inexperienced) travelers know that it is possible to buy a ticket on the train much of the time.  Knowing which train is yours is the problem.  They don't label them as clearly as I'd like.  Why that is, I do not know.  Later, it will lead to more butthurt.

At first, the lady was zero help.  No, she couldn't hold on to my bags so that I could do another two kilometer hike into town to get cash out of the ATM.  No, she could not make my cards work on her card scanner.  Did you know that whether you swipe the card along the side or stick it in the end, there are four different possible positions?  Only two of these eight total positions are incorrect.  I watched her try six different positions before putting the card reader aside and announcing it would no longer be used today.

Thinking she didn't get a lot of training on it.

Times like this require a lot of patience.  I've seen a lot (lot, lot) of tourists break down and start yelling, demanding to see managers and so on.  While this may work in some first world countries it means you are 'done' in most countries.  The item or service is no longer for sale and they don't care who you rant to.  You won't meet with the boss and there is no better business guide for people to complain to and the majority of people to ignore.

Honestly - it takes a special kind of person to read through their reviews and such on a regular basis and these people are rare.  If you are one of them and want to object and say you are not rare, you can reterm it as 'special'.  You have now moved into the 'special' category.

Right.

So - arguing doesn't work.  Unless you are Russell Crow.

Assuming you are not 'fighting round the world' (I try not to) just keep looking for new ways to go after the problem.

I got a taxi and paid him to take me into town to hit a bank, get a new sim card, some food (my last for about thirty hours as it turned out) and return me to the train station to wait for six or eight hours.  On food sellers - I'm thinking there must be a reason or law against people selling food near the train station or even on the trains the way they do in Asia.  It seems like there would be quite a market as a lot of these trains (even ones crossing countries) don't bother with the dining car.  But there isn't.

Lots of waiting.

After all of the walking and nearly passing out, even had I a place to store my luggage for a couple hours, touring the village wasn't a priority.  Possibly due to the hard rain which started after I got back and situated with a ticket.  It did look nice and picturesque.  This reinforces my opinion that - if one had the money and time - doing a summer time tour of Romania and staying in various nifty places would be fun.  Given the horrible time tables for the trains, probably a private motor car (I'm feeling British) would be the way to go.



WAITING IN DEDA

The last town before I finally got to my goal is a tiny (4000 people) town of Deda.  Easily memorable name, long four hour lay over.

Obviously, I was totally out of it by the time I'd reached here - between close to twenty hours of travel as well as hauling all my earthly possessions through the Carpathians.

And it got cold.

Like really cold.

I put on my sweater but unfortunately nodded off, thus lowering my body temperature even more.

Just sat there in the totally empty railway station having a good shake for a long, long time until my body warmed itself back up.  Not the coldest I've ever been (Korea, 1986 or so) but damned cold.

After boarding and crawling around the wrong train, I managed to find someone who got me onto the correct one.

Nearly got off at the wrong train station as well.  For some reason, just one Targu Mures train station is not enough.  They also have a 'Nord' (north) one.  The only interesting thing there was some old guy who was unloading bunches of meter long sharpened wooden stakes.  I remarked "All these crazy new fangled vampire hunting techniques these days!"  Some lady passing began to laugh hysterically.

I got back on the train and was met by my buddy Sorin.

As we partook of McDonald's (hey - not a lot of breakfast choices at 7AM on a Sunday in Eastern Europe), I remarked that it is rare for me to be able to hang out with people you've known for five or more years.

Simply because many of them are not motivated enough to travel.   Sad face.  But as Shadow said in "The Fifth Element", "I will be among you...soon."

For people in the USA - LHI2, The Second Coming.

Not as funny as Russells' Second Coming show but should be fun.

(If you missed LHI1 and would like more information about how to get involved, contact me on Facebook - Logan Horsford.  If you are not already a friend of mine, please mention you read the blog as I get a lot of spam friend requests and routinely block those bitches.)



SUMMARY

If you have your own vehicle, the Ukrainian to Romanian border crossing of Solotvino to Sihetu Marmatsiei is nice and quite.   Probably relaxing.  If you are on foot, avoid it if possible or allow for the fact you will probably be walking six kilometers, possibly up a decent (very long) hill.

This was not a happy forty eight hours for me in any way.  At all.  Even after being installed in the new place by kindly Sorin (no relation to the dark lord Sauron) I kept falling asleep - even after two (yes, two) different naps.

Avoid if possible.



TRAVELER'S TIPS

The platform they say the train will arrive on may be a lie.  Find some station attendants and double check - especially in the 'not first world' countries.  Sometimes, there will be multiple trains on the same track and at the same platform going wildly different places.

Going on a long train journey?  Don't plan on the station, anywhere near the station or the dining car (which will not exist) to feed you.  Pack a picnic.  An extensive one.

How often should you clean your backpack?  Never.  The more disgusting and ratty it appears, the better chance that would be thieves will look elsewhere for their 'phat l00t'.  If you like snazzy looking equipment, I recommend travel insurance!

Adjusting windows and such on transport.  I've watched this for years and honestly, it rarely goes well.  Want a little extra air and the window is up?  Once you lower it, it will magically say 'fuck you' and be broken forever in the down position.  Arctic winds will assail you.  Or the window will simply break off in your hand.  Or refuse to budge.  Or the glass will fall out.  Or have not been there for years.  Pretty much, trying to make any of the little comfort adjustments - really bad idea that often seems to make it worse.    Hell, even moving around the train with your over large backpack through doors that get stuck half way open, are inexplicably locked or only one door moves lead to a nightmarish feeling that only intensifies if you have to take a sudden, violent shit.  Instead, make the adjustments on yourself rather than the environment.  I carry coats and such in case it gets too cold, seat padding, etc.




COSTS

Taxi for a couple clicks and some waiting, 20 LEI

Sim card with a bunch of wifi, 25 LEI

Cigarettes, a bit over $3 per pack - about 3x Ukraine.  Welcome to the EU taxes, bitches!  Oh - wait - I have to pay it.  Shit.

Train from the border train station to Targu Mures (place I will be for a month), 66 LEI

BULGARIA TO ROMANIA

BULGARIA TO ROMANIA

Although I was made to be very comfortable - and welcome - back at Kosto's apartments (the same apartment I'd rented before), honestly being in the same small town was kind of a drag.  I resolved to go somewhere new next time I'm in Bulgaria.

Unlike the USA, trains are still used as transport in Eastern Europe.  I resolved to use them while I could as they are freaky expensive in Western Europe.

From Plovdiv to Sophia (capital) there is a small local train.

While waiting for that at about two in the morning, I asked a couple cops where I could take a leak.  They showed me to the pay bathroom which was closed.  For some reason.  They then gestured to a nearby wall.  "If you don't care, I don't care." I retorted.

Eventually, I reached the under construction Sophia train station.  It looks like they are going for a 'cubist concrete' style.

I was trying to figure out how to get the train for the next leg of my journey (Sophia to Bucharest) and asked one of the ticket sellers.  She didn't speak any languages useful for a traveler.  Eventually, I was shown a TV monitor they had conspicuously set up.  Hey, I didn't have any sleep last night.

The only important parts are the first column, what train you have and the last - what platform it's on.  Red box means you'd better run.

Er - to catch the train.  Not because you're going to be hunted down and killed like a common snow leopard.

That's HIS job.

My platform came up as "83".  Quite a trick considering there were seven platforms.

I only wish I was joking.

It turned out later (after getting the police in on helping me to find out what the hell was going on) there are indeed eight platforms.  The eighth is handwritten on a piece of paper and not labeled on the "this way to platforms one through seven".

Turns out that I was, once again, not picked for wizarding school.

So platform eight?  Great - what's the three?  Oh - your local language symbol for west.  No, that's not freakishly confusing at all.  Thanks so much.

The 'west' thing is important because they load multiple trains on the same tracks (despite some other tracks not being busy) because that is not at all confusing either.

Is this why buses have been buttfucking the rail industry?

Possibly that and they haven't caught on to the 'offer free wifi on your trains'.

So we went through the border.  Though it took longer than perhaps it should have, it was one of the relaxed border crossings where the border guard came on to the train, collected the passports and returned them later.

I eventually arrived in Bucharest, got the local train to Ploiesti (we're still talking Romania here), called my hosts and they collected me from the train station.  Thanks to the nice couple that let me borrow their phone!



MY HOSTS

In the LHI tour I didn't put up pics of my hosts.  I regret that.  So, this time I am doing it.

Here are my hosts in Romania, Sorin and Diana.

These guys have an interesting job - they work for a casino!  They're high falutin' managers which means that if I go with them to their work, they leave me at the bar with as much free booze as I can stomach.

That's a nice deal.

Since the bartenders aren't doing much (summer is the slow season), we sit around and talk.

Ma-ki-hel, Logan, Kat-a-leen.  (Spelled phonetically, sorry I don't know how to spell it but it's better this way.)

Getting back to my hosts, they are super nice to me.  I consider a week to be about the max I should freeload off someone.  Last time I was in Romania, I ended up staying with them for a week.  This time they said I should come for two weeks.

Nice folks.  They treat me super well.  And, best yet, getting to meet them in yet a different town!  Yea!

Hope to visit them in a few more years.



HOW MUCH DO PEOPLE IN THE USA LIKE BACON?

Apparently, enough to be fucked by it...

BOOK REVIEWS

Note on 'graphic audio'.  Those are audio books where they put in sound effects and such.  These are designed for people who have no fucking imagination.  I find such things - as well as multiple 'cast members' to be extremely distracting.  Hence, I avoid that shit.  I figure these things are a symptom of people who have been raised on TV and are incapable of forming pictures in their mind.

"Libriomancer", "Codex Born" and "Unbound" by Jim C. Hines

Pretty decent urban fantasy.  The most interesting part is the type of magic (see title of book) used.  By drawing on the collective belief and emotions of the people who have read books, the magicians can literally reach into a book and draw forth what they want from the book.  This reminds me a bit of the book "Geekomancy" which did partially the same thing, using the collective belief/love of people to get the magic but this puts a new slant on it.

The story, heroes and such are really nothing new.  The big powerful organization is way too busy to deal with what seems important to the hero.  He even had a 'turn in your badge and gun' moment with one of the bosses but was later reinstated because he is too damned good.  The hero also suffers from not being very clever and hella reckless.

The author became upset when I mentioned that with the hero getting into that much trouble (and being an extremely fast reader and great researcher) he would bother to learn a bit of 'trade craft' (spy stuff).  Apparently that isn't ever going to happen.  I would encourage anyone who is constantly put into life and death situations to bother to learn some of this.   Eventually, you just end up shaking your head wondering why this guy is still alive and hasn't gotten the people close to him killed.  If these characters were either overconfident or suicidal nihilists it would make more sense.

Note, I don't recommend contacting this author.  Normally, authors I talk to are not so overly sensitive.  No doubt there is more to the story than I know.  Perhaps he just discovered someone had raped his dog.  (If so, my condolences to the dog, contact PETA.)  I've no idea, but it is not often I need to 'unfriend' someone.

[Note, if this sounds overly harsh, rather than bitching about someone posting on your wall within that thread, delete the thread (it's your wall) and send them a PM.  If they do it again, unfriend and block them.  This isn't rocket science.]

Nothing new here but it is not a bad series either.

5/10


Books by F. Paul Wilson:  "Cold City", "Dark City", "Fear City" - early Repairman Jack books.

While these may look like three different book titles, take my word for it, they are all pretty much one long book.

Prequels are usually shit (the "Amber" by Zelazny ones come to mind) but these were different.  These were written by the same author, unlike the ones mentioned above which I begin to suspect I may be holding an illogical grudge against.

Normally you cringe when protagonists do stupid stuff.  Like in the "Libriomancer" series I reviewed above.  However, in these books they talk about the protagonist in his early formative years.  He's a bit hot headed, morally conflicted, completely inexperienced and getting some training.  Yeah.  This is exactly the right place for him to mess up without the audience screaming "Are you stupid?"  Quite a refreshing read after "Libriomancer".

This guy's story is not unlike "The Equalizer" from the ancient days of television that anyone born post internet has no idea exists.  It's not really a new concept.  In the later (sprawling) series, he solves problems.  These books are how he gets started.

Part of the appeal of the series is the guy leads a very 'off the grid' lifestyle.   While Logan leads a fairly off the grid 'alternative' lifestyle, this guy is completely off the grid.  No last name, no social security number, all payment under the table.  Good stuff.

I'd recommend these books.  They are easy to read and were made long after the author had 'sharpened his quill'.  Maybe that expression is too old.  Authors get better as they get older.  This was made fairly recently.

It may suck you into the series.  Without giving any spoilers (hate those people) I can say that there is more going on than some guy getting paid to rough up people for cash.  The series is eventually classified as 'urban fantasy'.  Enjoy.

7/10



LOGANISMS

"Cold McDonald's french fries taste like...broken dreams..."

"Electricity is what separates us from cheetahs."



Costs (Romania):

Bottle of hard alcohol, about 10 USD
Bulgarian 'fast food' (think BBQ), about 1.5 USD (yeah, not bad)

BUS, BUS, MAGIC BUS!

ODESSA TO VARNA

Because long time readers of the blog enjoy Logan's pain like a vampire does blood, here is a recounting of the trip.

The mortar shells of the rebels had still failed to be launched as I boarded the bus.  The paint on the side proclaimed it to be a 'first class bus'.  They adhere to rigid truth in advertising all over the world.

Toward Moldova the bus plodded, picking its way carefully through roads already prepared for the next post apocalyptic "Fall Out" game.  Swerving down the one lane road the driver decided the grass was continuously greener anywhere but his assigned lane.  Many smaller cars and a couple other buses were ruthlessly bullied onto the shoulder or worse.  Any bus calling itself a 'sleeper' was turned into a lair on these roads.

Along the sides of the road, various stone crosses had been set up in spots where the drunk, unlucky or careless had met their end.  Like a ship offloading floating mines to honor sailors lost at sea, these will not only see but cause more death.

The hamlets in both Ukraine and Moldova were alike in that the traffic passing through received a lingering look as though this would be the day's entertainment.  Gray sullen buildings surrounded by unremarkable fields, as exciting as a drive through Kansas.

Felt sorry for the Ukrainians at the Moldovan border.  This is a quiet dull border with little traffic.  The offices are made from three shipping containers so that you know what living in a freezer is like.  A zombie outbreak would probably be a welcome change of pace.

In the past, I've fired pistols, shotguns, sub machine guns, assault rifles, machine guns, grenade launcher and so on.  Today was the first day I'd ever been 'felt up' by a sub machine gun.  It was on the guard's back and the bus was pretty narrow when he turned.  Felt like he then bobbed up and down a few times.  Afterward, I wanted a cigarette and a cuddle with the SMG but he was gone.  Heartbreaking.

A class of young, chattering, enthusiastic and drunk naval academy students took up most of the bus.  At a border, one of the girls checked out the outhouses.  Simple wooden buildings with a hole cut in the floor and twenty male visitors with bad aim.  "So sorry!"  she shouted.  "This is Ukraine!"

I laughed politely though this wasn't the first time I'd heard that phrase.

All of the currency exchanges were either closed or lied about not having dollars and euros - despite being able to see them in the drawer.  Rather than add to my mini 'Jason Bourne money collection' I exchanged with the professor leading the maritime class at a very favorable rate.  For him.

The bus ride started at 1 PM and arrived at 8 AM the next day.  We'd passed through Ukraine, Moldova, Romania and into Bulgaria.  These borders were all lightly trafficked.  A border guard would board the bus, collect the passports, leave with them and they'd return from a bus worker stamped later.  The seat of the first class was uncomfortable enough I feel as though I'd received a spanking.  Not that perverted 'please spank me' British thing but an American 'go pick a switch'.



BUS PROTOCOLS

Taking long distance buses within the USA is a fairly rare occurrence.  Generally, the people using something like Greyhound are either extremely poor, foreigners, people without a license or convicts just released from/broke out of jail.  The toilets generally work, regular breaks are made and the only thing you have to remember to do from time to time is jump up brandishing a shiv and yelling "Don't touch my stuff!"

1)  Watch the driver carefully.  Not to see if he will snap or drive you into oncoming traffic though this is always a possibility.

If the driver gets out for a smoke, you may have time to dash to the bathroom.  Should he sit down to eat, chow down.  When the driver is climbing back into the bus you should be right behind him.  People often get left behind thinking the bus will wait for them.  Sometimes it does.  Those incompetent and inconsiderate enough to hold up an entire bus rightly receive the hatred of everyone else on the bus.

2)  Use the restroom whenever possible.  Finding out when the next stop is can be tricky.  You should always carry toilet paper and water with you - don't expect to find either en-route.  Even when you are assured the bus comes equipped with a toilet they are usually locked because nobody wants to clean them.  Or broken.  Or so disgusting and cramped that using them would leave you in worse shape than just wearing an adult diaper.

The night before traveling on a long trip is not the time to try a new restaurant or 'interesting' food.  The less you eat and drink before leaving and while on the road the happier you'll be.

3)  Guard your gear!  Tourists love to leave iPads and other electronic gizmos worth three months of someone's gross pay on the seat when they go to the bathroom or fall asleep then are indignant when they wake up without it.

Valuables such as computers go in a small backpack that goes everywhere with you.  Passports and credit cards are often put into this pack but a security pouch worn under the clothing is much safer.  Losing those important things while overseas can mean a week of fighting with bureaucracy rather than enjoying your vacation.

4)  Talk to your fellow passengers - especially the natives!

It requires being outgoing.  People traveling with others generally only speak with their companions.  They miss out on meeting interesting foreigners.  On the most recent bus trip, I met up with a physicist who was a teacher at a naval academy and who spoke six languages fluently.  Putting yourself out there and talking to people also garners goodwill with other passengers.  They will happily point out important information you would have missed not speaking the language - this break is only five minutes, there is something interesting/historical/significant, this is your stop and so on.

5)  On long trips going to different countries, always exchange local currency before boarding the bus.

  Although most border crossings have currency exchanges, your bus may not go anywhere near it or have time for you to use it.  The currency exchange may not have dollars or euros for you.  They may lie about this.  Take care of it before you board the bus.


Prices (Bulgaria)

Fine dining; main course, appetizer, two beers - 22 lev
Wine, from wine store - 10 lev
Bag repair, 4 lev
Bag re-repair, 2 lev (it was my fault on this one)

ROMANIA LAYOVER AND OVER AND OVER...

ARRIVAL IN IASI

First thing - secure transportation. So, I went and checked on how much it would cost to go to Moldova. The good news on the pri - second class for 35 ROM and the first class is 83 ROM. It is a five hour ride. So - it's roughly either $12.50 or $30. I'm honestly undecided. I want to keep my costs down but could really use some sleep. It was close to 7 PM when I got to the train station. I was told that the train wouldn't leave till 3 AM. I freaked out a bit and told the nice lady "I'll be back." I figured I had plenty of time to go look into alternative routes - like buses and (fuck it) a taxi. So, I needed to find directions to the bus terminal. I went around asking taxi drivers what color the sky was. One guy laughed and said "It's blue, man!" I barely managed to get directions out of him before some guy hopped into the back and he took off. Never ever to be seen again. Doh. The directions were half a kilometer humping the pack. His directions were wrong. I found out from a couple of high school aged girls that the bus station I actually wanted was right across the street from the train station. Double doh. I could have farted fire. So, I went back and had a chat with the people at the bus station. It turns out they had a bus that bound exactly to where I want. Leaving tomorrow at noon. So, I headed back to the train station and tried to buy a ticket. They wouldn't sell it to me. I swear to fucking god, they wouldn't sell it to me. The third time the lady was angrily explaining in Romanian to me I said "I'm sorry, my language skills have not improved since the first time you tried to explain it in Romanian to me." I heard someone behind me snicker. Guess who became my newly drafted translator?

It turns out that the tickets are sold out of Frankfort (Germany). They close the ticket sales to the local stations 48 hours before the train comes.

What...the...fuck...

Because I could feel the anal intruder coming, I asked "How do I get on that train?"

She said I'd have to buy a ticket from the conductor.

Remember last blog when I said this was a really bad sign? Here it happens again. Basically, I'm suppose to jump on a train headed for the border. It's adventurous the same way that stepping on a rake can be. Since I've got my second wind in a restaurant with the obligatory TV chattering away like a 'Chicago Typewriter' in the background, I decided to try typing on the blog for awhile some stuff then probably get clubbed to death by the 'sleep monster' in the train station. I see some great fun in the near future. I'll have to see what this train station looks like at night, but it's looking better than Timisoara does so far...

After finding as secure (and warm) of place as I could, I let myself fitfully doze while keeping a death grip on my shit. Eventually, I managed to board the train - just barely. My sleep befuddled brain wasn't sure if it was the right one and with no ticket it made it more challenging.

And then I got a cabin. It had four bunk sleeping beds in it and was empty aside for me.

Some guy who was either drunk or tired with no uniform or tickets came calling. I couldn't verify whether he was the conductor or not. He didn't speak English or German. I showed him I had money. I let him examine that I had a passport but I didn't release it from my grasp. I know about the trick of 'give me money or I rip this up'. When I originally got on the train, my intention was to check out both the first and second class seating to see what I wanted to pay for. In my 'duh - me need sleep state' I found later that I had ended up climbing onto the first class cabins. And I think that I had accidentally negotiated a first class passage for second class price.

Hell, even a stopped clock is right twice a day.

Well, unless it's digital.

I was very confused if I should sleep or not. This strange guy with no uniform bugged me. I eventually gave into trying it out because it was the first horizontal surface I had encountered in a very long time. As soon as I had gotten comfortable, the door opened. It was the guy - and he had found his conductor uniform. We were already at the border. The very odd thing at the Romania border is that they take your passports. I mean like physically take them away to somewhere else. I watched and they did indeed take other peoples - not just mine. I'd have been freaking out if it was just mine. A different guy came through and asked me how much money I had. I showed him the fairly pathetic amount in the 'day wallet'. He looked completely disinterested and wandered off. My guess is that you have to declare over a certain amount. I had forgotten about the other currency that was in my special container but I think he would have been completely disinterested in my BAM (Bosnian Marks).

The customs official then pointed at my backpack and asked "Problem?" I thought about how well the pack actually seemed to be working and said "No." I didn't think his English would have let him comprehend if I mentioned I couldn't get the waist belt as tight as I'd like.

He then lifted up the seats to look under them. I really need to start doing this when I am in a train crossing a border. I'm sure if he found a dead whore and a couple keys of coke he wouldn't immediately leap to the conclusion that it had been left by a previous passenger. He might buy it if I loudly suspected Matt L but otherwise, I'd be hosed.

Anyway, he failed to find anything that distressed him so he left. The train then completely powered down which cut off the lights in my room. The only lighting is from the outside border lights. the harsh glare fills the room as we wait and my mind goes back to the movie "Top Secret".

My imagination hates me.

About a half an hour later, I had my passport cheerfully returned to me. I checked it out. My passport currently has eleven stamps. No clue what that means - some countries stamp, others didn't, some stamp one entry and one exit. Bah. Compared to someone who hasn't really traveled much, I've done a lot of traveling but compared to a lot of the people I'm meeting on the road, I've not really left the house.

Another fifteen minutes after my passport returned we were moving again. Into the Moldavian side. One border guard and one guy in camouflage came in. They asked in the "I know a couple words of English" type speeched where I was bound after this. I said "Maybe Odessa." This seemed to make them happy. They then inquired how long I would be in their country. I asked if the maximum stay was three months. They agreed it was. I told them "Less than that." I like to keep my options open. There was a bit of a pause then they shrugged and left. They seem to have been defeated by their own lack of English.

Between an hour or two at the train station and about two hours of sleep I got on the train, I was feeling fairly well rested. Or I was sleep walking.



NEXT EPISODE, CHISINAU, MOLDOVA!



COSTS

Shot of second grade whiskey, 12 ROM

Pizza - garlic, cheese, pepperoni, onions, 20 ROM



COUCH SURFING IN TRANSNISTRIA

According to my contact, the reason that there are few people willing to host in Transnistria is that you need a letter of an invitation from a foreign country to leave Transnistria. Hard to believe in this day and age. A lot of people feel put out because people apparently promise but do not deliver in these letters. Me? I'd move it.



TRAIN BATHROOMS - HOW TO USE THEM

For the ladies, they have one and only one option. It is called "Disinfect the toilet seat and perhaps add plenty of toilet paper around the rim so you don't have to touch it with your skin." I suppose they could also use the 'hold yourself over it and try to pee' option but the mechanics are mind boggling.

For men, we have two different ways to go to the bathroom.

The first is called the 'conductor lean'. Conductors are always leaning on doorways and such while the train is in motion so they are not bounced about by the constant jarring of the tracks. Well, in Central and Eastern Europe anyway. So, you lean on something and pee. That is the functional way to do it. Lean up against the wall and let it fly.

The second way I call "The Cowboy". It works just like a cowboy on a bucking bronco - see link. You stand unsupported in the middle of the bathroom and let it fly. Do your best not to touch anything - just try to keep your balance. Have a good time with it because chances are excellent there will be a lady waiting after your done. Try not to let her follow you to your cabin to kill you.

WOULD ANYONE MAKE A MOVIE OF YOUR LIFE?

"The movie will begin in five moments," the mindless voice announced. All those unseated will await the next show. We filed slowly, languidly into the hall. The auditorium was vast and silent. As we seated and were darkened, the voice continued, "The program for this evening is not new. You've seen this entertainment through and through. You've seen your birth, your life and death. You might recall all the rest. Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on?" - http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/The_Doors_(film) For me, this quote has always bugged me. I'm not really thinking that it would be a very consistent movie. The part when I was in the army, young yet jaded then cut do twenty some years later and then I'm old fat and jaded. Hopefully, I'm back on track with a long ass part that is "And he did stuff". I did like the RPG's a lot and the people I met but those are already on podcast!



ROMANIAN LANGUAGE

Vagon means 'track'. useful to know if you're trying to find out what track you should be leaving on.



AND NOW BACK TO THE NARRATIVE

So, I had made my way back to Sighisoara and had two children beggars harrassing me. They were being over the top persistent. I was out of sorts from travel, lack of sleep and feeling pretty nasty and I forgot one of Logan's rules: "People may be talking in a different language but they are listening in English. Even those who have claimed and demonstrated a complete lack of understanding English may actually understand it. Take nothing for granted." So, I got frustrated and snapped "Fuck off" at the kids. Naturally, this was immediately understood. Worse yet, they started apologizing profusely for bothering me. Plus, the big brothers and family of these (presumably gypsy) kids could have been very close by. So, now I am feeling guilty, the idiot and a bit concerned. But wait, it gets worse. Possibly looking to see if I was dumb enough to give him a chance to see how fast on his feet he was with my stuff, one of the kids follows me into the store. And then he began translating to help me out. Wow, am I an asshole. So, now we go to my two rules on beggars. Rule one, they are probably faking it. Rule two, even if they are not faking poverty, you should not give them money because there is an excellent chance it will go one of three different places - booze, drugs or the boss of the beggars. Did you know beggars have a boss? I do. They are forced to give him kickbacks. So, give them food. They will be able to use it immediately. If they don't take it, see rule one. I'm not suggesting you give them your half finished ice cream cone but I am suggesting that if you buy them some bread or whatever, it will actually get eaten as opposed to shot up. Rule three - if accosted by beggars, talk in a totally made up language and keep moving fast. You should be moving fast or they will begin explaining via sign language. But if you're moving fast, it just confuses them and they look for someone else to rob. So, I buy the kids a big chunk of salami and tell them to go home. As I walk away I am thinking "They may not have one...Ass..." Rule four, avoid beggars when possible - you will feel like a dick no matter what happens.

So, i'm stuck at the train station for another two to three hour lay over.

Which gets another hour delay. The train is delayed due to unknown reasons. Unknown reasons always win.

But at least I'm back on the move again. Thus far, I've had two good experience and one lets call it 'neutral' experience. If I just wanted a place to crash, it would have probably been fine but it's not what I'm after.

In Sighisoara, I've seen more Americans than anywhere else in Romania. That is four all at once. I discovered later that "Dracula was born here" is the draw for Sighisoara. Weird.

So I met up with two American students, Hobie and Anna. Hobie lives in London studying politics; he's traveled quite a bit. Anna is studying to be a lawyer. Sadly, she left her passport in her backpack and it disappeared. She said that she's traveled a lot and that never happened before. I see that as the 'law of averages' catching up to her. They've done some interesting travel in Romania and were even ballsy enough to rent a car here. This is way too dangerous for Logan. Hobie and Anna seemed like nice folks, I hope their passport issue gets resolved without too much hassle.

After Hobie and Anna took off on a train, I sat around watching a literally filthy gypsy lady with three little kids. She's teaching her children how to go through the trash, beg from people, smoke and so on. It's rather sad. She was giving her eleven year old daughter cigarettes.

The countryside of Romania has a lot of 'quaint' (per Terry Pratchett) buildings connected by bumpy train rails and washboard roads. The landscape itself varies between hills, plains, fields and deciduous forests. It looks pretty nice. The cities are fairly flash but outside of the cities, horse and animal power is still used - which means (to me) life is hard.



TERRY PRATCHETT QUOTE

"Picturesque meant - he decided after careful observation of the scenerey that inspired Twoflower to use the word - that the landscape was horribly precipitous. Quaint, when used to describe the occasional village through which they passed, meant fever-ridden and tumbledown. Twoflower was a tourist, the first ever seen on the discworld. Tourist, Rincewind had decided, mean 'idiot'."



ON THE TRAIN

I found that some Hungarians living in Romania can't speak any Romanian, just as many oh lets call the 'ethnic minorities' (like many Mexicans I've met, for example) don't bother to learn English. I see it with the same "WTF" as I did in America. My German is pretty bad but when I found that I'd be there for two years I made an effort to learn it. If I was permanently living there, I'd sure as hell have learned it. It would probably still be a bit rough, but I'd make the effort. In talking to a couple of Romanian engineering students (Razvan and Dauria) I learned that many Hungarians can indeed actually speak Romanian but choose not to as some sort of 'autonomy' thing. Because they didn't want to offend other people in the car who didn't speak English, they didn't want to go into details (like proper nouns). It's an odd situation from my point of view.

I've also noticed that the Hungarian students became a lot more reserved and quiet around the Romanians.

According to Razvan who was sitting near the door and could smell it, our train conductor was drunk. [Note, from my other train rides this doesn't seem to be a real unique situation.]

Since Razvan and Dauria had very good English abilities I was asking the what they liked best about Romania. Razvan said the extremely varied terrain. You have literally everything here. Dauria said the 'Transfagarasan'. It looks like a pretty wild drive for a guy and a high performance sports car. Unfortunately, I'm thinking that you're going to be not just trying to stay on the road but dodge all of the other drivers, possibly a horse cart, livestock and so on. They did mention that global warming seemed to be messing with Romania's climate in a very direct way.

Dealing with Romania and the EU, they only have one year to get their house in order. Razvan and Dauria didn't think it was going to happen as they have to change both the educational system as well as the countries finances. If Romania doesn't get it done on time, they have to start a new five year clock. After the three Hungarian high school aged girls in the car got hustled off by the conductor for buying tickets that were 40 KM or so short of their destination (were they trying to save some money on tickets) and presumably tossed off the train (not while moving as far as I know...) we had a new cabin mate. This guy is a Wing Chun Kung Fu practitioner whose boss works with Steven Seagal. Apparently, when Nicolae Ceaușescu was in power, he was friends with the Chinese and martial arts came to Romania. Of the communist years, he assured us, the 1970's were the best. Toward the end of communism they had food rationing.

Abortions were also forbidden under communism - more workers. I am trying to think of another organization that forbids abortions and wants a lot of people. Hummm.

So, I was on a train headed to Suceacva and have no clue of where any hostels are and no way to look it up on line. If I press on to Chisinau (Moldova) I know they have some but I think the notes of them are in the notebook I mailed to Jana. That she still hasn't gotten yet. Shit.

Razvan and Dauria seemed interesting. Razvan contacted me via Facebook so I might hear from him again! Good times.



SUCEACVA, ROMANIA

Apparently, five hundred years ago, some monks made some cool paintings. Not a lot has apparently happened since. I wasn't really interested in going to see Christian paintings so I went instead during my five hour layover to find - the internet.

After trudging up a hill (Logan hates hills and...um...so does God?) I found a place advertising itself as a two star hotel. It turned out that I could get my computer plugged into their hardline internet for 10 ROM. Haggling time! I got that down to 5 ROM and then down to 4.55 ROM when it came time to pay as that was all I had in small bills.

I had pretty much as long as I wanted to look up things but after doing the research (called 'where are the hostels') I found I was too out of it due to sleep deprivation to put much on the blog.

My plan is to get to Moldova, rest up and meet up with the couch surfing lady who is willing to meet me in Transnistria. I'm planning on going to take a look at the place and stay with her for a couple nights. If I'm not comfortable with it, I'll head on to Odessa, Ukraine.

There is a girl who worked at the tourist information train counter booth whose English is a bit better than my Arabic. Translation, pretty bad. The fact she is at the 'tourist information' place tells me the monk paintings may not have a lot of draw or they'd want to get someone in there who speaks the 'international language' better than shitty. Anyway, she gave me some notes on a train that she believes will take me to Moldova. [Apparently, in addition to not being able to speak English, she also didn't know how to get to places as the information she gave me was wrong, misleading and would have gotten her fired at any decent company. She is just all kinds of 'fail' at her job when it came to dealing with a foreign tourist wanting to go to somewhere that wasn't a major Romanian city.] To top that, for mysterious reasons, she can't actually sell me a train ticket for this train - I have to buy it from the conductor. I wasn't very comfortable with this and was (sadly) proven right later. I was especially not comfortable with this when switching countries. Later when I tried to poke around and see if it could be verified, I got the same exact lady only more frustrated.

So, for some reason, I got the idea in my sleep deprived brain to go find a bank. I wanted to get some emergency currency ready in case my bank decided to have a little sex with my ass unexpectedly again. I figure Euros seem more accepted (and more stable these days) than the dollar these days so I'd like to have some for emergencies. So I see a guy at a currency exchange and he tells me where a bank is. I've got two different ways there he says - I can either walk about one kilometer each way or merely take the bus four stops and I'm there.

I stupidly decide the bus is the less painful option.

I really am wrong quite often.

So I head out there.

I made so many errors that day that it shocked even me. Here is the quick list:

1. Banks are closed on Saturday afternoons.
2. I could have bought Euros at the currency exchange.
3. I was in the land of really amazingly cheap taxis.

For my sins, I spent 6 ROM (three bus tickets; for long journeys the lady on the bus may demand another ticket be bought just because). It was a two hour hot sardine can.

Here is how buses work in Romania! First off, if you are thinking about using them, don't. Get a taxi. Don't be a tool and think you're going to save a couple dollars. Just get the cab. Seriously. If I'd been more awake I would have remembered Sam's fine example and just gotten a cab. But I can still hear you saying "No, I'm a masochist and want to ride the bus, how do you do it?" Well, you sick twisted fuck, here is how you do it. If you are at where the bus actually starts, you just get on. The lady won't ask for money till the bus actually sets off. The bus won't actually set off until the bus driver feels he has enough passengers. Once it sets off, she'll be by to collect 2 ROM from you. Note, the combination ticket checker and ticket seller - from what I've been told - is always female, just as the bus driver is always male. I have no idea why. A female bus driver can drive with the same sort of suicidal recklessness that I've seen the male drivers have - why shouldn't they drive? If there are schedules, they are well hidden from the prying eyes of tourists and foreigners.

So, I made it back to the train station. I looked at it as I'd just killed a couple of hours and nearly myself. I understand the people that go to saunas less now. I guess it's the same crowd that buys a 'stairmaster' instead of just living on the sixth floor of a building with no elevator.

My clothing is starting to get a bit more loose. I'm not sure if it's wearing out or if it is me getting slightly smaller. I don't feel much smaller so I suspect the clothing. I think if you want weight loss tips, talk to Julie J. She has posted her massive success on Facebook and I give her props. For me, my fat ass is just trying to climatize to Europe.

I'm starting to look rough enough that even the beggars are leaving me alone. Cops, however, are starting to give me that sidelong look. I'm guessing what is saving me is that I'm at the train station. Their reasoning could be 'soon, he will be out of our jurisdiction and no longer our problem'.

I'm starting to think about my next destinations and starting to wonder if I might need something more exotic. Africa sounds lovely aside from disease. Oddly enough, the disease I'm talking about isn't AIDS - I'm not really worried about getting that for some reason (could be my huge gut but lets let that pass) but I am concerned about Malaria. Malaria not only sucks ass but it can kill you Once you have it, you always have it - like Herpes.

India should be just as exotic and hopefully less on the disease angle. And good food I like me some Indian food. Note for Indian people I know - now is the time to start contacting people to get tentative 'sure the fat weird American can come stay with us'. I will eventually start plotting a route through there based on the invites I get. If you think I should see something (or want to get my take on it) get someone in that place willing to host me.

I'm still thinking I'll go through Turkey to Georgia but after Georgia perhaps India. Not sure on that. Getting there will be interesting but we'll see. I'll worry about that later.

Have you ever noticed that religions which have fallen out of fashion are now called 'superstition' while ones being practiced by at least a small group of dedicated madmen (or 'madpersons') are referred to as 'religion'? For example, if some pre-year zero guy stacked stones in front of a site they deemed to be 'holy', a book on it would read along the lines of 'the people of clan Cave Bear, being very superstitious, would always stack stones here.'

On a completely unrelated topic, the people of Suceava are very religious. Any time they pass by a church they make the sign of the cross three times. Combining the first and second thoughts, I'm guessing they are glad that Christ didn't get stoned to death or they'd risk knocking themselves out just wandering around this church infested town.

On top of it all, my train turned out to be forty minutes late.

It adds to the 'adventure' of it all. I've got to say that whenever I switch countries, I get a lot to write about. Travel itself is painful. You always end up feeling like you're going through the ringer, sleep deprived and stinky by the time you actually arrive at your destination.

I just noticed that in my notes I have written that I can go by bus to Chisinau for 50 ROM as opposed to the 84 ROM I have written down. Only a couple problems here. I don't know where the bus station is and I don't have the time to go look for it before the train arrives. Also, I'm not sure of the bus schedule. For some reason, whenever I search for the info Diana looked for, rather than the helpful, useful stuff she got, I get weird forum discussions in which they trade broken links on the Lonely Planet forums. Either way, I'm out of this country today one way or the other. I'm not overly stressed about the extra $12 or whatever but i must admit I'm curious about how long the trip will take. Sometimes, as Diana showed me, a bus is literally four times shorter in trip duration.

Well, another hour of trip delay got tacked onto my sitting on my ass at the train station. I went to the train they had said would carry me out of this train themed Purgatory. The conductor only spoke Moldovan and Russian. He told me that the train was actually bound for...Russia. Since I'm not a Russian sleeper agent, I don't think that would be a good idea to go there. The conductor summoned others and a pow wow got under way. There were about six train conductors in that group including my personal angel, a nice lady who spoke limited English. By limited, I mean really limited. But you have to take luck where you can find it. All of the conductors seemed to agree that the lady from the ticket window was full of shit. [Translation for non-native English speakers - the term 'full of shit' means 'you don't know what you are talking about'.] Had I gotten on the train bound to Russia, it would have been...interesting. For Americans trying to get into Russia, it is a complicated and expensive process involving invitations and visas. I have neither. It's especially expensive given the brief period of time you can remain there. I doubtless would have been spending many exciting hours in a holding cell entertaining my captors denying plans to assassinate their Prime Minister.

After a loud and long debate, the conference of conductors came up with a solution. I needed to go to somewhere named "Iasi". It is pronounced 'Yoshi' to add to the fun. Nobody could make it clear to me which country this was in but the word 'Ukraine' did come up several times. I couldn't tell if it was relevant. They then escorted (frogmarched) me to the ticket lady and made her sell me a ticket (14 ROM) to Iasi. She stubbornly had not been studying any English since I'd last seen her but the conductors spoke loudly and made big arm gesture at her until she sold me the ticket - possibly just to make them go away. In as much as I have little idea what anyone is saying, Ive been assured that I can get to Moldova from there.

The conductors happily trundled off, secure in the knowledge they had won against the ticket lady.

I then decided to go interview the cab drivers. They were happy to get out of their cabs, unlock the trunks and repeat the word 'hotel' at me in hopes it would induce me into their cab. I instead, loudly used my 'find out who really speaks English' skill. "What color is the sky?" I demanded of several cab drivers. The seven I talked to were absolutely clueless as to this nasty riddle and stood perplexed, halfheartedly repeating their mantra of 'hotel'. I decided to lower the bar dramatically and went and asked them all 'bus station'? This drew blank looks and a couple of mumbled 'hotel' responses. Apparently, whatever monk doodles centuries gone by exist here are not enough to draw the hordes of tourists that would cause learning of the 'international language' to become economically viable. So, I pointed into the distance and screamed the world 'church!'. While they were all busy crossing themselves the mandatory three times to keep God from being pissed, I escaped back into the train station.

I sure hope Isari is nice.

So now, I look and feel like a warmed over, sweaty death with a bad attitude. Even the police have gone, possibly to get reinforcements. More likely to cornhole a prisoner. If I can find one cheap place to stay in Iasi, I might even hole up (not cornhole up) for a couple of days if the town looks at all intrigueing.

I've always considered it the height of bad taste to ask the border guard 'what country is this?' I think it may make them a bit suspicious as well.

Maybe I can find some internet while I'm there. I don't have time to hike back to the place I had bargained them down at because the train to the mystery destination will come soon. I do know that if I get to this mystery country and they're using the Cyrillic alphabet, it will make me cry.

While I was on the way to Iasi, I met a nice lady named Alina.
She speaks excellent English so I got to ask her some questions on different topics. I HAVE PARAPHRASED ALL OF HER ANSWERS

On the European Union: "People think that when Romania joins the EU this will cause their standard of living to be where Germany's is. But this won't happen.

What's the best thing about Romania? "In the countryside, you get to see life one hundred years ago. There are a of of nice places in Romania but Romanians don't know how to take advantage of them to make them a nice place for tourists to visit."

What's the biggest challenge Romania faces? "Mentality. They're not hoping for any change in the future. They are complacent. They want to see change - but with others making it rather than themselves. People complain but do nothing. It's mostly the older people who are thinking like this. It's hard to change the mentality of people as the same thought process keeps getting passed on from generation to generation."

Where do the women go to the bathroom on these trains? "They don't."

What are you'r thoughts on 'the gypsy problem? "The problem is that if someone says 'gypsies' they just mean Romanians. It's stereotyping."

She also told me that a lot of people work for 6-8 ROM an hour doing things like handing out free samples. A lot of people work for 8-12 hours a day for 500 ROM ($178) per month. To support yourself, 400 ROM for rent and 350 ROM for various bills including cable and internet. Hence if you're making 1000 ROM per month, you're able to stay afloat though you aren't building up any savings. This is for city people - to people in the country, that amount of money would be quite a bit. She said there wasn't really a 'middle class' in Romania.

I felt very lucky to have bumped into a clever and nice lady who has interesting opinions on things.

Also, she told me that Iasi was in Romania - she seemed amazed I had no idea where I was going...

NEXT BLOG - ARRIVAL IN IASI!



PRICES

Sighisoara to Suceava (with a stop over in Brasov) 73 ROM second class, 111 ROM first class.

Car rental - 30-40 EURO/day - no idea if insurance comes with that.

Gas - 5 ROM/liter hence about $7 per gallon. And you think you've got reason to whine and jack those taxi rates up!

Cafeteria where they charge you by the weight of the food - 6 RON for another shitty, luke warm meal.

Lukewarm cappuccino at the train station, 2 ROM.



GEORGIA

The country, not the state. I've heard from other travelers that Georgians really like Americans. I have no clue why.



TRAVELER'S TIPS

Keep your passport in a place that it is a real (not literal) pain in the ass to get to. You'll hold onto it longer.

In carrying toilet paper, if you have access, Eastern European toilet paper has no inner roll - it's just rolled toilet paper 'all the way down'. This might be handy for your 'emergency ration' of toilet paper.

Carry a lot of small bills for paying for stuff - especially if you haggle. There is nothing that will make you look like more of a dick than getting some guy to drop his price by half then paying with a large bill and demanding change.

If you are at a train station, you have two possible scenarios. You ca hand out some smokes to shameless smoke beggars or risk the wrath of your fellow passengers. Carry extra smokes! I suppose one nice trick would be to carry some crappy quality smokes to hand out. I don't suggest the small explosive charge in them however. Also, all of the people who have bummed them from me have been better dressed than I. I figure it is part of my 'foreigner's tax' as I've never seen them try to bum them from any of the locals.



AMERICAN CUSTOMS

In case I didn't mention these before in my big American customs posts I made earlier here and here.

Tailgating parties.

Large drinks with meals as opposed to Europeans which drink (to put it into a universal standard) say a bit over half a can of coke with their meal and that's it.

Tipping huge amounts. Most of the countries I've been in the waiters make considerably less (in base salary) than the waiters in America considering costs vs income. [In other words if you make $1000 and your costs are $500 then you are making more than the guy who is making 2000 money and spending 1200.] Yet, I've heard people on Facebook saying things like "If you can't afford to tip 20% don't go out." In many other countries you either don't tip, round up to the next small amount of money on the bill or tip a max of 10%. I've always felt personally that if someone is required to live just on tips and is not happy with the amount of tips they are getting, rather than bitch to others, find a better job. But that's just my opinion.



MOLDOVA MIXERS

Right- so I'm in the Republic of Moldova, trying to make a white Russian and the shit I bought that looked like milk wasn't. It was overly processed to 'make it good for children'. It tastes like shit so I'm thinking the parents have issues they are working out with their kids via torture.



PHILOSOPHY

When researching travel from your home, it's quite antiseptic. It looks straight forward. This is a lie. It is sitting around in your own stink and everyone else's and riding on amazingly bumpy roads and train tracks. I wouldn't give it up. It is the price of meeting interesting, wonderful people, experiencing new cultures, tasting new foods, seeing stuff that most of my friends won't and endless amounts of bitching.

"Security and adventure are opposites." - Logan said that shit! YEAH BABY, YEAH.