<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250</id><updated>2011-10-04T05:08:00.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Thom Travel Blog</title><subtitle type='html'>Here we go again... It's travel time! I've been REALLY fortunate to have seen some of the world, and it's time for more. Check in and see what's the latest, and share your thoughts as well.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-9054398365610810098</id><published>2010-05-06T11:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T11:24:29.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF="http://www.kiva.org" TARGET="_top"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;IMG SRC="http://www.kiva.org/images/bannerlong.png" WIDTH="460" HEIGHT="60" ALT="Kiva - loans that change lives" BORDER="0" ALIGN="BOTTOM"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-9054398365610810098?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/9054398365610810098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=9054398365610810098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/9054398365610810098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/9054398365610810098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2010/05/kiva-loans-that-change-lives.html' title=''/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-5574059593572181259</id><published>2010-04-21T12:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T13:12:22.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The China Syndrome</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/S89UOHD3ovI/AAAAAAAAAuo/H87uGfZpCqU/s1600/P1010585.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/S89UOHD3ovI/AAAAAAAAAuo/H87uGfZpCqU/s200/P1010585.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462677474413880050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to give a quick summary of what happened in China… somewhat because a few folks have been concerned that something went wrong, which isn’t the case.&lt;br /&gt;That said, it also didn’t turn out quite the way I had anticipated, but that’s life, eh? The short story is…&lt;br /&gt;I went over to learn about “new media” at my friend David Kay’s art space in Beijing, called Yuanfen, which is in the 798 arts district in BJ. David has been curating for two years or so, presenting multiple shows each year in the “new media” vein. &lt;br /&gt;David is also hoping to one day open a research &amp; development “arts incubator” for new media arts, which is an ambitious plan that will take much time and effort to execute. &lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, and although the projects were all interesting, I didn’t have the financial resources to wait for things to come to fruition. David, being an optimist, felt that things could happen soon, yet I felt that it might take many months, if not years, to become a reality. &lt;br /&gt;Plus, I guess I should add: I really didn’t feel any affinity for Beijing… It’s got plenty of tourist sites, but it wouldn’t ever be a city I’d put into my Top 10, that’s for sure. &lt;br /&gt;However, while I was in BJ, I got together with a friend from my days at the Rocky Mountain News, Justin Mitchell. Justin has been in Asia for six years, and he’s currently a copy editor for an English-language newspaper called “Global Times.” He mentioned that the company was expanding to Shanghai, and they might be hiring. &lt;br /&gt;I had intended to go down to Shanghai at some point anyway, to see another old friend, Charlie Haigh. (Like David, Charlie has been in China for more than 20 years, and they both speak fluent Mandarin.) &lt;br /&gt;So, I took a night train to SH, and met with the Managing Editor of “Global Times,” and was subsequently offered a job as a copy editor there. I mulled it over for the weekend, which I spent cruising all over town amidst the throngs of Chinese. Ultimately, I just didn’t feel that I was yearning for a 9-5 job in Shanghai, plus I guess you could say I wasn’t in love with China either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/S89UoeEoniI/AAAAAAAAAuw/vMJjV87wN38/s1600/P1010613.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/S89UoeEoniI/AAAAAAAAAuw/vMJjV87wN38/s200/P1010613.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462677927267704354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Much has changed since I was first there in 1984, and again in 2004. They still play Christmas music year round (because it all sounds the same to them?). But now there’s Starbucks every three blocks, Lady Gaga can be heard everywhere, and you can buy the real (or the fake) anything there, from Tommy Bahama to Nike to Hermes. &lt;br /&gt;This is the year of the Expo for Shanghai, and you see the little blue mascot of the Expo everywhere, and I do mean everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;I do love the energy-saver escalators that move very slowly until someone approaches and then it goes full speed. And you have to appreciate that new fast food concept called “Bite Me!” There are way more hipster kids than I’d ever imagine and middle class capitalism is rampant, but you can still see a guy moving a queen size mattress on the back of his bicycle; there are still horse carts hauling bricks and street sweepers using twigs, mixed with all the Hummers and Jaguars.&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed the train transportation the most: both the high-speed overnight train from BJ to SH as well as the very fast “maglev” train from central SH to the airport. On the overnight train, I booked a “soft sleeper,” which meant it was a room with two bunk beds, with a little table in the center that had four bottles of water and a bouquet of silk flowers, to say nothing of the bathroom slippers we each got. It took about 10 hours, but it was half the money of the plane and much more scenic. &lt;br /&gt;The “maglev” is the new train that goes to the SH airport, at speeds of up to 430 kilometers per hour, about 267 mph. It was a super modern terminal, and easy to navigate. In fact, all of the public transportation I took, including the subways in both BJ and SH, were all efficient and not difficult to figure out – to say nothing of affordable! A typical trip was just 2-3 yuan, about 30-45 cents per trip.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/S89b7XwJ4ZI/AAAAAAAAAu4/DhUZVRL9Us4/s1600/P1010612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/S89b7XwJ4ZI/AAAAAAAAAu4/DhUZVRL9Us4/s200/P1010612.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462685948570100114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm… I had an idea to do a parody of the book “Eat, Pray, Love” and call it “Shove, Spit, Smoke.” But would the Chinese find that offensive??&lt;br /&gt;It’s an interesting place to visit, but I wasn’t looking to become an ex-pat. I have a great group of friends and family here, so why start-over there?&lt;br /&gt;In any case, that’s the short story. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I’ll tell you no lies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-5574059593572181259?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/5574059593572181259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=5574059593572181259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5574059593572181259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5574059593572181259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2010/04/china-syndrome.html' title='The China Syndrome'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/S89UOHD3ovI/AAAAAAAAAuo/H87uGfZpCqU/s72-c/P1010585.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-4981020962948840581</id><published>2009-05-25T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T14:58:01.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Notes from Bismarck, ND</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsRU3bK5vI/AAAAAAAAAag/llC-Ug9DoK0/s1600-h/P1000916.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsRU3bK5vI/AAAAAAAAAag/llC-Ug9DoK0/s200/P1000916.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339880833350821618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hey y'all:&lt;br /&gt;Sorry it's been so long.... this FEMA thing means long hours! But I've been trying to get out and see the sites as I can.&lt;br /&gt;One of the best things about Bismarck is the Grand Theaters, a 15-plex in north Bis that, almost literally, a temple to film. I even sent the owner, Jerry Brekke, a fan email because his place is so incredible. The decor is all faux-Egyptian, with statues and fountains all over. Virtually every wall has either a movie poster or a collage of movie star still photos. Each screen has a curtain, like the old days, which closes after the previews but before the main attraction starts. You don't see that much anymore. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsIp7zlHzI/AAAAAAAAAZw/FT6iZqA_6Kc/s1600-h/P1000935.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsIp7zlHzI/AAAAAAAAAZw/FT6iZqA_6Kc/s200/P1000935.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339871299699547954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Another attraction is in the smaller north lobby, where there's a display -- make that "homage" -- to Charlton Heston and "The 10 Commandments." The water fountain ALMOST makes you think he's parting the Red Sea, except that there are several signs asking you to not throw any coins into the fountain. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsJlD8RRII/AAAAAAAAAZ4/P1r3rCjKWdk/s1600-h/P1000938.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsJlD8RRII/AAAAAAAAAZ4/P1r3rCjKWdk/s200/P1000938.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339872315495761026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lastly, there's also a small museum in a side room that has a bit of history about the Grand, as well as ticket stubs from the 1930s, an old projector and vintage popcorn boxes. Evidently, Mr. Brekke has been a fan of movies since he was a kid, and this theater really shows his love for it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another local hot spot is Scheels Sporting Goods in the Kirkwood Mall. (There are two malls in town, Kirkwood and Gateway Fashion. The latter has a Sears and a few clothing stores filled with low (vs. high) fashions. It basically feels like it's on its last legs...) I'm sure there must be places in Scheels in many towns across America, but I've never seen anything quite like it. There's an extensive gun/rifle/hunting section, as well as fishing, archery and golf. &lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to find much written about the Grand, but it's definitely one of the best things about Bismarck. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsL0XbT16I/AAAAAAAAAaA/DmDNEzDypAI/s1600-h/P1000926.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsL0XbT16I/AAAAAAAAAaA/DmDNEzDypAI/s200/P1000926.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339874777447520162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I've surely never seen a retail store where you can practice your shooting skills with a laser hunting game! I've seen dads there holding up the rifle so the son or daughter (age 2-3) can get their practice shots in... And it also has a large range of stuffed animals, plastic turkeys for decoys and a huge range of camouflage clothing. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsNNmRntLI/AAAAAAAAAaI/Um7XgK8AkiM/s1600-h/P1000932.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsNNmRntLI/AAAAAAAAAaI/Um7XgK8AkiM/s200/P1000932.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339876310441768114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsNwsHw-zI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/GwjKqH58dPw/s1600-h/P1000927.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsNwsHw-zI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/GwjKqH58dPw/s200/P1000927.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339876913306467122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I was there recently, sadly without my camera, when it was obviously prom night in Bismarck. All of the girls were walking around the mall, sort of strutting, while the guys were all inside Scheels getting in a little practice shooting before they headed to dinner.  Scheels doesn't just have sporting goods, however: You can of course buy the ubiquitous bison sausage or buffalo jerky there, along with salt water taffy and homemade fudge. Don't miss it the next time you're in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bismarck, as does much of North Dakota, prides itself on the fact that this is part of where Lewis &amp; Clark came during their big "Discover America" around 1804-06. They wintered not far from Bismarck, and this is where they met up with Sakagawea. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsPcasR4MI/AAAAAAAAAaY/mliiFr4P2RA/s1600-h/P1000911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsPcasR4MI/AAAAAAAAAaY/mliiFr4P2RA/s200/P1000911.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339878764053651650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is her statue, ca. 1910, which sits on the grounds of the state capital, very close to the North Dakota Heritage Center (which just received funding to double its size with a the help of $52 million in state and federal funding!). I also love that the folks who went along on the Lewis &amp; Clark expedition were called the "Corps of Discovery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food-wise, yes this is the land of large portions and large people, mostly white. I think the state is over 90% white. However, it was interesting to find out that FEMA has a program where they find people with limited English language and translate the basic information about flood help for them. In the end, they translated into 14 different languages up here, including Somali, Kurdish, Vietnamese and Dinku. Go FEMA!&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing my best to hit the locals food spots, rather than the national chains (all of which are represented here, of course). Yes, there's Cracker Barrel and Frank's BBQ, but also Bistro, Jack's Steakhouse, Space Alien's and Kroll's. I still have to hit Fried's for its famous "kneophla" (a heavy dumpling soup, pronounced nef-la), and the "fleischkuechle," sort of a deep-fried hamburger in pastry dough. Yep, they do like it rib-stickin' up here.&lt;br /&gt;My other great evening up here was at Pirogue, reputed to be the best in town. It's chef-owned and operated, and they do try and buy the best local products they can including meats, honey and grains. I've been twice, most recently with a wonderful local farmer by the name of Jay Basquiat. I read about him in the local papers and decided to meet him and he graciously met up with me, a total stranger. He has a website, that I'll list below, called Baskets of Plenty. What he does is grow vegetables for 40 local families, all of whom pay him for his time and he re-pays them with weekly bushels of fresh veggies. He's an incredible guy who lived in California for 10 years but decided to come home to ND. We sat and talked for 3.5 hours, and he was a wealth of information. His grandmother never went past 25 miles of where she was born (not unusual up here, come to find out); he lives as "off the grid" as possible; and he told me about some of the cool artists who live and work up here, including one guy who "paints" with corn. I'll keep searching for that one, and get back to ya! Here's his link, sorry I can't figure out how to hyperlink it so you'll have to cut and paste.&lt;br /&gt;http://web.me.com/basketsofplenty/Baskets_of_Plenty_Produce/Welcome.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-4981020962948840581?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/4981020962948840581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=4981020962948840581' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/4981020962948840581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/4981020962948840581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2009/05/notes-from-bismarck-nd.html' title='Notes from Bismarck, ND'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/ShsRU3bK5vI/AAAAAAAAAag/llC-Ug9DoK0/s72-c/P1000916.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-1615999839585994707</id><published>2009-04-22T11:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T12:01:47.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bismarck, Baby!</title><content type='html'>Yep, I'm in Bismarck, North Dakota.&lt;br /&gt;That's north of Denver, but not as far north as the North Pole (but almost).&lt;br /&gt;We need to catch up...... but the short story is that I finally (after five months) got hired by FEMA,  as a writer/researcher. &lt;br /&gt;I went into the regional office in Denver and worked for a few weeks, and then they sent me ("deployed me" in FEMA-talk) to Bismarck. It's all about the flooding up here, which seems to never end.&lt;br /&gt;I've been here for two weeks, since April 8, and I could be here for another 2, 3 or 4 weeks.... who knows?? It's all about being "FEMA Flexible."&lt;br /&gt;I'll be posting more stuff up here soon, because of course it's all new to me here so I'll be out exploring in my off time. (Which isn't much, considering I've been working 12 hours a day, 7 days a week so far... I'm up at 5 a.m., at work by 5:45 a.m.)&lt;br /&gt;Mostly, I just wanted to see if this blog was still working, and evidently it is! (Thanks Dave!!)&lt;br /&gt;Talk to you soon, &lt;br /&gt;Thom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-1615999839585994707?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/1615999839585994707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=1615999839585994707' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1615999839585994707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1615999839585994707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2009/04/bismarck-baby.html' title='Bismarck, Baby!'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-9159793987020734919</id><published>2008-09-14T13:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:14:51.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A BIG change of plans.....</title><content type='html'>Well, what can I say? You have to be ready for change when you travel.&lt;br /&gt;I was out last night and came home late, around midnight. I noticed there was a text message on my mobile phone that I hadn't noticed. The text had come in around 9:15 pm.&lt;br /&gt;I'll just quote it verbatim: "I am a KILLER!!! I kill people for money. But you are My FRIEND... I will kill you "FOR FREE."&lt;br /&gt;Now imagine, being alone in a hotel in Alexandria, Egypt, not really knowing anyone well. Going to the police didn't seem wise, because of all you hear about the problems and corruption within the police departments here. The number wasn't one I recognized, nor had I given my cell number to very many people here. But I had met many of Mohammed's friends, and most of them knew where I was staying, at the Hotel Capry (sic), and they also knew my travel plans to head to the Sinai. Could they follow me? Probably not, but one never knows. &lt;br /&gt;I sort of freaked out a bit. Looking back, perhaps I over-reacted, but I did feel a strong sense of danger, and I felt like I should follow my instincts and get the hell out of here. I didn't sleep that night a wink, but got up as soon as I thought the shops might start opening, around 9 am, and I went and bought an airline ticket back to the good ol' United States. &lt;br /&gt;Surprised? Me too.&lt;br /&gt;Yep, I"m coming home early, and not going to Jordan or Israel. Part of me feels like I've done enough already on this trip, while of course I have some second thoughts on whether I should've kept traveling. All I can say is that, at the time, it felt better to head home. Better safe than sorry, that sort of rationale.&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me that Egyptians have a very weird sense of humor, and it could've been someone's idea of a joke. But, of course, it didn't seem funny to me at all. It just didn't feel like something you would chalk up to a "cultural misunderstanding." The text felt angry, like it was coming from someone I had irritated. Or perhaps they just didn't like Americans. Who knows? &lt;br /&gt;I've thought and thought about who it could be, and I'm sure it had to be someone, somehow connected with Mohammed. I do like the guy, but I did at times question his judgement in friends. Trying to talk to him about this was an exercise in frustration, in any case.&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I do feel a sort of relief. The next month was going to be difficult, mostly the Israeli portion because I would've hit Israel during the high holy days of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. That's a major holiday period for Israeli's, naturally, and the country shuts down, hotels are booked and prices go up. Plus, I wasn't getting much response from friends there who I was trying to connect with. &lt;br /&gt;In a certain way, I didn't do a very good job of planning this trip, in that I hit Ramadan throughout Tunisia and Egypt, and then the holidays in Israel as well. Me bad, but how can one know unless you've been here?&lt;br /&gt;I have no regrets. I feel as though this will propel me to figure out the "what's next" for my life, whether it be in Denver, in Beijing or somewhere I haven't thought of yet. There's still a prospect of a getting on with FEMA, and I have a few ideas brewing on my own (as I blogged about last month). So we'll see. All's well that ends well.&lt;br /&gt;SORRY that I won't be going to Petra for ya, but I suppose it will still be there the next time. So, a month ahead of time, perhaps the next time I see you will be in Denver?? I look forward to it.&lt;br /&gt;Please feel free to let me know what you would've done in this situation. But please don't be too quick to judge, just as I am trying hard not to be too judgmental of all Egyptians.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-9159793987020734919?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/9159793987020734919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=9159793987020734919' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/9159793987020734919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/9159793987020734919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/big-change-of-plans.html' title='A BIG change of plans.....'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-1166806101650773418</id><published>2008-09-13T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T12:17:08.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sinai on Sunday</title><content type='html'>Can you say that three times fast: Sinai on Sunday?&lt;br /&gt;With just a tinge of sadness, I’m taking the bus tomorrow to Dahab, which is on the east coast of the Sinai. It’s supposed to be more of a laid back, “hippie” resort, with excellent diving and beaches (not that I’m much of a sun person…) I might not spend much time there, however, because I'm running into yet-another potential religious conflict with Israel. The way it's timing, I could end up being in Israel during the high holy days of Roshashan and Yom Kippur, and I've been told that travel is more complicated then, hotel rates go up, etc. etc. In fact, the Lonely Planet book advises you to try and avoid going there all together -- and those holidays are Oct. 2 and 9. So I might speed things up a bit: go to Sinai and get the ferry to Jordan, and then go directly to Petra and Wadi Rum, which would then get me into Israel by next weekend. It's moving quickly, but I think it might be the better idea.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve sort of gotten into the pace of Alexandria while I've been here, hanging out and drinking coffee (or small bottles of Sprite, for 40 cents each) at the cafes. Most of the time I’m with Mohammed, my buddy here, or any number of his friends. It just amazes me how much they know about American culture. It’s frightening actually. Everything from Tweety Bird to Limp Biskit (the band) – not much escapes them. All of them listen to American music, and sing along to all of the lyrics, many times not even knowing what they’re saying.&lt;br /&gt;I love how the cafes all serve their drinks on a metal tray, and always with a glass of water on the side. Sometimes, the street kids who beg or try to sell little packets of Kleenex will come in and ask if they can drink you glass of water. They do, and then scamper out.&lt;br /&gt;It’s also a sign of respect that when you see someone you know, and like, you’ll kiss them on each cheek once or twice (each side), and then put your right hand up to your heart. Everyone does it, but none more than café or restaurant hosts. They’re consummate hosts. And, of course, they’ll never kick you out. Sometimes I notice that people will just come into the café to sit for a few minutes, not order anything, never get bothered, and then get up and leave. Last night, I saw an older man walk over to a table near the window, take off his prosthetic leg (from the knee down), clean it, and then moved his chair so that it was facing east and he began to pray.&lt;br /&gt;Can you imagine sitting for hours, and all it cost you was 40 cents?&lt;br /&gt;If Mo and I plan to meet, he usually says something like “We meet ten-and-half,” meaning 10:30 pm. That’s a normal meeting time, especially at night and even more so during Ramadan. Everyone stays up as late as possible. There’s also been some articles in the paper, trying to get people to eat less food and healthier food during Ramadan. Evidently, people gorge themselves so much after fasting all day that it brings on a multitude of problems, from indigestion to heart attacks!&lt;br /&gt;There’s always one guy who is the cashier at the café. He just sits there, doesn’t seem to really notice what’s going on around him, but he ALWAYS knows what’s being served, to whom, and who has paid and who hasn’t. &lt;br /&gt;If you’re looking for a business to try in Egypt, you might want to manufacture or import fly swatters, or perhaps those fly strips with sticky paper that traps the flies. They’re beasts here, but no one seems to mind.&lt;br /&gt;If anyone wants to get your attention, they do this sort of “tsssst” sort of sound. But they all do it at the same pitch, so somehow everyone knows that sound.&lt;br /&gt;It's interesting to see the woman in their full hijab going swimming! Nope, they won't wear swimsuits, but they still get into the water, fully clothed, and take a dip. I didn't want to take a picture, however, seemed too intrusive.&lt;br /&gt;I went to dinner last night at a place called Nassar, presumably after the ex-President? I like to try the Ramadan-plate specials, but I should’ve asked more questions this time. It was a huge beef shank, plus a rather green-looking stuffed pigeon (stuffed with rice), these wrapped vegetables and stuffed potatoes, along with rice with chicken livers and French fries. That was about $9, which is quite expensive, but when you add a beer, tax and the service charges, it was almost $15 – quite a grand feast for Egypt.&lt;br /&gt;See you in Sinai!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-1166806101650773418?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/1166806101650773418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=1166806101650773418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1166806101650773418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1166806101650773418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/sinai-on-sunday.html' title='Sinai on Sunday'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-8492548952549071567</id><published>2008-09-12T01:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T01:55:56.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What’s the happening in Alex?</title><content type='html'>I’ve settled into the slower pace of Alex(andria) quite nicely… Getting away from those horrible touts in Cairo has had enormous benefits. (In case you missed it: a tout is a person, 99.9% of the time a guy, who tries to get you to do something you don’t really want to do, like come into their store “just to look” or to take their hyper-expensive taxi cab, or come stay at their “very nice” hotel.)&lt;br /&gt;I spent a few hours at the Naitonal Museum of Alexandria, which is a former consulate building that was turned into a museum about five years ago. While the exhibit descriptions were the best I’ve seen, all of it was lit in a very moody, dark manner, making things hard to see. But I’m sure the museum director thought it was compelling.&lt;br /&gt;I continue to try and comprehend the scale of history here: the periods, the dynasties and all of the conquering. At one time or another, nearly everyone seems to have had their hands in the Egyptian pie, including the French and the Brits. During the time of Jesus, Alex was considered the intellectual and cultural capital of the world, yet they also say that the glory days here were really in the 12th to the 15th centuries!&lt;br /&gt;It’s always hard being an editor tho, because I’m always wanting to correct those English grammatical errors. The guide pamphlet to Alex was so bad that I asked if I could take a whack at editing it, making sure I wasn’t offending anyone. They seemed thrilled that I would do that for me, and I spent a few hours trying to make a few “adjustments” for the next printing. &lt;br /&gt;The other challenge in Egypt, anywhere, is crossing the street. Cars, buses and trucks always have the right of way, and pedestrians seem expendable. That said, I’ve never seen anyone get hit, but it has to happen! The technique I’ve devised is to sort of wait until someone else is heading out, and then use them as my “shield,” although I don’t think they see it the same way. It often happens that you get out into the street and a car speeds up, meaning you need to stand there and hope to hell you don’t get hit. So far, so good. I don’t detect that they’re “after” the foreigners, either.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, feeling safe is something I’m starting to take for granted, at least in Alex. Maybe because it’s Ramadan, and people are holier and kinder at this time of year, but I’d like to think it’s that they just don’t look to harm others anytime. But I walk around at night and never feel any sense of danger or impending doom, which is quite a nice feeling.&lt;br /&gt;I think I’ve said before that it’s common for men to walk around arm in arm. It’s not a sexual thing in the least, and they’re certainly not gay. Rather it’s just a mark of friendship between men, and sometimes women (although not as often it seems). I was walking the other night with Mohammed and he said “give me your arm” and we walked that way for awhile. It felt a little awkward, but then he said that only “best friends” walk arm-in-arm, and that was a nice feeling that he considered me such a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Omar Sharif  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMosIEJQm_I/AAAAAAAAAUw/CZWEgjmJYH4/s1600-h/P1000836.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMosIEJQm_I/AAAAAAAAAUw/CZWEgjmJYH4/s200/P1000836.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245053233089518578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; is in town, too! I can’t tell you the name of the show, but the poster shows him and another guy, with handcuffs on their wrists and looking forlorn. Of course, it’s all in Arabic, and I’ve tried to ask but no one seems to know what the show is about.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I’m not seeing that there’s a lot of support for the performing arts here. Last night, I went to see an Arabic choir perform. It was actually two choirs, one children and the other adults. The kids, all adorable, sang first, then there was an intermission and the adults took over. Much of the Arab music sounds redundant to western ears, and it seemed to my somewhat untrained ear that everything was in two parts, male and female (vs. four parts of soprano, alto, tenor and bass). The choirs would sing as a whole, and then one or three (never two) soloists would come out into the spotlight. I’ve never seen such emotion in singers! Luckily, I sat next to a guy who spoke some English and he would give me the briefest explanation of what the songs were about: “this is about the sun” or “they sing about their mothers.”  That helped, of course, but mostly it was just a pleasure to see the amount of energy and rehearsals that went into it. All of the people talking throughout the show was a bit of a distraction… and the show ended with the conductor singing a short solo!&lt;br /&gt;After the show, which last over two and a half hours, I strolled back to the hotel. Even though it was midnight, you would think that it was the afternoon: there were so many lights on, so many families and kids out shopping or walking. There was a street carnival, for lack of a better word, with rides like bumper cars, a small ferris wheel and spinning cups. Of course, all I could think was “these kids should be in bed!” Further down the street, all the men were of course happily sitting at their favorite café, drinking coffee, talking and smoking shisha (the water pipe). Another night in Alex.&lt;br /&gt;Three more quick things: I love how a prayer to Allah starts playing every time that the elevator door closes at my hotel. It’s a seven-story ride in a somewhat rickety lift, but I somehow don’t think it was anyone’s idea of a joke…&lt;br /&gt;And the names of the stores are always amusing: My favorites so far are Just… (that’s the name, just Just…), Marilyn Monroe and Tommy XXL.&lt;br /&gt;And finally, for some reason, Egyptians love things LOUD. Especially their television shows. If it's in a store, or in the hotel lobby or, worst of the all, the hotel room next to you, they love it, or need it, at the highest volumn possible. Mh theory, of course, is that the whole country is so loud due to traffic and horns honking, that they're all going deaf!&lt;br /&gt;I’m still planning on leaving this weekend for the Sinai… but we’ll chat about that later.&lt;br /&gt;In the Muslim world, Friday is their Sunday, so take it easy today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-8492548952549071567?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/8492548952549071567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=8492548952549071567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/8492548952549071567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/8492548952549071567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/whats-happening-in-alex.html' title='What’s the happening in Alex?'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMosIEJQm_I/AAAAAAAAAUw/CZWEgjmJYH4/s72-c/P1000836.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-5072290511367547098</id><published>2008-09-10T07:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T09:27:22.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alexandria, anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMjuQsqrgYI/AAAAAAAAAUY/Aa4-7AM0FwM/s1600-h/P1000808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMjuQsqrgYI/AAAAAAAAAUY/Aa4-7AM0FwM/s320/P1000808.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244703736708432258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I FINALLY FOUND A SANTA FOR MY COLLECTION!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They call it Alex here, by the way, not Alexandria... the fabled city built by Alexander the Great. The largest port in Egypt, home of the famous light tower (now in the sea) and the Library of Alexandria, once the most famous in all the world.&lt;br /&gt;Getting here was a snap. I took the Cairo metro to the train station, and paid 48 pounds (or about $9) for a first class ticket to Alex. I had a woman in front of me in full Muslim-wear, with even her hands covered and just her eyes showing... and all she did the whole ride was read the Koran and talk on her cellphone!&lt;br /&gt;I tipped the porter 2 pounds, which is standard, and he looked down at the money like I had handed him a turd. He never spoke English to me until then, when he said/demanded "5 pounds!" I wasn't up for the argument, over 60 cents, so I gave him the five pound note. And then he was all smiles the rest of the way.&lt;br /&gt;Another "trick" I've seen in Egypt is that you go into a cafe and, say, order a juice. But they'll also bring you something extra, like a bottle of water or a roll, to see if you'll eat or drink it and then have to pay for it. Happens all the time.&lt;br /&gt;Or they'll also refuse to show you the menu, and just yell "Just order, what you want?!" But you have to always find out the prices, because I've learned that a can of diet coke can cost anywhere from 6 to 20 pounds....&lt;br /&gt;If I were to maybe do anything over here, I'd open a "service industry training" company. I can't believe how poorly trained the staff are at so many places. OK, I'm sure they train them better at the five-star places, but I can't afford them. I'm not kidding when I tell you that I was standing at the reception desk at the hotel the other day, and four of them were all trying to do something, or look for something. After quite a ruckus, one guy finally got what he was after: a rubber band! All of that while three of us stood there waiting to check in.&lt;br /&gt;During Ramadan, you feel bad just guzzling water in the heat, and I find that I will "sneak" sips of water, because the Muslims can't drink or eat anything until sunset. &lt;br /&gt;The pace in Alex is nice, however, or much nicer than Cairo. Yes, it's still noisy, but not as dirty. You often see people washing the inside of their cafe, or the sidewalk, which I never saw in Cairo. I love when it then quiets down at sunset while people eat and pray, and watch TV. But then around 9 pm or so, the streets start to fill up again as people all go out strolling, or shopping. The fireworks start, and the cotton candy vendors appear as they honk their "goose horns" to let the kids know they're around. The men all make their way to the cafes where they get a coffee and stoke up a "shisha," the waterpipe. (I guess they're more popular in Alex than in Cairo because the humidity doesn't dry them out as fast.) There are small street carnivals, as well as everything else open late -- barbershops, upholstery shops, cleaners, etc. etc. (I was told that Ramadan is more of a religious holiday, but it seems like a festival in my book!)&lt;br /&gt;You'll also see people praying anywhere:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMjoTIoZKCI/AAAAAAAAAUI/T4vDnRwDBPY/s1600-h/P1000795.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMjoTIoZKCI/AAAAAAAAAUI/T4vDnRwDBPY/s200/P1000795.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244697181505005602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the lobby of a building, on the street, or at a gas station where they seemed to be waiting for their cars to be repaired or cleaned, and get in a few prayers as well. Guys will either have a small carpet to pray on, or many places (especially during Ramadan) will lay out vast carpets for people to use for prayers.&lt;br /&gt;The locals often stare at my legs if I'm wearing shorts, I've noticed. Not that I have great legs, altho they are WHITE, but I've also observed that none of the men here wear shorts, not even below the ankle. I'm not sure what that's all about, but I do find that I "blend in" more if I wear long pants.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also just beginning to understand the nuances of woman and scarves. Some wear none, which means they're probably Christian, or a very liberal Muslim. Others wear just head scarf, while the most religious (and militant) wear the full gear.&lt;br /&gt;By the way, they do publish the five prayer times in the papers here, in case you missed hearing the calls to prayer booming out of each mosque.&lt;br /&gt;My hotel in Alex, the lovely New Capry, gave me a room with a view of the Mediterranean with bath and breakfast for $15/night. No joke, 75 pounds. True, many of you probably wouldn't want to stay there, but it's fine for me, even with relatively soft pillows, and eight channels of cable TV, all in Arabic except for one channel that shows Hanna-Barbera cartoons 24-=hours a day (maybe for Ramadan?). They also did a whole pile of my clothes for $4. Gotta love it.&lt;br /&gt;There are also cooking shows, all with women chefs, who seem to prepare variations of the same thing: onions sauteed, with ground beef and spices, mixed with couscous and topped with cheese and parsley. At least that's what I seem to get from it.&lt;br /&gt;Out on my nightly walks, I spotted a street vendor mixing up some concoction, which turned out to be liver, kidney and god-knows-what (from sheep, I think). One guy just slices, while another sort of boils/sautees the meat in oil, then drains it and puts it on what amounts to a hot dog bun. It was dark, but I'll try and get back for a pic of it.&lt;br /&gt;And then there's Mohammed... He's a kid (22 years old) who I met in a coffee shop. I thought he was Christian, because he was drinking coffee during the day, but it turns out he's more of a "bad boy" Muslim. His friends came to meet him, and their names are Dick and Jack (I kid you not, Jack for Jack Daniels). I think these are the "hip kids" of Alex, because they all have money, and they showed me family ID cards where the dads are in the government in some capacity.&lt;br /&gt;One might, Mo said they wanted to take me to a special place... I said no, but they really wanted me to see this place. Of course, I was sure I was going to be killed and they would rob me for the $20 I had on me... But it turned out to be a place near where they make boats where the "hip kids of Alex" all go to smoke hash! &lt;br /&gt;Now, before you freak out, of course I didn't smoke any (the thought of being stoned in Alexandria was too much to comtemplate), and I even left early. They understood, and even walked me out to the street and helped me catch a taxi back to the hotel. Never a dull moment, eh?&lt;br /&gt;I spent a few hours at the new Biblioteca, or the new Alex Library. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMjqbjNfE2I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/mu3N0X-V7q0/s1600-h/P1000812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMjqbjNfE2I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/mu3N0X-V7q0/s200/P1000812.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244699525102113634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's quite a building, massive in fact, and relatively new. It houses several museums, as well as a planetarium and many auditoriums for concerts and lectures. It can eventually house a million books, but they're also quite progressive with their new media and internt use. There's a huge exhibit of Shadi Abdel Salam, the Egyptian director who made one big movie in 1969 called "The Night of Counting the Years." Anyone seen it, you movie buffs? They had production stills from it, as well as costume renderings and a reproduction of his library. &lt;br /&gt;Also, I take it that someone "took" this enormous column called "Cleopatra's Needle," and it now sits in Central Park, NYC??? Anyone know anything about that one??&lt;br /&gt;I'm more and more convinced that the best time to live must've been the 1920s, between the wars but before the Great Depression. Just looking at the photo exhibit of life in Alex during those years, there was such a renaissance of architecture and building... it must've been incredible to be here during that time. Of course, it's been on a gradual decline ever since, as is the case in so many places.&lt;br /&gt;I asked about getting a manicure here, and they just laughed at me... "Men don't get these things." Imagine if I'd asked for a mani AND a pedi!&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I saw my first flat screen TV here. I knew they had to be here!&lt;br /&gt;And here's a pic of Mo, my buddy in Alex: &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMlFpO38SyI/AAAAAAAAAUg/NxpHrmfF8NA/s1600-h/P1000792.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMlFpO38SyI/AAAAAAAAAUg/NxpHrmfF8NA/s200/P1000792.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244799815719340834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll stay here in Alex until Saturday the 13th, and then head to the Sinai. Unless you have a better idea?? Mo wants to go to Dahab, in the Sinai, with me, and he says he has the money to do it. He just wants to travel, and he has ten days off before he starts school. We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;I found out that my hotel has no computers, but it has an ethernet connection with DSL! So I'll try and upload more pix, as time allows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-5072290511367547098?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/5072290511367547098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=5072290511367547098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5072290511367547098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5072290511367547098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/alexandria-anyone.html' title='Alexandria, anyone?'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMjuQsqrgYI/AAAAAAAAAUY/Aa4-7AM0FwM/s72-c/P1000808.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-7461645487179788711</id><published>2008-09-07T23:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T09:37:33.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cairo Update</title><content type='html'>Where to start?&lt;br /&gt;So basically, I’ve done the three things I most wanted to do in Egypt: I’ve been to the Egyptian Museum (all five hours of it, virtually without stopping); I’ve been to the pyramids, some of it on the back of a camel; and I’ve ridden in a felucca, the sail boats that ply the waters of the Nile.&lt;br /&gt;Can I come home now? Just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;Those parts have been wonderful. &lt;br /&gt;Going out to Giza and seeing the pyramids was a surprise. I knew that they were not far outside of Cairo, but they’re literally about a half hour south. In fact, the city has grown around them on three sides (east, west and north), but the south side still just pours out onto the Sahara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMTO1DKUxeI/AAAAAAAAAT4/YLjh4rfnag4/s1600-h/P1000673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMTO1DKUxeI/AAAAAAAAAT4/YLjh4rfnag4/s200/P1000673.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243543276943099362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I spent the day with Hamem, the driver who picked me up at the airport. Again, he doesn’t speak much English so I wasn’t always sure where we were headed, except that I knew I could trust him – and he always kept an eye out for me. We would arrive and he dropped me off at the ticket booth, and then told me where he’d pick me up. It was good, for the most part, although I did have a few pangs of guilt when I thought about him having to just sit in the hot car while I waltzed around the pyramids… (BTW, for the day, I paid him 200 Egyptian pounds, which is about $40, and he seemed quite happy with that.)&lt;br /&gt;We first went to the lookout point, along with 6,000 tourist buses, to get a sense of the scale of the Giza pyramids (OK, and to get my picture taken on a camel…). You pay one sort-of-low fee to get into the pyramid site, and then each of the exhibits costs extra (and some of them are quite high!). It costs 50 pounds (or $10) to just get in, and then the individual tombs can cost anywhere from $5 to $20 more, each. Yes, tourism costs do add up in Egypt. Several were closed, so that saved me the agony of having to choose…&lt;br /&gt;What can I say? The pyramids have been here for over 3,000 years, and no one can still understand how or why… and yet they exist. (But did aliens help them!?!?! I couldn’t find anyone who would venture an answer to that, nor do I think they really understood the question.) Since I was on my own, I did what you do: listen in on the other guides. I could find some in English, but more in Spanish, so my bad Spanish helped a bit.&lt;br /&gt;Then there’s the sphinx… It’s just smaller that I thought. I guess it’s that you’ve seen the photos forever, and shot from the front is does look imposing. But in actuality, its size was dwarfed by the nearby pyramids – but please don’t think that I was disappointed in any way. How could I? The cost to get into Giza included the sphinx!&lt;br /&gt;Then we drove to Sahkarra, which is where the earlier pyramid was built, the one that looks like stepping stones. It was built something like 3,5000 years ago, sort of an early part of the learning curve before they figured out how to slope and angle the sides.&lt;br /&gt;On the way back from there, we ran into a horrible traffic jam, which I later found out was because of the rock slide that happened in south Cairo and killed a number of people. We ended up backtracking and going around the bedlam, and made it home safe and sound.&lt;br /&gt;Today (Sunday Sept 7) was spent at the main market in Cairo, called Khan al-Khalili. It took me awhile to find the place, even though it stretches on for many, many blocks. It’s a bit of a labyrinth, and I was warned about the aggressive sales guys. But generally they were pretty light-hearted about their game…. And believe it when I say that it’s obvious they know how to sell, since they’ve been doing it here for centuries! If they ask what you’re looking for and you say “nothing,” they say “come into my shop, I have nothing.” It’s that sort of game. Surprisingly, only a few were aggravatingly aggressive and would call out to you for half a block before they finally got it that you weren’t coming into their store.&lt;br /&gt;They also love to ask “where you from,” so of course I would vary it up. If I said Canada, they invariably would say “Canada Dry,” as in the soft drink. If I said Holland, they’d say “you want some hashish?” knowing full well that no one is selling that in the market.&lt;br /&gt;The market has pretty much anything you’d want, from gold to toilet paper, and about everything in between. Lots of it is similar, redundantly so. But every now and then you spot something different, like some amazing light fixtures that I’d buy if I had any way to get them home for less than a grand. I was a bit surprised to see the sexy lingerie, with feather ruffles even and in wild colors like red and pink. Also, there were many shops selling very fancy, expensive, Western-style wedding dresses.  (The local paper here had a huge half page spread on some TV presenters wedding, with women in strapless gowns and all looking very sexy. It’s part of the dichotomy of the Arab world that still perplexes me, as many women on the street wear the robes where you can only see their eyes.)&lt;br /&gt;I was standing at the door of a mosque, and a very nice man motioned for me to come in. I never know if it’s allowed, since some do and some don’t. But this was a very old mosque and evidently it’s allowed. The first thing you notice is how cool it is, from the fans as well as from the ceiling height being so tall, so consequently many guys are just lounging or napping. It was fully carpeted, and everyone has to take off their shoes and either carry them or check them with a gay at the entrance. I was shown the holy room, which somewhat looks like Mecca. Guys would come in, some would kiss each step as they arrived, and many would go around kissing every railing, doorknob and wall, always praying as they go.&lt;br /&gt;After leaving, I tried asking a policeman how much a taxi would cost to get to my metro station. He said 20 pounds, and then asked if I wanted him to get me a taxi. (Clearly, he would’ve gotten a big commission for that…) I said no, because I knew that was way too much. Instead I heard a guy ask a taxi driver to the same metro station, so I asked if I could go with him and he said sure….. and it cost me 2 pounds instead of 20. What you go through to save $3.&lt;br /&gt;Then I walked over to the Nile River, to where I thought there would be some feluccas (the sailboats). It seemed very slow, so I didn’t have to bargain very hard. I ended up paying 50 pounds (or $10) for an hour on the Nile, just me and Captain Helme! He didn’t speak a word of English, except somehow he knew the word “zigzag,” which is exactly the method he used to get us back into port. OK, it wasn’t two days on the Nile at Luxor, but I get the whole gist of what the felucca thing is all about. I major hotels (Four Seasons, Grand Hyatt, Hilton) are all right on the Nile as well.&lt;br /&gt;And now…. Just some random notes on Cairo and Egypt.&lt;br /&gt;• I don’t think I’ve ever seen to many palm trees laden with dates… at least we know where they come from now, just like the olives from Tunisia.&lt;br /&gt;• During Ramadan, the restaurants and cafes are either closed or empty, but by late afternoon, before sunset, you can see people starting to drift in, waiting until it’s official and they can finally eat. If you have family, you generally eat with them, but restaurants do open after dark. There are also places set up that seem to be feeding the homeless (or that’s how it appears, which would make sense since Ramadan is all about giving of yourself to God.)&lt;br /&gt;• One of the primary employers has to be the police departments and the national guard. There are SO many policemen out on duty, sometimes 3-4 at a station, most with guns or rifles, and almost all looking extremely bored.&lt;br /&gt;• I told you that the best and fastest, and free, wifi is at McDonald’s. It’s amazing, and they don’t care how long you stay online. I always buy a coke or an ice cream, although other seems to just come in and use it for free. There is that “McArabia” on the menu that I should try tho… evidently it has garlic sauce and onion.&lt;br /&gt;• Egypt is the economic powerhouse for all of the Arab world, there’s just no way around it. They’re consumers, and export as well, and shopping seems to be a national pastime. But if you want to succeed in the Arab arts, politics, technology, fashion, etc. etc., you must “make it” here in Cairo first.&lt;br /&gt;• Also during Ramadan, there are many special soap operas that show at night, specifically made and geared for that time after dinner when the family is sitting around and looking for something to do. Evidently, many of them either ratchet up the story line, or bring in big name stars during Ramadan, all to capture your interest.&lt;br /&gt;• One thing about Cairo: no two of anything is alike. There’s no cookie cutter aspect, and every car, home, door, street, metro stop, bus and on and on is different from the next.  I haven’t been out to the nouveau riche parts of Cairo, with names like West Lake and Le Grande, but I bet you they don’t all look the same. That said, I do wonder if any construction projects get done here, since the vast majority seem to be stalled or abandoned.&lt;br /&gt;•  There are women-only cars on the subways here, and they’ll tell the men to get off if you accidentally get on one. (I know!)&lt;br /&gt;• There was an article in the Egypt Times, the English-language daily newspaper that comes with the International Herald Trib, about how one of the leading Muslim clerics has said that good Muslims should not celebrate birthdays. (Not all the clerics agree on this matter, however.) They do celebrate Muhammed’s birthday, but that’s it. The article said that birthdays are a “western innovation” and someone in the article said that birthdays only “remind me that I am closer to death.” But some parents still put on birthday parties for their kids, and that can include clowns, cake and pony rides at vast expense. However, some of the merchants report that it can be hard to get birthday items imported, like balloons and such, and that they can also be hassled by the “religious police.” Eh?? What’s that??&lt;br /&gt;• A fanous &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMlI6HsCb3I/AAAAAAAAAUo/idvJVbTcjKg/s1600-h/P1000787.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMlI6HsCb3I/AAAAAAAAAUo/idvJVbTcjKg/s200/P1000787.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244803404383022962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; is a lantern that is used only during Ramadan, sort of like a multi-colored Christmas lantern. They used to be homemade from tin and glass, but now the Chinese are making and importing them, which upsets some people here.&lt;br /&gt;• Truth be told, I’m not in love with Cairo. It’s vast, sprawling, decaying, dirty (on the verge of filthy) and noisy, and this from a guy who likes big cities. Yes, it has its history — thousands of years of it. And then Omar Sharif… but what after that? I just don’t find the people very friendly, and sometimes even disdainful, sometimes nearly hostile.&lt;br /&gt;(PS: I really did try and post more pix, but I keep getting some error code from Blogger, and I just don't have to figure out what's going wrong. Again, there will be lots of photos to see, someday!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough for one blog! Up next: Alexandria.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-7461645487179788711?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/7461645487179788711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=7461645487179788711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/7461645487179788711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/7461645487179788711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/cairo-update.html' title='Cairo Update'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMTO1DKUxeI/AAAAAAAAAT4/YLjh4rfnag4/s72-c/P1000673.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-576800301871177201</id><published>2008-09-06T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T11:41:37.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thommy Tourist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMLOL-9n4EI/AAAAAAAAATw/8fey12JJxkU/s1600-h/P1000664.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMLOL-9n4EI/AAAAAAAAATw/8fey12JJxkU/s320/P1000664.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242979621488025666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG! I don't know if I've ever done such a touristy thing, but I had to: It's Egypt, how can you NOT ride a camel!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;I'll write more soon, but I just wanted to get this pic up for your amusement. &lt;br /&gt;(BTW, this doesn't come cheap! There's the entrance fees to the pyramids, then you have to pay all the guys: the guy with the head gear, the guy with the camel, the one guy who can talk English..... it never ends! But it was worth it, I have to say!) More soon, I promise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-576800301871177201?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/576800301871177201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=576800301871177201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/576800301871177201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/576800301871177201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/thommy-tourist.html' title='Thommy Tourist'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMLOL-9n4EI/AAAAAAAAATw/8fey12JJxkU/s72-c/P1000664.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-7040541044765771670</id><published>2008-09-05T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T11:36:46.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Impressions of Cairo</title><content type='html'>It’s barely been a day and my head is already spinning……. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMF5bXqJUjI/AAAAAAAAATg/F_2NDVMvyR4/s1600-h/P1000646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMF5bXqJUjI/AAAAAAAAATg/F_2NDVMvyR4/s200/P1000646.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242604952350183986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But first, indulge me with just a few last (I swear) notes about Tunisia.&lt;br /&gt;The women do love their sparkle there, but it shows up mostly in t-shirts and shoes, both of which take nicely to rhinestones and glitter.&lt;br /&gt;If you’re handicapped in Tunisia, the best I can say is good luck. I saw a very few ramps anywhere, and even the ones I did had a steep incline to them. And you’d be faced with stairs anywhere you go, including (maybe most importantly) any of the public transportation places like bus and train stations. &lt;br /&gt;I think I’ve come to understand a bit more as to why I can often feel so “invisible’ in countries like this: It’s not so much that they don’t want to look at you, but more over that they’re terrified you’re going to ask them a question that they either won’t understand or won’t know the answer. That’s my newest theory on the matter. &lt;br /&gt;Evidently, the wife of the President (Bel Ali) is a major businesswoman throughout Tunisia. One person told me should bought the national airline! But she also does charitable things, so I’m sure there’s some balance. (But man, do they ever have a cult for the President going in Tunisia – his picture is everywhere!)&lt;br /&gt;Tempers seem to be a little shorter during Ramadan, or maybe I’m finally just getting used to how they argue here. It’s often short, but very intense, and then everyone just walks away. Maybe that’s because there are SO many police around, almost all toting a rifle or a gun. &lt;br /&gt;During Ramadan, I do try and not drink in front of others out of respect. That doesn’t mean that I don’t sneak off and have the odd Diet Coke or half liter of water, mind you!&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t think I’ve ever seen more luggage with broken wheels… All of those rickety sidewalks no doubt. But hey: the trains sure do run on time!&lt;br /&gt;I took this as a sign that it was time to move on from Tunisia: just as I was getting ready to leave the hotel room, I turned off the light switch – and the lightbulb burned out. Time to go I’d say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so now onto Egypt.&lt;br /&gt;Phew, let me catch my breath.&lt;br /&gt;I got up at 4:30 am on the 4th of Sept. to get out of the hotel and out onto the street by 5 am to catch a taxi to the airport. No problems with that, surprisingly, and I was one of the first in line to check in for the 7:30 am flight to Cairo (or Le Caire en francais). The café at the airport was open so I snagged a café au lait with a nice pain au chocolat, and then headed on into duty free, where I bought nothing because they only took euros!&lt;br /&gt;I sat there ruminating, however… about how bad I felt that I didn’t do more. There was the artist I met who did some very nice but average watercolors, and he only wanted 10 dinar for them… I should’ve just given him the money and told him to keep up the good work. Or I always try and tip the bathroom attendant ladies as much as possible. What’s a dollar on our end, but it means so much more to them.&lt;br /&gt;Through Servas, the traveler network I belong to, I contacted Dr. Taher in Cairo, seeing if we could meet at least. He not only asked me to come stay at his home, but he also sent his driver to pick me up at the airport! All of our plans worked fine, and the driver was there and ready, which made getting into Cairo SO much easier. He brought me directly to the doctor’s home, and handed me the key to the place and was on his way. That’s what I love about Servas: the trust factor that you can’t find anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;Cairo is one of those mega-cuties of umpteen millions (15? 20?), which sprawls in every direction. At first it reminded me a bit of Mexico, but perhaps with a little India thrown in as well. It’s intense, never stopping for anything and I can see why the locals wouldn’t live anywhere else. &lt;br /&gt;It’s going to take me a bit to learn the money here. Basically, one dollar is worth five Egyptian pounds, so a 100 EP is worth $20, and each pound is broken down into 100 piastres. But the problem is that many of the smaller amounts, like 5, 10 and even 50 are all paper currency for both pounds and piastres. In other words, I wasn’t sure if I was giving someone 50 pounds ($10) or 50 piastres (about 10 cents). I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it. This is one of those places where you need to hang onto the small bills cuz no one ever has any change, especially taxi drivers and shop keepers (and restaurants and food vendors… but I won’t go into that).&lt;br /&gt;I sat up and chatted with the good doctor last night, but I did find that getting up so early had taken its toll so I headed to bed so that I could get up early for my first big adventure in Cairo…. The Egyptian Museum. It’s a fabled place, and one that I’ve read about for years and always wanted to visit.&lt;br /&gt;I got up and left before the doc was up, before 9 am. I had directions to the metro that got me there in no time – and a one way metro (subway) ride from Dokki, where I’m staying, to downtown was one pound, or about 20 cents. Take that, London $8-one-way Underground!&lt;br /&gt;Finding the museum isn’t difficult, since it’s monstrous and takes up at least four city blocks, in all its pink stone glory. I only had three guides ask me if I wanted an English-speaking guide for the museum, which I waved off  since I wanted to experience it in my own time and my own pace (because guides tend to push you along so they can move onto the next victim). Oh, and a plus is that you can horn in on any of the many guides giving talks, so who needs a private guide?&lt;br /&gt;The highlights are, of course King Tut, which toured the States a decade or two ago, and the mummies….. oh the mummies. So many of them, and it’s hard to keep all of the dynasties and ages straight. I did get the old, middle and new ages, plus the years after the Roman invasion and conquering, which became the Coptic years. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMF7K509QZI/AAAAAAAAATo/wsUtfgz_rcc/s1600-h/P1000625.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMF7K509QZI/AAAAAAAAATo/wsUtfgz_rcc/s200/P1000625.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242606868487815570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, no picture taking is allowed in the museum (so this photo was NOT shot there.... yeah right). You go through a screener plus a guard pats you down. I did have my camera in my pocket, but he didn’t say anything. My thinking is that they know you might sneak in a few shots, but there’s also a bit of a side business (off the record) where the guards will show you a special exhibit or room, or some will even let you slip in a photo as they watch – but you then need to slip them five pounds or so….. (a buck).  Many of the guards were also either reading the Koran (because it’s Ramadan) or just looking plain bored.&lt;br /&gt;I did love the exhibits marked: This case is of little or no interest to the visitor.” No joke, it said that. So why is it there? It’s been said that this is one of the worst curated museums in the world, and I might have to agree. Dusty, poorly lit, with descriptions typed up in the 1920s and now on faded cards, or hand-written cards in their place. But don’t get me wrong! I spend almost five hours there!!&lt;br /&gt;I loved some of the titles they ancient Egyptians gave to their staff: Master of the Secrets of the Toilets, called Ra-Wer; Seneb, the chief dwarf of all wardrobes (evidently dwarves were held in high esteen); the Overseer of the Fishing Boats; Khnoumhotep, the overseer of linen; the famous scribe, Mitri, who was honored with an effigy made of wood and gold (very expensive); and of course, Taweret, the goddess of fertility. &lt;br /&gt;What else do I remember: the sandals made from reeds, over 2000 years old but still looking wearable; the alabaster candelabras from 300-600 AD;  the fact that Egypians wore kilts – at least that’s what they called them in the descriptions; and how so many kings had beds ready and waiting for the after life… so many beds. I remember seeing the Tut show before, but this has far more of the pieces: many necklaces that I don’t remember ever seeing, bracelets, rings, arm bands, so much gold, often with lapis, and all of it takes up at least five or six rooms.&lt;br /&gt;Also, seeing so much statuary in one place, it’s amazing how virtually ALL the men had broad shoulders, tiny waists and amazing pectoral muscles. How did they do it? &lt;br /&gt;We have digital imaging available now to communicate who we are and what we’re doing, but all they had was mostly stone and wood. What an amazing trove of history, all in one place. There’s supposedly over 100,000 exhibits within the museum, and they say if you spent one minute at each one, it would take you nine months to see it all. OK, so I made five hours, but I’m super glad I made it!&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow: The pyramids of Giza!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-7040541044765771670?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/7040541044765771670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=7040541044765771670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/7040541044765771670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/7040541044765771670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/first-impressions-of-cairo.html' title='First Impressions of Cairo'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMF5bXqJUjI/AAAAAAAAATg/F_2NDVMvyR4/s72-c/P1000646.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-354098518788109220</id><published>2008-09-03T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T08:09:58.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Thoughts from Tunis</title><content type='html'>I took a "louage," sort of a shared mini-van, from Mahdia to Tunis yesterday. As I was getting out of the van, a girl in the front seat slammed the door onto my finger. She asked if it was OK, and I said NO! But there wasn't much I could do. It isn't crushed or swollen, but it seems a little bent now... Oh well, the rigors of travel.&lt;br /&gt;Then when I got to Tunis, I tried using my credit card and it was declined, so I called the bank... and they had canceled the card because it had been "compromised." Evidently, someone got the credit card numbers from some place I had used it, and all credit card numbers had to be cancelled. They're supposed to FedEx me a new card to Cairo... and I'll remain hopeful. Of course I have other cards to use, but this was the main one.&lt;br /&gt;It's Ramadan now, for a MONTH, where the Muslims don't eat or drink while the sun is up. Tunis is quite different during this time. Most shops close by early evening, as everyone prepares to eat as soon as the sun goes down. During the day, all of the many sidewalk coffee shops are closed now for Ramadan, which means all those men who sit out there for hours seem to have nothing to do except look forlorn -- for a month?! Some of the restaurants serve a prix fixe meal at dinner after sunset, like a buffet, where all the food is ready to eat as soon as you get "the word" from the loudspeakers at the mosque. They all pile on the food and go for it, as they haven't eaten all day. They said that Ramadan is no problem for tourists, but it sort of is because all the restaurants are closed. I can get water and snacks at the little kiosks, but that's about it. One person finally asked me: "Why (you) here during Ramadan?" Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;I do try and remain sensitive to Ramadan. The other day, I bought a small candy bar (called a Monopole, sort of like KitKat), and I just opened it up and ate it at the bus station I was in. But then I realized that people were looking at me... because it's really not polite during Ramadan to eat in front of others if you're a tourist or a non-Muslim. It's not the end of the world, but I do try and be conscious of such things, like any good traveler.&lt;br /&gt;But, in general, the Tunisians are very nice. As I was calling back to the States to speak with my bank, the phone center closed and they pulled down the gates even tho I was in there alone. But they said no problem, and when I got out they asked if I wanted to eat with them. It was a very kind gesture.&lt;br /&gt;BTW, they pronouse mosque as "mos-kay," at least in English.&lt;br /&gt;And I was thinking the other day: I have not seen one single dog the whole time I've been in Tunisia. Not sure what's up with that, but if I find out I will tell ya.&lt;br /&gt;I've been able to see some of the RNC stuff on Al Jazeera television. It was interesting that Bush would only send his endorsement via video, not in person. However, no one here speculated as to why? Maybe because he wasn't wanted? And there's fighting in Thailand, and floods in India... and three more hurricanes after Gustav. SOunds like a job for.... FEMA!&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to confirm my onward ticket, and exchange some money for Egyptian pounds. Wish me luck cuz I need to be gone by 5 a.m. tomorrow to get to the airport in time. No problem, the calls from the mos-kay will wake me up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-354098518788109220?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/354098518788109220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=354098518788109220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/354098518788109220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/354098518788109220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/final-thoughts-from-tunis.html' title='Final Thoughts from Tunis'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-1328188917257446416</id><published>2008-09-02T02:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T10:05:35.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A few notes from Tunisia</title><content type='html'>Ramadan started yesterday, Sept 1. Evidently, the imam (holy man) looks at the moon and decides which day it will start exactly. In some countries, it might not start until today, depending on what they say. Kind of strange, but no one seems to think it odd.&lt;br /&gt;You know it's Ramadan by the noise! In the morning, before sunrise, they go around beating drums to wake you up and tell you to eat something before the sun comes up. Then, at night at sunset, they set off one or two huge blasts, like M-80s or a cherry bomb sort of loud, telling you that it is OK to eat.&lt;br /&gt;The guys tell me that you are not supposed to eat, drink, smoke or do anything during the days of Ramadan, and that even includes looking at picutres of women! (I was showing someone a photo of Angelina Jolie from a magazine but he wouldn't look at it...)&lt;br /&gt;They take their religion very seriously here. We've had more talks, and I believe them when they tell me that they will not have any sex before marriage, and that includes masturbation! (Yes, I had to ask, but I was curious!) &lt;br /&gt;In honor of Ramadan, I did fast yesterday. OK, I had a little water, but nothing else all day, no biggie. They all thought it was very cool that I fasted with them.&lt;br /&gt;Then last night for dinner, I met up with a couple (she from Ireland, he from Holland), and we ended up drinking beers and having a "mixed grill" on the rooftop patio of a restaurant on the corniche (aka the boardwalk along the water front). It was the most English I had spoken without talking slow and distinct for awhile. Earlier in the day, I did take a swim in the Mediterreanean, but mostly just to say I had swam in the Med. The water was like bath water, and the beach was fairly dirty. I also had a chat, in Spanish, with a Tunisian guy who was putting varnish on these cool goat skin lamps. But he did admit to me that the actual lamps were made in Morocco and that he just put the final varnish on them. I've seen these lamps in NYC before, for over $20, and they're about $3 here. Tough to pack in my bag tho...&lt;br /&gt;I'm also surprised when the Tunisians use the "n-word" here. They clearly don't think of it as a bad word, altho I always do tell them that it is a very bad work in English. But they use it to describe the men that come from Ghana, Kenya, etc. They tell me that they are afraid of them, because they are so dark and so big.&lt;br /&gt;Today I heard a different sort of wail, and I was told that they were announcing that a man had died. Evidently, when a person dies they "announce" it so that everyone knows and the family can begin mourning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAU1bj2ajI/AAAAAAAAATA/DLoCCtNetDQ/s1600-h/P1000609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAU1bj2ajI/AAAAAAAAATA/DLoCCtNetDQ/s200/P1000609.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242212874423003698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I do love how my friend Ahmed uses the phrase "tak tak tak" here: sort of in the same way that we say "etc. etc." or "on and on." They often say: "I will work and make more money, tak tak tak," meaning that they will try to keep moving up.&lt;br /&gt;I hope this isn't coming off as too disjointed... When I have my laptop I can write more lucidly, but when I'm using the internet cafes I tend to just start writing and try to get it done quickly, tak tak tak."&lt;br /&gt;OK, so now I go to Tunis. I will get there tonight, and then tomorrow will be my final day in Tunisia before I head out to Cairo.&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-1328188917257446416?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/1328188917257446416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=1328188917257446416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1328188917257446416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1328188917257446416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/09/few-notes-from-tunisia.html' title='A few notes from Tunisia'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAU1bj2ajI/AAAAAAAAATA/DLoCCtNetDQ/s72-c/P1000609.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-6057033358049617788</id><published>2008-08-31T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T04:01:00.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To the beach beach beach</title><content type='html'>Tatouine was indeed a fascinating place. I especially loved the genuine friendliness of the people there, vs. the contrived "tourist lines" you get in some places. It almost seemed that the further south you got (i.e. the further from Tunis), the better it got. Guys would come up and ask if you needed help, or just to talk, and it took me awile to realize that they really didn't want anything, except to help or speak English. I had a nice chat with this kid about his college choices in Canada (I knew a little since I went to Carleton in Ottawa about 100 years ago...) But they never expected a tip; in fact, I think they would've been insulted if I had offered.&lt;br /&gt;But the heat down there DID start to feel a bit too much like Las Vegas for me... super hot and very dry. So I moved north.&lt;br /&gt;I took a louage (sometimes spelled lowage) from Tatouine to Gabes (2.5 hours), then another to Sfax (2 hours), then a third to El Jem. One kid sitting next to me was listening to music and I asked what it was -- and he said 50 Cent! (American rapper, for those who don't know, like I didn't...) Also, along the way they were selling gasoline from Libya, in plastic jugs. They say it's "good gas" and cheaper than what they pay (currently a little over a dollar per liter). Many food stalls along the way had slaughtered a sheep, and they were all hanging upside down draining the blood, probably getting ready to grill today (Sunday, the family day).&lt;br /&gt;El Jem is a classic Roman amphitheatre, built in the years around 200 BC. They say that the builders had already built the Roman Colosseum and learned their mistakes, so this one was nearly perfect. It's oval, and held around 30,000 people, and was also where a famous battle between the Berbers and the invaders happened (the Berbers lost...) Some has been restored, but mostly it's in amawing shape for its age. They were setting up for a concert that night, but it didn't start until after dark, which means I would miss any trqnsport to Mahdia, which is where I wanted to end up.&lt;br /&gt;So I get to Mahdia around 7 pm, and for the first time I couldn't find a hotel room. It's the last big summer weekend and most everything (at least in my budget) was sold out. But then I got talking with this kid -- Ahmed, aged 23 and a devout Muslim) who worked at the reception desk of one hotel, and he told me I could sleep on the roof! He took me up there, and it was nicely finished like a patio deck with padded benches, and clothes lines. But it was a bed, and only about $8 USD, including breakfast. I was glad to have it!&lt;br /&gt;Ahmed also told me where to eat dinner, at a seafood restaurant on the corniche, and he was spot on about that as well: excellent grilled fish! (I was a tad peckish, since it's not allowed to eat inside the louages, and we never stopped long enough to grab a sandwich -- sometimes spelled sandwitch, btw.) Afterward, Ahmed and I stayed up talking in the lobby until after midnight, and then I went up to sleep under the stars. (Oh how some people would laugh if they saw me sleeping on a roof of a small hotel in Tunisia!)&lt;br /&gt;I love Mahdia. It's not a huge mega resort like Sousse, Hammamat or Monastir. It has a far more laid back, lost in time quality to it, and yet a beach town right on the coast. People are very chill, no big pressure to buy or do anything. I read somewhere that one Roman general had a hard time getting his troops to get back on the ship when they layed anchor in Mahdia, and I can see why.&lt;br /&gt;I have two ideas tho: Someone should do a version of "Pimp My Ride" here in Tunisia. The basic rides are so classic, and worn, and it would be amazing to see what those guys would come up with... Oh, and I think I already said that George Lucas should sponsor a Star Wars convention here. But I spoke with an interesting guy from Italy (who works in textiles here and speaks 6 languages!), and he said you would have to prove the benefit to the government (increased tourism) and you'd need to find a majority Tunisian partner. OK, sounds like it's getting complicated now...&lt;br /&gt;Most of the hotels down here do not offer towels to guests. You can sometimes rent one for one dinar (75 cents), but sometimes not. And me, with just a daypack... and no towel.&lt;br /&gt;Lots of women have henna on their hands, but many also have it on their feet! I haven't been able to get a photo of that yet, but I will try! And I see more men smoking on water pipes here -- the real thing not those tourist things like in Vegas. Supposedly, there are hidden-away places where women-only can drink coffee, smoke water pipes and talk to each other, but so far I haven't spotted one!&lt;br /&gt;It's also just funny to rememeber where I am... by having nothing be exactly the way it is. By that, I mean people will tell you that something is "close" and it's miles away; or that it's new, but that means 300 years "new"; or that a bus leaves at 2 pm, but that could mean anything from 2:30 til 4 or even 5. Things all happen, but just in their own sweet time.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, the joy and the mysteries of travel!&lt;br /&gt;I think I will hang in Mahdia for another day, maybe even blow off Sousse. But then back to Tunis so that I can catch my flight to Cairo on Thursday, Sept 4.&lt;br /&gt;Love you, and thanks for checking in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-6057033358049617788?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/6057033358049617788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=6057033358049617788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/6057033358049617788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/6057033358049617788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/08/to-beach-beach-beach.html' title='To the beach beach beach'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-3124804428632354138</id><published>2008-08-29T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T10:38:06.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reporting from Southern Tunisia</title><content type='html'>It's been SO weird to be reading about Obama and the DNC while traversing the south of Tunisia.... But I think I've gotten the jist of it, and now all that he has to do is win in November!&lt;br /&gt;But where was I?&lt;br /&gt;I think I was heading to Matmata, to live in the caves. I did just that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAXxY-pLcI/AAAAAAAAATI/JpyO1pzQDtA/s1600-h/P1000487.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAXxY-pLcI/AAAAAAAAATI/JpyO1pzQDtA/s200/P1000487.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242216103545482690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are only 1,000 people in Matmata, so we aren't talking a huge metropolis. Its claim to fame is that the bar scene from the original Star Wars (Le Guerre des Etoiles) was filmed there. It's sort of tacky, in that the hotel has put up Star Wars sheets on the walls, and there are some books around with paper clippings. Of course, my US-marketing mind gets going, thinking about how it could become like Roswell, NM there, with regular conventions and exhibitions. As it is, I never spoke to one person there who had even SEEN the movie, so they must sort of wonder what the fuss is all about.&lt;br /&gt;For centuries, the native peoples of Southern Tunisia have lived in caves. They stay cooler during the brutal summer heat, and warmer in the cold desert winters. I stayed in one that tried to retain some of the original "charm," and they succeeded somewhat. Originally, a deep crater was dug down approximately 40 feet, and then rooms were dug into the ground at the lower level. Make sense? Does this picture help? &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAZ7mWysHI/AAAAAAAAATQ/ir4jauF5f1A/s1600-h/P1000512.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAZ7mWysHI/AAAAAAAAATQ/ir4jauF5f1A/s200/P1000512.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242218477958377586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a sweet "museum" in town, run by an enterprising woman who saw the need and turned her home into a venue that shows how people used to actually use the cave/troglodyte homes. Each home had a salon/living room, a bedroom or two, a store room for food and grains, and even an indoor bathroom. Mind you, all of the signs are in French, and the woman who owns it was there to answer questions but none of that helped me much -- altho I do have to admit that I'm doing a BIT better with my French...&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of my stay there, other than sleeping in a cave for two whole nights, was meeting a guy named Ali who teaches physics at the local school. He's 29 and lives with his mom, which isn't unusual here. He also tends to their goat flock, and one night I walked up the hill with him as he watched his "kids." It so so peaceful and quiet up there, not that Matmata has much noise about it anyway. In his broken English and my bad French, we managed to talk for two hours about everything: Bush, of course (they really dislike him...), religion, matrimony, the future and on and on. The wisdom of a goat herder can never be discounted -- he sees life in such simple yet logical terms. He also showed me the plants that camels prefer, and told me that cats are kept because they kill the scorpions. &lt;br /&gt;Later that night there was a wedding in town (on a Wednesday, but they have to get them in before Ramadan begins next week). Trucks of young people drove up and down the one main street of Matmata, yelling and singing like it was Nebraska.&lt;br /&gt;There aren't too many other "backpackers" around, but I did meet up with a few. Some from Japan, others from the UK. But it was nice to speak "plain ol'" English, which I haven't done really since I got here. It really does amaze me how quickly people bring up George Bush, and never in a good way. I do think the rest of the world will really wonder what's up with America if Obama doesn't win.&lt;br /&gt;Masses of tour buses come to Matmata for the day, but then leave by sunset and the town returns to normal. I had a great dinner the last night of chicken tagine, with a typical Tunisian salad of cucumbers, tomatoes and........ canned tuna fish! They find more things to put tuna into, including omelettes, sandwiches (often spelt sandwitches here) and pizzas.&lt;br /&gt;I found a good internet place, but they still won't let me hook up my camera so I can't upload pix... but asap, I promise!&lt;br /&gt;Today (Friday Aug 29) we took the bus back to Gabes, and then found a louges (a minivan that goes to a certain city after all the seats are filled -- faster and as cheap as the bus and a better way to meet the locals) to Tatouine.&lt;br /&gt;Tatouine could really be a Star Wars mecca as well, if it wasn't so hot and so far from anything. It's next to the Sahara, about eight hours south of Tunis BUT George Lucas did use the name as the place where Luke Skywalker lived, so it's famous for that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAcjjIqppI/AAAAAAAAATY/1Rlx7y3iBpE/s1600-h/P1000519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAcjjIqppI/AAAAAAAAATY/1Rlx7y3iBpE/s200/P1000519.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242221363311847058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a ride: camels sitting by the side of the road, men sleeping by the side of the road during the hot part of the day, horse-drawn carts pulling anything and everything...&lt;br /&gt;We (two Japanese tourists and myself) rented a taxi and driver for the late afternoon and went to see more of the Star Wars sites... the four story mud homes that were used in the movie. Not a bit of cheese to the place, and if you didn't know you would never have noticed. The buildings were built centuries ago to hold grain, and later people moved into them. Believe me, a picture will tell a thousand words...&lt;br /&gt;I love just hanging out, sipping my "the a la menthe" (mint tea with sugar) and people watching... as the Arabic mucis wafts through every speaker. (OMG, is that the first time I've used waft this year??) Even in small cafes in small towns the cafe waiters (always male) will wear a black or striped waiters jacket, like the type you used to see in the 50s.&lt;br /&gt;The guys in Tatouine have a very "hip" factor about them, as tho they don't want to appear backward in any way. They wear Nikes and t-shirts with English words on them, and wear their hair all slicked back. The older guys will all sit and play dominos or backgammon, but they ALL drink espresso coffee. It's also cool to see such comraderie, as they walk arm in arm or rub each others shoulders (in a very non-sexual way of course; it's just that women are out of bounds until married!)&lt;br /&gt;Typing on the French keyboards takes me twice as long; this has taken me an hour to write, so I will sign off and go crash.&lt;br /&gt;I think tomorrow I will head north, toward the coast, and start making my way back to Tunis. I then have a flight to Cairo on Sept 4.&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU for reading this, whoever you may be!! Email with any questions!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-3124804428632354138?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/3124804428632354138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=3124804428632354138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/3124804428632354138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/3124804428632354138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/08/reporting-from-southern-tunisia.html' title='Reporting from Southern Tunisia'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SMAXxY-pLcI/AAAAAAAAATI/JpyO1pzQDtA/s72-c/P1000487.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-3171288740584645120</id><published>2008-08-25T10:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T04:00:14.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tunis continued......</title><content type='html'>I am going to be writing quickly, because I'm at an internet place that isn't always reliable and I hate writing for 20 minutes and then find out I've lost everything... but let's try!&lt;br /&gt;Also, this is a French keyboard so the letter are in different places, so excuse any obvious typos.&lt;br /&gt;Now, where were we? Ahhh, the hammam. That's a Turkish bath house, with zero sexual connotations. In fact, the men are SO modest that they (literally) shower with their underear on! I was turned away at first because I forgot to bring a towel, that's a no-no. (You should also bring soap, shampoo and a scrubbing mitt, but they will sell you those....) The scenario is that you look for the red and green stripes outside; some are men only, some are women only and some share days or times. There are lounging areas with TVs in front, but then you go back to the steam room to start the process. After awhile, one of the masseurs comes to get you. I never figured out that process or decision exactly, but I didn't wait too long.&lt;br /&gt;The guy lays you down on a marble slab, and starts to scrub you with this glove that feels like wire bristles. Front and back, and then some massage and work-over, like bending your legs above your head and stuff like that... Then you shower, again WITH your underwear still on. Everyone took VERY long showers, and I wonder what will happen if the clean water supplies ever dry up in Arabia. Then you comb out, and pay up. Entrance was 4 dinar; around $3. I didn't know what to pay the masseur, but I gave him the equivalent of $4 and he seemed very happy. In other words, I over-paid. Chalk on up for experience.&lt;br /&gt;The hamman was right in the medina, which is the oldest part of Tunis, going back to the 8th century!! It was originally the only thing here; a walled city with commerce and soldiers to try and keep the Romans at bay. There are perhaps a dowen mosques, and various "souks," which are the specific markets for shoes, brass, leather, clothes, etc. Of course, I have pix of it but I can't find a way to post 'em. (If anyone wants to come over and be my tech guru, I'll pay your way!!)&lt;br /&gt;The entire time you walk in the medina, you are asked to "come in, my friend" and "only for looking." Since I'm not buying, I wasn't of much interest to them. But what a wonderland of STUFF from books to fez hats, to birds and art works. (By the way, they all sell sunglasses; but I would ay MAYBE 10 percent of the locals wear them...)&lt;br /&gt;Hints: Buy something as soon as you can, because they hate seeing anyone empty-handed. Be persistant and don't fear just walking away. And go into the shops with the old guys, because they apply the least pressure, to the point of not caring. And I felt good when I got hit up on the oldest scam in the medina; "come see a special Berber show...." and then they drag you to another shop afterward. They say even Paul Theroux fell for THAT one!&lt;br /&gt;And then the Bardo. In many ways, it's the reason I came to Tunisia, and it didn't disappoint. The world-renowned museum has some of the best preserved and most extensive mosaics to be found anywhere outside of Rome. It shows the extent of their wealth and power, as well as their artistry and thoroughness. Not much wasn't put into a mosaic, from what they ate, to sex, to the games they played. Most of it is pre-Christian, going back to the 3rd century BC. I spent the whole afternoon there, and yet felt satisfied... &lt;br /&gt;There were hoards of tour buses, I'd easily guess 40 in the parking lot (yes, on a Saturday...). They all paid handsomely for the tour, but I was a good traveler and took public transportation (for about 30 cents) and paid $6 to get in, and then just horned in on the tour guides (many in Spanish, but none in English). I got my fill of Poseiden, Bacchus and Eros, all of whom were natural favorite subjects.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was a great chill day. Not that it was chilly, but rather it was so relaxed. It's the day they clean the streets, and restock the bottled waters. I just walked, and found this great kid named Oussama who wanted to practice his English, and we chatted for hours. That night there was a free concert on the main street, where they closed what amounts to Fifth Avenue off. It was nice; cuz there are very few drunks (since most Muslims don't drink, which means no yelling and fighting...)&lt;br /&gt;BTZ, the men all have great haircuts, cuz there are haircut shops everywhere and they take obvious pride in it. &lt;br /&gt;Finally, today (Monday) I took the local train (for $2 round trip) to Carthage, with another new friend, Rami. He didn' know where he was going, and he mostly only speaks French, but we still had a great day. The ruins of Carthage are ancient, very dilapidated and spread out over two+ kilometers. There's the "topher," where they think children were once offered as sacrifice to the gods; and the museum, which pales to the Bardo. But we also got to see the President's home and nearby mosque (HUGE), and then finished the afternoon at a seaside restaurant having fresh grilled fish that was excellent.&lt;br /&gt;A few quickies: &lt;br /&gt;Eggs are never refrigerated, always just out.&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me that many of the women in Tunisia who wear full face scarves and robes are often doing it as a silent protest against the government, because they think the government is too liberal here.&lt;br /&gt;It's funny to hear "Jingle Bells" as the ring tone on peoples' cellphones... And I did see my first Santa Claus -- a paper cut-out used as decoration in a story window, in August. &lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much brought us up to date. I leave in the morning for Gabes, and then down to Matmata, where the troglodyte cave/hotels are, near where they filmed the original "Star Wars." Somehow it seems fun to be staying in a cave during the Democratic National Convention, taking place in my hometown of Denver, Colorado. Go Obama!!!&lt;br /&gt;Still, it's good to be here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-3171288740584645120?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/3171288740584645120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=3171288740584645120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/3171288740584645120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/3171288740584645120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/08/tunis-continued.html' title='Tunis continued......'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-2456872385029719491</id><published>2008-08-23T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T07:11:09.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Tunis, anyone?</title><content type='html'>I just wanted to post a quick update........&lt;br /&gt;I'm fine, thanks for asking. The ferry finally arrived at around 9 pm and it took at least an hour to get thru customs and get a taxi into town. It wasn't lost in translation that everyone found it fairly amusing that we had our "fire drill" about 2 hours before ze docked... There was laughter in about six languages.&lt;br /&gt;So...... Tunis, my Tunis.&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I alwqys do is find my internet place, which turns out to be just down the street from my hotel -- the Hotel Salaambo.&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, the first emails I got were telling me that my dear friend Kathryn Skatula passed away on Aug. 20 from her battle with ALS (Lou Gerhig's diseqse). She and I have been great friends for 35+ years... I lived with her the whole time I lived in LA in the 1980s and we have many, many friends in common. I went to see her in March before I left, and we both knew that would likely be the last time. Still, it's never easy and there's a big part of me that wishes I could be there with everyone. Her favorite color was blue, and luckily there is plenty of Tunisian blue for me to look at...... I will remember her always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do love that family seems to be so big in Tunisia. Dad's play with their kids and take care of them. It's also more common to see men working at places like the markets and many stores. Even though Tunisia is one of the most liberal countries inthe Arab world, it's still male-centric. That said, you can find women dressed in everything from full Muslim robes down to strapless dresses and jeans... and no one seems to care.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I miscalculated how much French I would need here. Yes, I can get by, but it would're really helped if I had watched more Truffaut films........ Everyone speaks French and Arabic, but not as many speak English as I (naively) thought. Cèst bonne.&lt;br /&gt;I had a haircut here, which wasn't a big deal except the guy didn't want to cut it as short as I wanted and I had to keep asking for more off. He cut my hair "dry" and then washed it after. It was also sort of sensual how he took his time cleaning my ears... Eek, do I have an ear fetish??&lt;br /&gt;The "stylist" unspooled a length of black thread and then pressed it down onto some other guys' cheeks. Of course, I wanted to try that but my guy wouldn't do it! No matter how hard I tried. He scrunched his nose and said alot in French, but clearly that wasn't pour moi. They ALL smoked in there so I felt as tho I had smoked an entire pack by the time I left.&lt;br /&gt;One dinar is worth around 80 cents US, and everything seems to cost one dinar. For a coffee, a bottle of water, the entrance to a museum...... My hotel is 26 dinars, or around $éé USD, and that includes a/c, a TV and shower with a toilet down the hall. Perfect for me!&lt;br /&gt;Not many Americans or even English speakers, at least not that I've heard. Again, I sort of like that. But they love to play the guessing game of "where you from?" It usually starts with German, and then goes to Italian (I wish) or maybe Holland, and then American. Already I've gotten the rude thing where guys come up to you and want to "be your friend" which then means you go to a cafe and buy them coffee or food. Two guys were SO friendly until I said no and walked away, and then said some not nice things at me.... Goes with the territory.&lt;br /&gt;This is a "look dozn" city, meaning that the streets are so uneven and/or broken that you always trip. Not the locals, of course... how do they do it? I think it also comes down to three categories: those where all the lights work; those where half the lights work; and those where they don't even have lights! That's the world in a nutshell.&lt;br /&gt;I will try and post pix but so far this internet place said it was "not possible" for me to bring in my laptop and connect up. But I'll keep trying.&lt;br /&gt;Next up: my first hamman (a Turkish men's bath house), the medina and The Bardo!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-2456872385029719491?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/2456872385029719491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=2456872385029719491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2456872385029719491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2456872385029719491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/08/little-tunis-anyone.html' title='A Little Tunis, anyone?'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-1732422352415798056</id><published>2008-08-20T04:23:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T04:42:40.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere in the middle of the Mediterranean</title><content type='html'>I’m sorry, forgive my indulgence, but I think this is so cool….. (If you’re under 30, you’ll probably not be too impressed by this……) I’m on the ferry to Tunisia, and it has wifi. I guess it’s not THAT amazing, but it’s still pretty cool. It costs a bit, about $15 for two hours, but worth every penny. (Mind you, these pix were taken around noon on Wed. Aug. 20, so they’re “fresh!”)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKwAAKwWZFI/AAAAAAAAASo/yVGzyljP9dg/s1600-h/P1000306.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKwAAKwWZFI/AAAAAAAAASo/yVGzyljP9dg/s200/P1000306.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236560469612192850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick update: I only had about half a day in Genoa, which gave me just about enough time to cruise through the old part of the city, which dates back to the 11th century mind you. It’s that typical mix of styles, with Baroque on top of Medieval. It’s also the usual mix of ancient shops next door to H&amp;M and Zara, with the odd McDonald’s thrown in as well. Gulp.&lt;br /&gt;What do we love most about Genoa? The fact that it was once the home to both Marco Polo AND Christopher Columbus. It’s the home of great departures…&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKwBbYxigwI/AAAAAAAAASw/BkxO-CrSiDA/s1600-h/P1000295.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKwBbYxigwI/AAAAAAAAASw/BkxO-CrSiDA/s200/P1000295.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236562036743373570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a putz and bagged on the Aquarium. Even though it’s one of the biggest in the world, the lines were also some of the longest in the world….. and I didn’t really want to spend 1.5 hours waiting, when I only had 5 hours total. I did, however, grab some fresh calamari and shrimp from a little shop near the waterfront, in honor of the sea! &lt;br /&gt;Normally I don’t push it this hard, but I had a ferry to catch! They told us to arrive by 5 pm, and our departure on the GNV Splendid was supposed to be 8 pm. That’s about when the return ferry pulled in from Tunis, and then it took literally 2.5 hours to unload the 1,000 or so cars and trucks. We finally pulled away from the docks at around 11:20 pm. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;I paid about $265, which was the cheapest ticket available. For a 20 hour trip, that works out to be, what, $13 per hour?? (Oh, and the waiting lounges had squat toilets! A bit unexpected, since I haven’t seen them in a few years… since Brasil?) &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKwCt-8SUlI/AAAAAAAAAS4/UdKo9cEWzxc/s1600-h/P1000300.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKwCt-8SUlI/AAAAAAAAAS4/UdKo9cEWzxc/s200/P1000300.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236563455738270290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For $265, you get a fairly comfortable Pullman seat in a room on the 9th level (the Sky deck…) that holds about 50 people. We were maybe half full, which means that many people took four seats and stretched out to sleep immediately. I didn’t want to appear American-hoggish, so I only took two seats, for that curled up slumber.&lt;br /&gt;The Splendid is a mini-cruise ship. It has a pool (which isn’t open), a casino (ditto), a piano bar (without a pianist) and a restaurant, which is open for meals supposedly.(Addendum: It does open, and serves mostly pasta and fish.) I sound like I’m bitching, and I’m not because I really didn’t expect a thing. There’s a comfortable lounge that shows nonstop Olympic coverage, so I’m happy, although no one much seems to take notice. (Wait! There was a bit of an uptick with the male passengers once the women’s synchronized swimming started…)&lt;br /&gt;OK, a bit more about the night last night. Evidently, Muslims CAN drink, and there were a good number of fairly drunk gents last night. They sang, talked and argued for hours. Culturally, I didn’t want to be the complaining American, so I just tried to ignore it. But what I found interesting was that NO ONE said anything to them! (Wouldn’t you think that at least someone would yell “shut up” or something? Nope. But a few did just get up and leave, to go sleep who-knows-where.) And, as you can imagine, a room full of 25 guys was quite “ripe,” as they say. (No women, of course, except for one German hippie lady…) Oh, and one guy brought his cat in a cage, which howled all night as well.&lt;br /&gt;OK, it was a bit hellish. I wonder why no one wants to travel with me! LOL.&lt;br /&gt;I do believe that I’m the only gringo on board. I didn’t detect any other English-speakers in the waiting rooms, nor have I heard a bit of English since I got onboard. It’s sorta nice, actually. I do love not knowing what anyone is saying – sort of takes the edge off of worrying about gossip and things like current events or who has won the most Olympic gold.&lt;br /&gt;Now it’s settling into the humdrum of an ocean voyage. By my reckoning, I think we only have about six more hours until we arrive in Tunis.&lt;br /&gt;Signing off, from the deck of “Splendid.” (Sorry there aren't most pix, but each one took 4-5 minutes to upload. No joke! At these prices, I couldn't wait any longer!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-1732422352415798056?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/1732422352415798056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=1732422352415798056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1732422352415798056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1732422352415798056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/08/somewhere-in-middle-of-mediterranean.html' title='Somewhere in the middle of the Mediterranean'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKwAAKwWZFI/AAAAAAAAASo/yVGzyljP9dg/s72-c/P1000306.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-2865601514426434630</id><published>2008-08-18T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T00:11:03.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burp!</title><content type='html'>Not that this is going to come as a surprise, but when I think back on my ever so short time in France, all I can think of is the food….. the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Aug. 12, I took the Eurostar from London to Paris, and then jumped in a taxi over to Gare du Lyon to get the train south to Dijon, where my friend Cliff Young picked me up. He and his wife, Sherry, bought a home 10 years ago in the hamlet of Poil, about 5 km outside of Beaune, the heart of Burgundy. I helped write and edit the website for the house, and have kept a keen interest in all things in the “Domaine Montagny” world, as its called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpwAXq3LnI/AAAAAAAAASI/CJplQbv7Keg/s1600-h/P1000274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpwAXq3LnI/AAAAAAAAASI/CJplQbv7Keg/s200/P1000274.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236120668427726450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They’ve really increased the gardens, and there’s a bit of everything, including berries, apples, peaches, tomatoes, potatoes, radishes, etc. etc. Cliff also loves to play in the kitchen, making red currant reductions or raspberry jam. We’d often go to into Beaune to have coffee in the morning, as well as check out the market on Wednesday and Saturday (the bigger, by far, is on Saturday). Taking my lead from Cliff, it’s easy to fall under the spell of Burgundy, the home of Romanee Conti, Meursault, Pommard, Le Montrachet, Nuits St. George and on and on. Plus, it’s all so steeped in history, with many homes and towers dating to the 13th century.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I had a nice escargot pizza… Another night we went to their favorite local spot and had roast duck breast… and another day we tucked into a major pot of fondue, for lunch! But the highlight had to be our amazing 3.5 hour lunch at Le Charlemagne, a newish one-star Michelin restaurant overlooking the vineyards Pommard, and surprisingly it’s e a fusion of French and Japanese. Think escargot ravioli, cod with caviar, filet with edamame, amazing cheeses and three (count ‘em) dessert courses. We washed it all down with 2.5 bottles of wine as well including a premier cru Vose Romanee. Cliff and I do love to tuck into those kind of meals, where we analyze the entire experience from décor to service to food. I didn’t realize that you must get 20 points to become a Michelin three-star, and to get a two-star you must get 19 points. In other words, getting that final 20th point is the hardest thing a restaurant can do. (Le Charlemagne is probably in the 13-14 point range at the moment. Great, but still needing work. But don’t kid yourself, ANY one-star Michelin is still worth the experience!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpwf6JId6I/AAAAAAAAASQ/-i3VKSr2BUU/s1600-h/P1000263.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpwf6JId6I/AAAAAAAAASQ/-i3VKSr2BUU/s200/P1000263.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236121210257438626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the last time I was here, in 2003, there’s been an invasion of “big box” grocery stores, and there are now four of them in Beaune where there were zero just a few years ago. The locals, naturally, like the cheap prices on staples like toilet paper and bottled water, but going to the markets and having them slice off one perfect fresh ham steak is still the only way to go when in Burgundy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also gained some rudimentary knowledge of “terroir,” ” (pronounced tehr-wah) the impossible-to-define concept of growing grapes naturally, not adding anything to the soil and letting nature take her course. Each parcel of grape-growing land can produce something completely different, even from a plot directly across the street – and it all has to do with “terroir.” There are entire books written about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpxDZ2HJXI/AAAAAAAAASY/IJx7IG2Ixvk/s1600-h/P1000272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpxDZ2HJXI/AAAAAAAAASY/IJx7IG2Ixvk/s200/P1000272.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236121820063016306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cliff, bless his heart, drove me down to the train station this morning (Mon. Aug. 18), and I took a 12-hour ride to Genoa, Italy. And what an amazing train ride throughout France!! I hadn’t really thought about it, but we passed through most of French history: Aix-en-Provence, Avignon, Marseilles, Monte Carlo, Cannes and Antibes…… I could’ve stopped at any one point along the way and spent a week! In the south, it was so awesome how the train hugged the coast the whole way, so we could watch the yachts and even check out the swim suits! But I wanted to get to Genoa so that I can catch the ferry to Tunis, the capital of Tunisia. (I did love the little girl, about 4 years old, who kept asking her mommy “porquoi?” which is “why?” in French. Why should that stage in growing up be any different here? And what about all those Japanese girl travelers who wear skin tight silk dresses with high heels, but drag around these enormous bags that they can’t even lift?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ferry leaves tomorrow evening, and takes 20 hours, which means I’ll arrive in Tunis on Wed. Aug. 20. Should be nice and HOT, and I’m very much looking forward to it. I’ve already booked my hotel: called Hotel Salaambo. (Any of my friends from the old college days might remember that I once in a play called  “Ondine” where I played the part of a swishy director who was doing a show called (you guessed it) Salaambo! I thought it might be good luck to stay there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m thinking that I’ll be in Tunisia for about two weeks, then probably 3-4 weeks in Egypt, a week or so in Jordan and then another few weeks in Israel. So the real “juice” of the trip is happening…… and I couldn’t be happier! But will they be watching the closing ceremonies of the Olympics in Tunis?? Let’s hope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpx4EEED1I/AAAAAAAAASg/T0lE16DPSHQ/s1600-h/P1000270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpx4EEED1I/AAAAAAAAASg/T0lE16DPSHQ/s320/P1000270.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236122724749021010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-2865601514426434630?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/2865601514426434630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=2865601514426434630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2865601514426434630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2865601514426434630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/08/burp.html' title='Burp!'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKpwAXq3LnI/AAAAAAAAASI/CJplQbv7Keg/s72-c/P1000274.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-387508068771750807</id><published>2008-08-11T04:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T05:04:08.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And he's off!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKApd3St3PI/AAAAAAAAAR4/eDcWG81AWS4/s1600-h/P1000253.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKApd3St3PI/AAAAAAAAAR4/eDcWG81AWS4/s320/P1000253.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233228360039914738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it seems ridiculous that I’ve stayed in England for so long….  My gawd, it’s been over two months, but who’s counting?&lt;br /&gt;Mostly, just to set the record straight, I have no been performing at the Fringe, nor have I merely been eating Marmite on toast and sipping tea. Rather, I’ve been trying to help my friend Sally sort out her affairs as she is starting to make a move back to the States after living in England for over 20 years. (That’s a lot of sorting!)&lt;br /&gt;What’s so funny about England is that once the weather almost starts to get nice, and they have a proper summer with fairly decent blue skies and warm weather – they all head out to foreign countries on vacations and miss the best part of the year! Indeed, because of the current economics, many are staying closer to home and taking “beach holidays,” but it still strikes me as “uniquely British.”&lt;br /&gt;The other thing you start to notice are the skin colors: The Brits at this time of the year tend to be one of two skin tones…. Orange or pink. Orange from having a fake tan put on, or pink from having a bit of the sun finally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKAoZhNflsI/AAAAAAAAARo/z7kV6XD0xnI/s1600-h/P1000246.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKAoZhNflsI/AAAAAAAAARo/z7kV6XD0xnI/s320/P1000246.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233227185881323202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a great day with my (one and only true) nephew, Grady. He was over here with a group doing a grand tour of Europe, and we were able to spend a day in London together. He’s a high school English teacher near Philadelphia, and a very cool kid at that. We did a mad dash through three, count ‘em, British museums, all in one afternoon: the National Gallery, the National Portrait Gallery and the British Museum. He loved that the Rosetta stone was just “there,” and seeing Van Gogh’s up close for the first time is also exhilarating. Then we chilled in Russell Square over some beers before having an excellent Italian dinner – the best meal he’d had in England, which isn’t saying much considering it was only his second day here. (I did assure him that it probably would be the best, however.)&lt;br /&gt;I did, of course, see “Dark Knight,” and thought it was fascinating if not a bit long. I don’t know how the movie is being marketed in the States, but it’s distressing what they’re doing over here. There’s a Burger King commercial that seems to play constantly where this kid on a bus refuses to give up his seat to an old lady with shopping bags. He laments his bad manners, but the tag line is something like “give in to your dark side,” and they’re trying to sell some horrible hamburger with hot sauce and spicy cheese. What is the purpose, in this day and age, with telling our youth that it’s good or fun to be an asshole. No wonder…… oh whoops, I’m sounding like an old man.&lt;br /&gt;Comedians here love to take sucker punches at Obama and McCain. Partly, it surprises me that they know (and care) so much about US politics. (Quick, tell me a Gordon Brown or David Cameron joke!) They often refer to Obama as “the black man” and they find it hilarious that McCain can’t raise his arms up past his shoulders, due to military injuries. (Let’s just agree that British and American humor tends to be somewhat different. Brits think they’re quite witty and they see American humor as inane and immature.)&lt;br /&gt;Two “big” shows coming up on BBC are “Convert Me” where some guy is going to try and convert people to Christianity in three weeks – no joke. The other is “Maestro,” which is a reality talent show where people compete to be the best orchestra conductor.&lt;br /&gt;There was also a disgusting show that exposed the sandwich-making industry in the UK. They’re mad for their sammies and you can purchase them almost anywhere. The worst, perhaps not surprisingly, were the ones from Subway. (The meatball marinara had the same amount of sodium as something like 18 bags of potato chips.) They also had an undercover photographer taking movies of the deplorable sanitary conditions at one sandwich kitchen. Let’s just say I haven’t been eating a lot of sandwiches lately.&lt;br /&gt;It does seem that, between the UK and the EU, there are lots more rules here… They both loves their safety and health ordinances, sometimes to the point of ridiculous. An ambulance driver was ticketed for leaving his ambulance in a no parking zone, while he was inside a store saving some guys life. The kicker was that they wouldn’t back off and tear up the ticket. I could go on and on…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKAo4hnJElI/AAAAAAAAARw/SacX4SbXkcA/s1600-h/P1000248.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKAo4hnJElI/AAAAAAAAARw/SacX4SbXkcA/s200/P1000248.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233227718564844114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Michael Aisner was in London, after having gone to Russia to follow his passion: eclipse chasing. He’s seen eight full eclipses already, and has his ninth planned. It’s quite an art, knowing where to be for maximum darkness, plus all the planning that goes into it, etc. We had a quick breakfast with his friend Tom Milsom, a soon-to-be famous musician and artist from Surrey.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really going to miss hanging out in London with my pal Bill Stafford. He and I have known each other for years (he and I both worked at the Rocky Mountain News at one point), and he's now living in London working for Visa credit cards -- a great gig where he travels to Russia, Dubai and South Africa! We've gone on day trips and explored some of London, and it's sad to have to say goodbye to him.... but that's the way of the vagabond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKAqdWk0vhI/AAAAAAAAASA/JooW4rHjMxE/s1600-h/P1000255.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKAqdWk0vhI/AAAAAAAAASA/JooW4rHjMxE/s200/P1000255.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233229450769120786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I don’t know if it’s the same in the States, but McDonald’s has gone “Olympic mad” over here with (gulp) an Oriental Burger and even egg rolls on the menu. (Isn’t Oriental non-pc these days??)&lt;br /&gt;Alas, it seems as though the Olympics become nothing more than “metal counting,” and the papers here give daily reports on who’s got the most gold, silver and bronze.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll have to keep up with the Olympics and everything else online,  however, because yes I’m finally leaving England! I’m taking the Eurostar tomorrow (Tuesday Aug 12) to Paris, and then taking the train down to Dijon where my friend Cliff Young will pick me up. I’ll spend a few days with he and his wife Sherry at their beautiful home in the heart of Burgundy, and then I’m looking to make my way to (probably) Genoa, Italy to grab a ferry to Tunisia. I’ve gone up and down, and had many thoughts about where I was headed next, but I basically came back to the original plan, and I’m focusing on going to places I’ve never been. To wit, I’m hoping to get to Tunisia, Egypt, Jordan and Israel, all in the next six to eight weeks…….. Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;I have some ideas about what I’ll do after that, but I need to light a few more candles and dream a little more before I say anything.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for listening, and keep those cards and emails coming in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-387508068771750807?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/387508068771750807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=387508068771750807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/387508068771750807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/387508068771750807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-hes-off.html' title='And he&apos;s off!'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SKApd3St3PI/AAAAAAAAAR4/eDcWG81AWS4/s72-c/P1000253.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-2967001295294399750</id><published>2008-07-29T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:05:04.379-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"What do you wanna do?"</title><content type='html'>Or, "what kind of job would make you happy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how many times I’ve either asked myself those questions, or been asked it? Let’s just say… a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve also been extremely lucky to have many opportunities with my various “careers” thus far. Restaurateur, nightclub owner, radio talk show host, writer, editor, teacher, jello-maker and lemonade salesman. (There’s a list of about 40 more on my website, in case you’re interested.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, just for fun, I thought I might just jot down a few of the things I’d still like to do with my life… and maybe it would shed some light on why I find these gaps between jobs so angst-inducing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d still like to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Work for FEMA&lt;br /&gt;• Be a gap year consultant&lt;br /&gt;• Sell my “Travel 101” book about how to travel fearlessly, maybe teach a class in it&lt;br /&gt;• Consult on a “new-age” bowling center&lt;br /&gt;• Finish my post-2012 apocalypse screenplay, a theatrical scenario&lt;br /&gt;• Teach English as a Foreign Language somewhere like Turkey, Brazil or Laos&lt;br /&gt;• Write a screenplay about a fascinating true story of Abe Lincoln and the slaves&lt;br /&gt;• Start a retirement home for gays&lt;br /&gt;• Be a self-employed project manager, doing one-off projects (i.e. finish and move on)&lt;br /&gt;• Talent scout around the world for Cirque du Soleil&lt;br /&gt;• Work for the New American Musical Theatre Festival in NYC&lt;br /&gt;• Become a restaurant “tune-up” consultant using my 182 point inspection&lt;br /&gt;• Run a piano bar in either NYC, Dublin or Cape Town&lt;br /&gt;• Start a company where you don’t offer advice, only listen, called “Ears To You”&lt;br /&gt;• Work for UNESCO, UN or USO&lt;br /&gt;• Be a personal assistant to Kevin Spacey, Stephen Sondheim or Chris Rock&lt;br /&gt;• Produce a TV show called “Exaltation” – about all the moments of triumph in history&lt;br /&gt;• Open a soup and pie shop (two foods you’re always in the mood for)&lt;br /&gt;• Write a series of travel stories called “First Impressions”&lt;br /&gt;• Produce a TV show about singing divas from around the world (every city has one)&lt;br /&gt;• Start a website and magazine all about high school musicals around the country&lt;br /&gt;• Work on “The World” – the famous seafaring condo&lt;br /&gt;• Start “Men In Kilts,” a window washing company&lt;br /&gt;• Write a screenplay about these Mexican dishwashers in a Greek  restaurant… who decide to go to Greece&lt;br /&gt;• Produce a show called “Naked Straight Guys” (with Ronnie Larsen)&lt;br /&gt;• Open “Santa Café,” a coffee/wine bar featuring my Santa Claus collection&lt;br /&gt;• Write a comic book aimed at helping teens choose the right career path&lt;br /&gt;• Start “Galapakid,” a company that takes kids on trips to the Galapagos Islands&lt;br /&gt;• Help the Physically Handicapped Actors League expand to other cities &lt;br /&gt;• Be a travel companion to a very rich person&lt;br /&gt;• Write a screenplay about a group of survivalists who live on a freighter ship&lt;br /&gt;• Develop my idea for marbles&lt;br /&gt;• Produce a reality show called “America’s Funniest Flight Attendant”&lt;br /&gt;• Direct my version of “My Fair Lady”&lt;br /&gt;• Help produce a New Worlds Fair, to give hope to kids like the ones did in ’39 and ‘64&lt;br /&gt;• Start ENVI, an environmental theater festival&lt;br /&gt;• Produce a TV series about people who are ex-pats from the United States&lt;br /&gt;• Open a restaurant that only prepares recipes from the previous months food magazines&lt;br /&gt;• Write a book about famous travelers throughout history&lt;br /&gt;• Research the 18th century French Prophets &lt;br /&gt;• Produce a “star search” type TV series, but feature actors instead of dancers or singers&lt;br /&gt;• Write a musical based on St. Francis of Assisi and his love, Claire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you can see why I get confused about what to do next. For me, ideas are the easy part -- it’s knowing what to do next that’s hard. &lt;br /&gt;If you’d like to help with me on any of them, or if you have an idea as to how to make any of them happen, please feel free to write me (thom@thomwise.com). But if you steal ‘em, please pay me. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Thom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SI9kRC7RpkI/AAAAAAAAARE/6zXU9U9LxJs/s1600-h/Photo+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:left;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SI9kRC7RpkI/AAAAAAAAARE/6zXU9U9LxJs/s200/Photo+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228507936406480450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-2967001295294399750?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/2967001295294399750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=2967001295294399750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2967001295294399750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2967001295294399750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-do-you-wanna-do.html' title='&quot;What do you wanna do?&quot;'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SI9kRC7RpkI/AAAAAAAAARE/6zXU9U9LxJs/s72-c/Photo+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-7942809384121191280</id><published>2008-07-24T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:05:05.194-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yup, STILL in England!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIigPkMrRQI/AAAAAAAAAQk/a7E0ocw27zM/s1600-h/P1000171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIigPkMrRQI/AAAAAAAAAQk/a7E0ocw27zM/s320/P1000171.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226603556838786306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, this is getting ridiculous. But there's always something going on it seems.....&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend was the great send off to Ed and his chums as they departed on the fifth annual "Mongol Rally." That's a very British thing where 230+ teams take off from Hyde Park on their way to..... Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia! (As you might remember, the site of some of more interesting travels in 2003...). &lt;br /&gt;The top photo shows a glimmer of the "eccentrics" who took part in this very typically Brit adventure. There were three guys in a bathtub, next to a small Mini-Cooper with a red telephone booth on top of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIigQPDVMoI/AAAAAAAAAQs/IYuZztzA_wI/s1600-h/P1000218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIigQPDVMoI/AAAAAAAAAQs/IYuZztzA_wI/s320/P1000218.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226603568342315650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom photo is Ed, Charles and Max with the Mongolian ambassador to the UK, who came for the send off. &lt;br /&gt;It was quite a festive occasion, with all the families there taking pictures of their boys (and a few girls)  heading off on their three week sojurn — at least they all HOPE to make it to UB in about thee weeks. It's a rally, however, not a race, so everyone takes their own calculated route. The boys are going via "the Stans," as in Uzbekistan and those. It should be quite interesting. And, as always, as soon as I figure out how to post a photo gallery, I'll get more up. But here's one more I couldn't resist: They had a team of Mongol wrestlers there, which as you all remember is the No. 1 sport in Mongolia. Here's one action shot:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIihJq6xygI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/HnbewahN2Ig/s1600-h/P1000209.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIihJq6xygI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/HnbewahN2Ig/s320/P1000209.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226604555075176962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there ya go.....&lt;br /&gt;If you'd like to follow along, they (of course) have a website: www.teamdesertaxi.com, so you can read more about them and the race, and please make a donation! It's all for a good cause, and raises money for people helping people and animals in Mongolia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else? I've been trying to catch up on movies. Finally got to see Wall-E  and loved the message it gave to us all. I was shocked ------ why am I still shocked?? ------- by the prices. 3.40 pounds (or $6.80) for a SMALL bag of unbuttered popcorn, on top of the $12 for a matinee ticket. (It can go as high as $26 for an evening movie, and you think I'm kidding?? Yep, 13 pounds. &lt;br /&gt;They do a kinda cool thing tho, where you can buy unlimited movies at one of the largest chains, for $30 per month. If you only saw one movie a week, it would be worth it. The only catch is that you have to buy a one-year contract.&lt;br /&gt;And no butter for the popcorn, can you believe it? Or you can also buy is "sweet," with sugar on top.&lt;br /&gt;Then today I went to the first matinee of "Dark Knight." I've read so much about how well it did in the States in the first weekend, and I had to see it..... and glad I did. Very dark, indeed, with an interesting storyline. But I don't know that it will break records here. There were MAYBE 20 people in the screening I went to. Granted, it was the first day, but they're hyped it here with plenty of ads. It was a bit unsettling when The Joker went on about how much he likes killing with knives instead of a gun, because there have been 21 knife murders in London already this year..... and I would hate to think that this movie could "inspire" more copycats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see, in the news here:&lt;br /&gt;The big story has been about this guy who faked his own death, but he was hiding in his house with his wife's knowledge the whole time. They LIED to their two sons, and the police and insurance companies, for six years. They wanted to get out of their debts here and start a new life in Panama, which might've worked until someone saw a photo of them on a website, buying real estate! Instead, they're serving six year sentences.&lt;br /&gt;There's also been quite a bit of picking apart what the royals and the celebrities wear. They love to get pix of them in outfits that they've previously worn. The best was one of Princess Ann in a frock that she DARED to wear eight years ago. I think it's amazing that she could still fit in it!&lt;br /&gt;They're now selling Coors beer here..... and the ads all say "Brewed in the UK." So much for Rocky Mountain Spring Water, eh?&lt;br /&gt;When giving an email address, they ALWAYS say "forward slash" here, instead of just "slash." Does anyone USE the back slash?&lt;br /&gt;My new favorite word: NUTTER. As in, he's a nutter, which is a nice way to say crazy person.&lt;br /&gt;Everything here along Kings Road and the High Street is "final reductions." All retailing is hurting, that's for sure. Most everything is 70% off now, which ALMOST brings prices into a realistic zone.&lt;br /&gt;I also loved reading about the innovations being doing by farmers in Wales. They're adding garlic to the cattle feed in hopes that it will reduce the amount of methane, and they're growing daffodils because there's something in them that might help slow down the onslaught of alzheimer's. Oh, and the culinary rage is all about mutton, not lamb. Mutton is two years or older, which gives it a gamier, stronger flavor, but it's having a resurgence in popularity, or so they say.&lt;br /&gt;And I love the hand dryers here, the ones where you place your hands down into a trough, and it blows air at such a velocity that your hands are dry in seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Bill Stafford and I went down to Brighton last Sunday. I was just there a few weeks ago, but Bill knew some people down there so I tagged along. It's a college town, with tons of bars, and the beaches are rocks instead of sand... but it does have an allure. Here's one final parting shot of the Brighton Beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIipZ341ZhI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/xgevrBnkAFs/s1600-h/P1000242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIipZ341ZhI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/xgevrBnkAFs/s320/P1000242.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226613629527614994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-7942809384121191280?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/7942809384121191280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=7942809384121191280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/7942809384121191280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/7942809384121191280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/07/yup-still-in-england.html' title='Yup, STILL in England!!'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SIigPkMrRQI/AAAAAAAAAQk/a7E0ocw27zM/s72-c/P1000171.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-7099944808506961733</id><published>2008-07-13T10:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T10:15:57.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss a day, Miss a lot (and an English Royalty Lesson)</title><content type='html'>I’m hanging in the UK for a bit longer than I expected, but then… it’s not like I have a bus to catch! But here’s a bit of what’s been going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the let-down of having Wimbledon and the Henley Regatta over, the only thing left was to watch “Competitive Bell Ringing” on the BBC. (You think I’m kidding??) Teams from all over the UK came for a full-day of clanging 12-bells. I did doze off a bit, but I think it was the team from Birmingham who wom. Or was it Leeds?&lt;br /&gt;The Brits love their “presenters,” who are the hosts of various TV shows. Graham Norton is my favorite, not just because he’s such an outrageous gay man but because he’s really quite funny. And because he’s on late night, there’s lots of four-letter words!&lt;br /&gt;I was channel surfing late one night, and whom did I spot but David Hasselhoff, and my bff from Las Vegas. (He and I exchanged some emails after I did an interview with him, and I was honored one night when he actually stood up and hugged me at a party a few weeks later, as if he really remembered me.) The Hoff was host of a show where the host changes each week, and they pull lots of silly stunts. &lt;br /&gt;I do like how they start and end shows at odd times. A show can begin at 11:15, and it can run 40 minutes if they want. Sure, there’s still lots of 30 and 60 minute programming, but not all!&lt;br /&gt;OK, just two more. I also try and catch a show called QI, the reverse of IQ, hosted by Stephen Fry. He has four people on who answer masterful questions about anything under the sun. But mostly it’s a humor show where they try and be wittier and pithier than the next, but none more so than the erudite Fry.&lt;br /&gt;And, for all you family tree fans, there’s a show called “Heir Hunters” where a team goes on the road to find heirs to unclaimed fortunes. It’s amazing how they can build and build the excitement to the point where someone opens the door to find they’re going to inherit $20,000 unexpectedly. Where’s Ed McMahon when you need him?&lt;br /&gt;And have I mentioned GINGERS before?? A “ginger,” in Brit parlance, is anyone with red hair. It’s a mildly derogatory, almost said with pity: “Oh, there’s a ginger…” like, you poor thing. It’s like a ginger is cursed by the devil, but everyone understands it’s out of their control.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the gingers are all the ones I see with the wild dyed hair: bright pinks, yellows and blues. Is that so 1980?&lt;br /&gt;I caught a new musical called “Marguerite,” which was written by the guys from Les Miz, Boubil and Schonberg, with music by Michel Legrand. You’d think, wouldn’t you? But no, it was a bit of a disappointment. It stars Ruthie Henshall, who’s a big deal in the West End of London, but not very known in the States. The surprise was the romanic lead: Julien Overden. He’s done a bit in New York, but he’s got an amazing voice and quite a looker, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve never quite understood the whole hierarchy of British royalty but now, thanks to Ali’s boyfriend Ed Monckton,  here’s that list:&lt;br /&gt;Monarch (King or Queen)&lt;br /&gt;Royal Prince/Princess&lt;br /&gt;Duke (addressed as Your Grace)&lt;br /&gt;Marquis&lt;br /&gt;Earl (but written as Lord Whatever)&lt;br /&gt;Viscount (again, addressed as Lord)&lt;br /&gt;Baron (addressed as Lord, but using first name, as Lord Charles)&lt;br /&gt;Baronet&lt;br /&gt;Knight (called Sir, as in Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber)&lt;br /&gt;And then there are “courtesy titles,” which can be titles given just for the person’s lifetime (rather than a peerage that passes down to the children), and those cam be anything from Earl or Duke down to The Honourable. WHSmith is actually The Honourable WHSmith, but that’s only a written title, never spoken.&lt;br /&gt;Phew, got it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-7099944808506961733?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/7099944808506961733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=7099944808506961733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/7099944808506961733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/7099944808506961733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/07/miss-day-miss-lot-and-english-royalty.html' title='Miss a day, Miss a lot (and an English Royalty Lesson)'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-4215605399175529151</id><published>2008-07-13T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:05:06.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The "Big Party" Report</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHon46P8fHI/AAAAAAAAAPk/OoLazqKcOA8/s1600-h/P1000138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHon46P8fHI/AAAAAAAAAPk/OoLazqKcOA8/s320/P1000138.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222530576551804018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHonB5TPN0I/AAAAAAAAAPc/lohN9jtfKdI/s1600-h/P1000128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHonB5TPN0I/AAAAAAAAAPc/lohN9jtfKdI/s320/P1000128.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222529631404373826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s Sunday, July 13 here in London, and I’ve been a lazy blogger. “The Big Party” was a week ago, and it took me a full three days to recover. NOT that I was hungover (I wasn’t, because I really didn’t have time to drink much at the party), just exhausted, as we all were.&lt;br /&gt;But, essentially, the party was a huge success. It just proves once again that, if you have the right elements, putting on a great event isn’t a mystery. Great food, excellent music and an interesting mix of people – that’s all it takes.&lt;br /&gt;The “marquee” (or tent) company took four days to put up on the lawn adjacent to the Manor House in Hambleden, where Henry’s mother lives. It involved the 4,100 square foot main tent, plus an attached tent for the cocktail reception and two auxiliary tents (for the kitchen and a room for the orchestra). Then the specialty lighting people took a day and a half, after which the caterer came in to set the tables and linen. The flower lady arrived on the morning of the event to place all her gorgeous flowers (that cost who-knows how much!), and the last to arrive were the furniture people, who put in the couches and tables into the reception tent, and finally the casino games people, who set up their tables in the conservatory.&lt;br /&gt;Whoops, and don’t forget the valet car parking service, which is somewhat rare in England. Most of the time, you self-park but Sara insisted that people should be able to pull up in front of the Manor and walk in without having to slog through the car park field across the street. (We lucked out with good weather, but it would’ve been a total mess if we had had rain that day.) And, who can forget the portable loo – the most amazing porta-potty I’ve ever seen. It was the size of a trailer, and had nice towels, music and framed art inside. (Too bad it got clogged up by around 11 pm, but that’s another story…)&lt;br /&gt;Canapes (what we would call heavy hors d’oeuvres) consisted of salmon, shrimp and tuna, as well as guacamole in pastry cups and sausages (of course, it’s England!). Then the curtains were drawn, and guests all took their seats. There were mostly tables of eight, and each had a place card – figuring out  who sat where was a process that went on for a week beforehand. (I had a hand in it, and my biggest faux pas was evidently placing two “arch rivals” not only at the same table, but literally right next to each other. Whoops.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHo0YC1emYI/AAAAAAAAAP0/SnDUvwbYIBk/s1600-h/P1000140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHo0YC1emYI/AAAAAAAAAP0/SnDUvwbYIBk/s320/P1000140.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222544305572190594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was served around 9:30 pm: filet steaks with fancy spuds and veg, and it was delicious, I must say. Then there were speeches, where daddy Henry introduced and thanked everyone, then friends of Sara (the 21 year old) and Ali (the 18 year old) gave witty short talks about them, those clever Brits.&lt;br /&gt;Dessert came next: American-style cupcakes with fresh berries. Then the 14-piece orchestra kicked in for a few hours of big band music, followed by a few more hours of “live DJ.” To top it  off, the caterer brought out “bacon butties” and chips (French fries) at around 1 am, which are basically bacon on hamburget buns with ketchup, but the kids all scarfed them up without haste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHop45kprNI/AAAAAAAAAPs/BY9HFjjVC58/s1600-h/P1000127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHop45kprNI/AAAAAAAAAPs/BY9HFjjVC58/s320/P1000127.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222532775393471698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone looked fantastic in their gowns and tuxes. Sally in her Carolina Herrera, and the girls in their designer togs as well. Earlier in the day, there was a team of hair, makeup and tanning people all over the house, making sure everyone looked their absolute best.&lt;br /&gt;I was familiar with most of the guest names, since I kept the rsvp list and did the place cards. Henry came with Frida, aka Anna-Frid, the original brunette in ABBA. (They’re living together at her home in Zermatt.) The Duke and Duchess of Norfolk arrived, and they’re good friends of all the Smith’s. (The Duke, aka Eddie, is the secular head of the Catholic Church in England, and a very high peerage.) Lord Hambleden, the girls’ grandfather, wasn’t able to make it, evidently due to a sick doggie at home. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHo1EMMVdhI/AAAAAAAAAP8/NOAR8gnRunM/s1600-h/P1000129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHo1EMMVdhI/AAAAAAAAAP8/NOAR8gnRunM/s320/P1000129.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222545063998223890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the party, some of the kids “retired” to their cars, where they slept, and a few even pitched tents. Mind you, these were the same kids who wore gowns and tuxes, but it’s considered completely normal for them to sleep it off in their cars and then drive home “sober” the next morning. &lt;br /&gt;Sara had set up a sea of blow-up mattresses in her dad’s rental house not far away. I never made it over there, but 20 or so made it to the after party, which lasted til 6 am or so…  (When I asked Sara is there was going to be some hanky-panky, what with all these virile 20-somethings, a lot of booze and a room full of mattresses, and she said: “No, we have more self-control than Americans.” Touche!)&lt;br /&gt;I’m sure I’ve forgotten some of the details – like the guy who arrived in his helicopter! Of course, the fun of such an evening is then hearing all the stories for the next week or so. The biggest scandal of the night seems to be a toss up between the guy who got so drunk he tried to walk home but then someone found him passed out in the bushes with his legs sticking out – or there were the two guys who were discussing who’s who at the party, and one said to the other “who’s the one in the blue dress with the bad roots,” and the other guy said: “that’s my girlfriend.” Whoopsie!&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was an amazing evening, and I was glad I could be a part of it. But the question remains: how are the girls gonna top this at their weddings!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHo2iTRcQPI/AAAAAAAAAQE/uIMsjhbxcMU/s1600-h/P1000143.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHo2iTRcQPI/AAAAAAAAAQE/uIMsjhbxcMU/s320/P1000143.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222546680806392050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-4215605399175529151?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/4215605399175529151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=4215605399175529151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/4215605399175529151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/4215605399175529151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/07/big-party-report.html' title='The &quot;Big Party&quot; Report'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SHon46P8fHI/AAAAAAAAAPk/OoLazqKcOA8/s72-c/P1000138.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-1222112897067396498</id><published>2008-06-30T04:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T04:11:30.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All London, All the time</title><content type='html'>I’ve been going back and forth between Hambleden and London, and it’s never a dull moment, shall we say.&lt;br /&gt;The Big Party happens this Saturday, July 5, in Hambleden, and people are starting to arrive (cousins from America, friends of the girls from everywhere!). Celeste (Sally’s sister and my best pal since college) arrived on Wed. and she and I have been tooling around London.&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday morning, thanks to a friend of Celeste’s who works for Universal Pictures, we got tix to see an advance screening of “Mamma Mia” in Leicester Square at the Odeon. (Mind you, the UK premiere is tonight, Mon. June 30th , and it opens in the US on July 18. Oh, and today is my godson Justin Thomas’ birthday! So HB, JT!) I have to say… the MM movie is pretty dang wonderful. I’ve never loved the stage show, but the movie is quite clever in the updates and changes it makes, and they made full use of the Greek landscapes and the Greek extras! If you’re on the fence, I’d say go…. Meryl Streep is wonderful, as are most of the others. (OK, Pierce Bronson won’t win awards for his singing, but it’s perfectly fine for the part…. And a few of the British accents are a little hard to catch for us Yankees, but those are minor complaints.)&lt;br /&gt;Celeste and I also took a day trip down to Brighton, where we enjoyed fish and chips at a little beach café, and we took a double-decker tour bus that ended up at the Royal Pavilion, which is AMAZING and I’ve never been inside it before on my other trips to Brighton. It was mostly built during the reign of George V, the one right before Queen Victoria. The outside looks Moorish but the inside is heavy Chinese. Quite a juxtaposition, with all of the hand-painted wallpapers and one-ton chandeliers. &lt;br /&gt;To complete my absolute “Tourist in London” rampage, I went over to the Tower of London with my friend Bill, who works for Visa card here in the marketing department. We were both a mite disappointed with the jewels… not a tiara or broach in the lot! But knowing that the place was begun in the 11th century does kill any doubts that you’re inside a special place…&lt;br /&gt;It’s been a non-stop flurry of sports here…. Mmm, my favorite thing! There was days and days of Ascot, now followed by endless days of Wimbledon… Oy. Did I mention that they place bets on what color hat the Queen will wear to Ascot on any given day?? Amazing, sort of like guessing what color dress Michelle Obama will wear to the inauguration in January 2009.&lt;br /&gt;(But rah-rah to Spain, for winning the Euro 2008 soccer, I mean futbol, games!!! Aren’t you impressed that I knew that??&lt;br /&gt;TV is almost loads of fun here, with “Last Choir Standing,” where choirs compete against each other (I take it there was a US version of it, which I somehow missed…). Another is “Mary, Queen of Shops” where this woman, oddly named Mary, goes round to a shop and tells the owner what he/she is doing wrong. But our favorite is “The Dragon Den,” where a group of five investors and venture capitalists listen to pitches from people selling a new idea or product, and they either decide to invest (individually or in groups) or send the poor bloke away without a penny. It’s fairly compelling, oddly enough.&lt;br /&gt;And then last night, I got home to the mews house, and Sara and her friend had bought a bag of marshmallows, and they were “roasting” them over a candle flame… Sort of that urban campfire thing you read so much about…&lt;br /&gt;Up next will be the complete story of the Big Party, so check back for details in a week or so! Or feel free to email me if you have any questions or comments.&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-1222112897067396498?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/1222112897067396498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=1222112897067396498' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1222112897067396498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/1222112897067396498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/06/all-london-all-time.html' title='All London, All the time'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-2456869007969006771</id><published>2008-06-18T01:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T01:29:41.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Ello Loves!</title><content type='html'>And how’s your world?&lt;br /&gt;I’m not sure how much press this got outside of the UK, but the government decided that (gasp) people could no longer drink of the subways (the tube) here in London. The night before the big change, about 17,000 people had a “party” riding the underground that night, with a few hundred arrests for drunken behavior. I’m not sure how much affect it had, in that I saw heaps of people drinking on the trains the week after the law changed. Beer and wine mostly… but old habits die hard.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there have been great strides in food here. I remember the first time I came here in 1972, and it was all steak and kidney pies and peas. It’s still that, but you can find more variety now – although most if it is bland, too. We ordered in Chinese the other night, and even the “spicy” stuff didn’t have much kick. Maybe I’ve just had too many jalapenos. &lt;br /&gt;I did have my first crumpets, however! They’re sort of like English muffins, but a bit doughier. They’re often served with “golden syrup,” which is a bit like a mix of honey and maple. &lt;br /&gt;Last weekend, I took the train down to Chippenham in Wiltshire, to see my friend Julia. She and I met in 1983 in New Zealand, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. Her husband, Tom, sells French wine, mostly from the Loire, and they have two wonderful kids, Olivia and Alexander. Alexander tried to get me to play any sport with him: soccer, cricket or tennis, but he discovered how the sports gene skipped me. Still, I had to laugh at his honesty when he finally realized I couldn’t connect my foot to the ball, and he said in exasperation: “You’re pathetic!” When it comes to sports, he’s quite right.&lt;br /&gt;Julia and Tom have been renovating and enlarging their home, and I was there to “celebrate” the one-year anniversary of the work being started … and they still have at least another 4-5 weeks to go. In the end, it’s going to be an incredible home.&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, we went to a “Fete,” pronounced more like “Fate,” which is a thing they do here as a fundraiser for the local church. It’s part rummage sale, part carnival, part bake sale. One of the many offerings was a game (for 50 pence) where kids got a handful of golf balls which they could then throw at china plates and break them. Another game had people trying to throw a tennis ball to get it inside a ring of circles, and the closer you got to the center the more points you earned. Then your name was entered in a notebook, and the winners would be announced at the end of the day. I said that Americans would never stand for that – we want instant gratification. But Julia noted that British people are, if nothing else, patient. They’ll wait to find out who won.&lt;br /&gt;Another huge story here has been the fact that Ireland turned down the proposal for the EU (European Union) constitution, which could throw the whole process of a unified Europe into the trash bin. There’s obviously deep fears about the growth of the EU,  which does seem somewhat justified. The EU has opened the borders, but that means many low paying jobs are now going to Eastern Europeans, and all sorts of rules are coming into play now. One example is that bed and breakfast owners are no longer allowed to keep their dogs inside the house, for sanitary reasons. Many B&amp;B owners have sworn to close down before they’ll put their dogs outside.&lt;br /&gt;Another concern here are with the gypsies. They’re Romanovs, from Romania, and they’ve been a part of the English countryside for years. I remember seeing the horse drawn carriages many years ago. But the new breed of gypsies are not as concerned with keeping their camps clean, and their reputation is that of thieves and scoundrels. Many communities are passing legislation that wouldn’t allow any gypsy camps in their villages. A Brit version of NIMBY (not in my back yard!)&lt;br /&gt;Wimbledon starts next Tuesday! On the heels of Euro 2008, which has something to do with lots of soccer, I mean “futbol.”&lt;br /&gt;Prince William became the 1000th knight in the Roayl Order of the Garter, a custom that has gone on for over 600 years here and shows how much more he’s becoming a working member of the royal family.&lt;br /&gt;Favorite phrase heard on the telly: A woman was talking about how much she enjoyed getting catalogs to look at, which she described as “groinal warming.”&lt;br /&gt;I’ve seen this work “bespoke” used, but I couldn’t quite figure it out and finally asked. It means “custom made,” as in you have a “bespoke suit” or you can have a “bespoke chair,” which means it’s been custom designed and made just for you. Now you know.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, watching the telly is always amusing. Tonight, in prime time, was a show about a guy who was making tea from the pods of the baobob tree. That was followed by a show about the nature of food phobias with British kids, and ways to get them to eat all that bland British food!&lt;br /&gt;Weather report: what else, but partly cloudy with a chance of rain!&lt;br /&gt;Tah-tah for now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-2456869007969006771?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/2456869007969006771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=2456869007969006771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2456869007969006771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2456869007969006771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/06/ello-loves.html' title='&apos;Ello Loves!'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-5814862653000882228</id><published>2008-06-09T03:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T03:22:13.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A (very) few pix</title><content type='html'>I know, I know, I need to get better about remembering to take my camera with me...&lt;br /&gt;But here are a few shots, just to give you an idea of where I'm staying at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I did buy a very inexpensive (like $20) cellphone... so who knows, maybe I'll call soon!&lt;br /&gt;xoxoxox&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width:194px;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" style="height:194px;background:url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wisethom/ABitOfEngland"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/wisethom/SEzz29Zu9IE/AAAAAAAAAN8/69vRnJzAxRo/s160-c/ABitOfEngland.jpg" width="160" height="160" style="margin:1px 0 0 4px;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align:center;font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:11px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/wisethom/ABitOfEngland" style="color:#4D4D4D;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;"&gt;A bit of England&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-5814862653000882228?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/5814862653000882228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=5814862653000882228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5814862653000882228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5814862653000882228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/06/very-few-pix.html' title='A (very) few pix'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/wisethom/SEzz29Zu9IE/AAAAAAAAAN8/69vRnJzAxRo/s72-c/ABitOfEngland.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-6586869025736084024</id><published>2008-06-09T02:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T02:55:51.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>London Calling</title><content type='html'>First up: Thanks to everyone who wrote to ask about my dear ol' Ma. The update is she's doing loads better, she's up and out again and looks like she'll have a full recovery. She says that she had worried about having a stroke, but she never thought about a heart attack. (Just goes to show you, right??) She's taking it slow, but all's well. I've been trying to call her a few times a week, as have many of my cousins, relatives and friends. On we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been back and forth between Sally's home in Hambleden (about 45 minutes outside of London, in Oxfordshire), and their mews house in London. During the week, time is spent working on the details of "the big party" upcoming on July 5, reading ALL the newspapers that arrive daily (seven, including International Herald Tribune, USA Today, plus all the London papers including The Times, Daily Telegraph, etc. etc.) and hanging with Sally. The last few weekends, I've come into London.&lt;br /&gt;I had a terrific lunch on Saturday with Athena, a friend who moved up from South Africa whom I met in 2000 when I was in Jo'Burg. She and I met on Oxford Street and then popped into a little Italy cafe and yakked for hours. Then that night, I phoned my friend Caroline -- she and I met in New Zealand in 1983 and we've always kept in touch -- and she was home (shock!), so I jumped on the tube and we had a lovely bite of salmon and had a good catch up. Then yesterday, I met up with Bill Stafford again (he's from Denver but now works in London). We popped into Harrod's (his first time there!), and then spent some time at the Victoria &amp;amp; Albert museum. Your typical day in London...&lt;br /&gt;I'll head back to Hambleden today (Monday).&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned earlier about the price of a subway ticket here ($8 for a single, altho cheaper options are available). But the price of gasoline would send Americans into shock! It works out to nearly $10 per gallon here, or about triple the cost in America. It's typical to "top up" your tank -- for $70 or so... They can't believe how cheap "our" gas is when I tell them, and then try to explain how unhappy everyone is...&lt;br /&gt;The weather has given us some blue skies for the first time, so that's wonderful. And not as hot as the east coast of the States! I read that NYC and DC have been in the high 90's.... And think of the humidity! Makes me grateful for the mild temps and "chances of showers" that always looms over England.&lt;br /&gt;I love reading the theater reviews in London. It's so competitive, what with ALL those newspapers here ... so they resort to some creative writing to make their points. Shows are "baffling" but have "magical realism" or end up just being "oddly poetic." Love it.&lt;div&gt;Hard to find trash cans in public areas here ... too much of an opportunity for bad people to place bombs in them.&lt;br /&gt;I'm still grappling with how I should've answered the passport lady's question when I landed here. She said: "What's the purpose of your trip," and I was taken aback... What IS the purpose of this trip?? I'm still working on that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-6586869025736084024?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/6586869025736084024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=6586869025736084024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/6586869025736084024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/6586869025736084024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/06/london-calling.html' title='London Calling'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-5449735469608539957</id><published>2008-06-01T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T07:35:17.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New news</title><content type='html'>I had a huge scare this week: My mom had a mild heart attack on Thursday night. She wasn't feeling right, and then had a pain in her jaw so she WISELY called 9-1-1 and was taken immediately to the hospital. They put a stent in an artery that was 100% blocked, and she's doing much better now. She stayed in ICU for almost two days, but they discharged her yesterday (Sat) and she's back home, and talking on the phone already! Bless her heart, she's 80 years old, but seems to have weathered this one. She'll have to take it easy for awhile, but all signs are that she's going to be fine, and perhaps even better than ever! My sister Nanc has been handling it all, and she says that there wasn't any need for me to come home... so I'll see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, I've been in London, and had time to see Bill Stafford today. He works for VISA, and will be traveling alot. He has a killer one bedroom in Hampstead, a great part of London. Now Sally and I are heading back to Howe Farm, the house in Hambleden. Tomorrow is Sally's birthday, so we'll have some fun there.&lt;br /&gt;A single tube (subway) ride is 4 pounds, or almost $8 dollars! Yikes!!!!! How do people do it here!?!? More to follow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-5449735469608539957?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/5449735469608539957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=5449735469608539957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5449735469608539957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5449735469608539957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-news.html' title='New news'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-3486414700498503260</id><published>2008-05-28T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T05:00:09.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Ello Loves!</title><content type='html'>Welcome back to England! It's been a few years since I was last here... but it's good to know that some things never change. &lt;br /&gt;I fly over on Aer Lingus, and they lost my bag! It's due to arrive today, nearly 48 hours after I arrived. If this is the biggest crisis, I think we'll do OK.&lt;br /&gt;And, of course, as I asked for, it's nice and gloomy and gray and overcast... and due to stay that way for the time being. &lt;br /&gt;I love it here, because Sally gets no less than seven newspapers delivered every day, which takes me hours to get through, and I love it. SO interesting to see how different papers approach the same subject.&lt;br /&gt;The Times also puts out its "Rich List" for 2008, which has the 1000 richest people in the UK. Who knew that you could make so much money in coat hangers and toilet paper! Most, of course, have done well with real estate and hedge funds, but I like holding onto the idea that you can still make money with "the basics."&lt;br /&gt;I'm staying with Sally now at her bucolic home in Hambleden, which is in Oxfordshire near Henley-on-Thames for those of you who know the area. I'll mostly be here, altho we're planning some trips into London to see shows, and I'll make some side trips to see friends. Mostly, we'll be working on The Party, set for July 5. (We began yesterday by starting an Excel spread sheet of rsvp's for the hordes of people invited. It should be a blast!)&lt;br /&gt;More later, naturally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-3486414700498503260?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/3486414700498503260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=3486414700498503260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/3486414700498503260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/3486414700498503260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/05/ello-loves.html' title='&apos;Ello Loves!'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-5030507347047689897</id><published>2008-05-25T13:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T13:50:07.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And I'm off</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the brevity of these posts, and I'll work at getting the photos to work right... &lt;br /&gt;But I'm in NYC, and heading to the airport in a few minutes (literally) to grab my flight (on Aer LINGUS...) to London. I'll be there by tomorrow afternoon, Monday May 26, and I'll be staying there with my friend Sally for several weeks. There's a big party being planned for July 5, in honor of the two Smith girls: Sara and Ali. I'll be around to help out, and will take a few side trips here and there. (Details to follow.)&lt;br /&gt;Quickly: in NY, I was able to catch up with Charlie Haigh (friend since 1972); Phyllis Pastore (almost as long); Michael Meyer and Lyndsey, who I met in Las Vegas but now they live in The City; Mary Frembgen, who works for Blue Man Group, and we went over to watch her friend Jon play in a "concert" that took place in a basement in Brooklyn (you think I can make this up??); and then a half day with Jim Prez, an old pal from Denver who now works at the Newark Museum. He got us into the new Rubin Gallery of Tibetan Art, in the former Barney's store at 17th and 7th. Highly recommended if you've never been.&lt;br /&gt;I did see Mike Daisey do his one man show called "How Theatre Failed America," and didn't learn much more, altho he's very talented. And a new Off-Broadway musical based on the short story: "The Adding Machine." Interesting, but not a tune you could hum.&lt;br /&gt;Again, forgive how fast this is, and I'll get better once I get on the road... but thanks for reading, and we'll talk once I get over the Pond.&lt;br /&gt;Cheerio!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-5030507347047689897?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/5030507347047689897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=5030507347047689897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5030507347047689897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/5030507347047689897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-im-off.html' title='And I&apos;m off'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-6537267194928516284</id><published>2008-05-22T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T13:15:40.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cape Cod</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I can't believe I've never been to Cape Cod! What a magnificent place, with all those adorable salt box houses built in the 17th century, the ocean ... and the lobster!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was able to catch one of the final shows of "The Miser," which had my dear ol' pal from high school days in it, Michael Ernst. He was terrific, and I was even able to attend the final cast party, which is always a treat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then Michael took a day off work (bless him!) and he drove me ALL over Cape Cod: from Woods Hole (where he works), up to Provincetown and all the parts in between. We ended the day by stopping and buying six pounds of steamers and a half dozen lobsters (for $9.99 per pound, mind you!). We had a grand meal with Michael, his girlfriend Christine Rathbun (a writer and actress of renown on the Cape), along with her daughter Marnie and her parents. It was a joy to spend so much time with Michael and the clan, and I hope to get back to the Cape soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a few shots of Michael and Christine, my best friends in Cape Cod.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fwisethom%2Falbumid%2F5203278916269657825%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-6537267194928516284?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/6537267194928516284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=6537267194928516284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/6537267194928516284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/6537267194928516284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/05/cape-cod.html' title='Cape Cod'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-3740524706677576727</id><published>2008-05-20T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T13:41:41.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The east coast swing</title><content type='html'>Here's all of the gang, or most of them... and a very fast update.&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Asheville, NC was a blast! I got to spend days with Constance Ensner, whom I've known since junior high school (many years ago... ). She now owns three high-end clothing boutiques in Asheville and seems to know everyone in town. Her son Ian was around, and we even got to have dinner with her ex-, Ray, as well as her new beau, Peter. (Got that?) Asheville seems to be in a time warp from the Deco years, but it's an incredible city of only 68,000. Home to the Biltmore and the Grove... it's all groovy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I took a 13-hour bus ride to DC, where Chrissy and Charlie Sabatino picked me up in a drenching rainstorm (bless them!), and I was then able to spend three days at their home in Arlington, Virginia. They've been there for many years, so it was interesting to hear how the place has changed. I also got to see my ol' pal Stephanie Mumford and her husband Jack, where we toured the newly remodeled National Portrait Gallery, and had an amazing tapas lunch at a restaurant Steph chose that was close to the museum. I also had a dinner with Michael Ribar, who I wrote a story about years ago when I was at the Rocky Mountain News in Denver. He's quite amazing, and now works at George Washington University in graduate admissions while studying for his Masters. And then I had time to have a lunch with Sue Toma, the mother of my great friend Becky Toma. She lives very close to Arlington, so it was easy and then she kindly dropped me off for the train to Pennsylvania.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then it was train time up to Philly, where I stayed with my brother Dave and his new wife Diane. Dave and his son Grady and I took off for the Mutter Museum in Philly. It was finished with an awesome steak and lobster dinner prepared by Dave. What a treat, and I'm blessed and spoiled!! Up next: Cape Cod.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fwisethom%2Falbumid%2F5204413947276971809%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-3740524706677576727?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/3740524706677576727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=3740524706677576727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/3740524706677576727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/3740524706677576727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/05/east-coast-swing.html' title='The east coast swing'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-289673116240433976</id><published>2008-05-07T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T20:53:48.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A quick update</title><content type='html'>I'm on the road, sort of.&lt;div&gt;I spent two nights and a day in Atlanta with my pal Betty, where she showed me some of the town and we got to have lunch with John Kessler (who used to work in Denver at the Denver Post and Westword, but now works for the Atlanta Constitution). We somehow managed to squeeze in a roast suckling pig dinner, a prayer meeting, a visit to the DeKalb Market and a dinner at a groovy restaurant called Two. At least I think that was the name...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I grabbed a bus to Columbia, SC, where I was picked up by my dear friend Elinor, who I traveled with in India circa 1996. (She used to be the art director at Archeology magazine, and her house and gardens are fantastic!) We then drove down to Edisto Island, just north of Hilton Head, where she had rented a house along with her son Addison, his girlfriend Connie and her daughter Rossie (from Denver!). We've had a great time here, eating fresh seafood, fixing meals and then planning the next meal, riding bikes and touring the island. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the trip has begun, and I couldn't be happier! Up next: Asheville, NC.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-289673116240433976?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/289673116240433976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=289673116240433976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/289673116240433976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/289673116240433976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/05/quick-update.html' title='A quick update'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-9015325859304137237</id><published>2008-04-27T21:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:05:06.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just your average day in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SBVVFg3kiNI/AAAAAAAAADE/1cgept94UA0/s1600-h/DSC00141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SBVVFg3kiNI/AAAAAAAAADE/1cgept94UA0/s320/DSC00141.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194151298452457682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-9015325859304137237?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/9015325859304137237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=9015325859304137237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/9015325859304137237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/9015325859304137237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-your-average-day-in-puerto.html' title='Just your average day in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pTYX7fE1O70/SBVVFg3kiNI/AAAAAAAAADE/1cgept94UA0/s72-c/DSC00141.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3914518336878777250.post-2978910002614552308</id><published>2008-04-23T18:21:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T21:12:50.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here We Go Again</title><content type='html'>I'm on the road. Where I'll stop, nobody knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this blog is as good a place as any to keep track me. Consider this as my "Thommy Radar." OK, I promise, once I'm on the road, the posts will get more interesting, more erudite and frankly, more fun. (The jokes, I'm afraid, won't improve!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you somewhere far, far away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Thom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3914518336878777250-2978910002614552308?l=wisethom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/feeds/2978910002614552308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3914518336878777250&amp;postID=2978910002614552308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2978910002614552308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3914518336878777250/posts/default/2978910002614552308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wisethom.blogspot.com/2008/04/test-post.html' title='Here We Go Again'/><author><name>Thom Wise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08947191790502449763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
