Tiring of Quito Tours

Being close to La Ronda, a special landmark heavily marketed in the tourism literature, we decided to give it one more shot. When we were here last, we visited it twice on two different occasions and at differing times, only to find it disappointing. It does not live up to the hype.

Shown as the home of many poets, musicians and politicians of Ecuadorian history, the street is supposed to be alive with restaurants, artist workshops, cafés, and informational signs relating the history of the area. These informational signs were apparent two years ago, but they seem to have disappeared over time. In spite of multiple tour companies bringing hordes of people to the street, the vast majority of the restaurants, souvenir shops and artists’ workshops were closed in the early Friday afternoon.

As much as we like Quito, we started to tire of the "Landmarks Walking Tour" when we attempted to find the special cemetery on the list only to be chased by the tourist police. Apparently, to get there, you have to walk through some tough territory. When the officer realized where we were going, he escorted us part of the way and then stood guard as we continued.

When we realized around the bend meant scaling a major hill, we decided to turn back or risk a burial when we made it to the land of the dead. Other spots on the list were plazas or convents we had already visited. This list overlapped with the Religious Sites Walking Tour.

Santo Domino Church, La Compania Church, Church of San Francisco, Convent de la Merced, El Sagrario Church, the Quito Cathedral, they all blend together after a while. Of all, I liked the cathedral the best. Here you can see St. Christopher’s last stand and statues with shower caps.


On Sundays, the crowds in the Old Town area are horrendous. You see some strange characters out on the streets.

Traffic on our street backs up most days. 

We discovered the ‘holy’ breads for Holy Week. We bought a lyre, but it was pretty stale.

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Where is the Logic?

No country would disagree that they are not actively romancing the tourist trade luring tourist wallets to their region. Yet, conversely, it seems many of these places try to squeeze every cent (Euro or US) from you in the process. 


Germany started a controversial air emission tax on all outbound flights in Germany. This came into play at the beginning of 2011. Add to the mix, the additional distance based fees of up to €45 per flight in conjunction with all of the airline fees that suddenly appear after you hit the BUY THIS button. Talk about sticker shock. How many times have we been so emotionally invested by that point that we just say 'to hell with it' and pay the exorbitant fees anyway?


It doesn't stop with the airlines in Germany either. Cologne was the first city in Germany to introduce a bed tax. Gaining popularity, over fifty other German cities are considering the same option.  


Business travelers to destinations such as Barcelona or Rome are finding extra fees have been added to their hotels passed off as an accommodation charge, but it can reach up to €3 per night. If a taxi was not a luxury before, it may well be now with an increase in taxi fares of up to €10 per a ride. They will take you for a ride alright, both literally and metaphorically. Neither of these charges are relegated solely to the business traveler, so fatten your wallet before arriving. And the US is not off the hook either. In September 2010 the US introduced an entry fee $14 per person to enter the country.


While covering tourism news, this report just came out. Hotel revenue in Hungary was the lowest in Europe during January. Of all of Hungary, Budapest came in at the bottom of the list. Once they tally the figures, it will probably be the same for February. You can tell that the tourism arena is hurting when you can go to Heroes Square multiple times a week at differing times and find it sparsely populated other than a few skateboarders. 

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Green, Green, Everywhere Green

Rain, sun, sprinkles of rain, sun, rain rain, sun, all in the first hour of our morning, but it continued like this all day.My umbrella was up and down, up and down. It was like an old man who had used an out-of-date dose of Viagra.

Our hotel was booked by Rail Ireland as part of the rail tour we will be taking with them tomorrow, but this gave us two nights in Dublin to settle in before getting up at 7 am to catch the train. The train station is two blocks away, a hop, skip, and a jump even with suitcases. We only travel with a carry-on bag each and I have my computer backpack for my 2 pound netbook and another 2 pounds of camera and equipment.

Breakfast at the hotel was going for 15 Euros additional, making it an easy choice to look elsewhere for our caffeine fix. We found a coffee place in the Spar stores called Insomnia. Their special was a choice of any coffee or tea drink along with any muffin, scone, log roll, or other sweet for 3.50 Euros. Having spent two summer vacations in Edinburgh, I catch myself thinking in British Pounds not Euros, sending chills up my spine when I see the cost of things. Then I realize, it is Euros, which is not as bad. Still, the cost of things here are expensive enough in Euros, let alone BP. For all of the economic depression Charlie and the hotel staff have mentioned, it has not hit the restaurant industry for sure. Looking at menus along the way, food is still expensive.

We were here in October/November 2001 when Ireland, but Dublin in particular was one of the richest countries and cities in Europe. Much of their money was made in computers. Apple, Microsoft, Dell, and others have European headquarters here. Prosperity was green for sure, but came in the many colors of the Euro bills also. Since then, multiple of ten times thousands have lost their jobs, not only in the computer industry, but others as well. Personal or professional space in Dublin was difficult to find and if you could was on par or greater than NYC for rents. In spite of the cost of everything, the city was alive. Restaurants, pubs, and stores were overflowing with tourists, even in the autumn months.

The changes in the economy are tangible. There is a feeling in the air, like a 21st century potato famine. It is difficult to miss visually as well with “For sale” and “For rent” signs everywhere. Office buildings are vacant. Rents are being offered for 15 Euro a square meter. People are being paid to stand on pedestrian streets holding advertising signs for services of businesses down side streets, which may otherwise be overlooked. Our hotel advertises their 'Rack' rate on the door as 175 Euros per person a night. Through IrishRail Tours we are paying 99 Euros a night for both of us. Certainly, even without IrishRail, bargains are to be had everywhere just to fill rooms. The rate signs were holdovers from better days.

The day was spent just walking exploring the different areas. Since we have been here before so it was a 'get our bearings' journey. The city is no stranger to us, but there are parts we had not had proper introductions to yet. One such place was St. Stephen’s Green, which was new for us, but we only walked the inside periphery. The expanse of the park is twenty-two acres. One of the tourism people gave us the names of three used book stores. This made up our next three stops. Not buying a thing, I did make notes of titles that jumped out at me. So many did so, I felt like a victim of a lynching. We have 48 hour Hop On-Hop Off bus ticket, but it is 2 consecutive days. Leaving for our tour tomorrow, it is prudent to wait until we return to use it to the max.

The pub that Charlie recommended we all attend last night is called Ryan’s and it is just a ½ block from our hotel. We went there for a pint where I discovered Galway Hooker beer. This is my new favorite beer. Ron ate at the pub, but not being hungry yet, I skipped it. We walked to the train station, a few blocks from our hotel to get a visual for tomorrow’s excursion. The fast food place appealed, so I settled for a portion of curry fries for my dinner, but we had to return  to Ryan’s for a nightcap of that great beer. When we return from our tour, we will be on the other side of the city, making this less convenient to get to.

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Éirinn go Brách

We are leaving on a jet plane, sadly we know when we will be back again. If you recognize the title or realize it is the Gaelic version of Erin Go Bragh (Ireland Forever), that is where we are headed. Off to the Emerald Isle for a week's vacation, we will start in Dublin. 

In today's Tourism Review, there was an article about the dire state that Irish pubs are facing due to lack of tourism. They cannot keep their doors open with fewer bar hoppers coming in to get a wee bit of Irish in their bloodstream. Locals are finding they can save two-thirds the cost of booze by buying it in the grocery store. This must distinguish the social drunks from the hardcore 'I just need to get drunk' drunks.


The Irish pub owners can count on us to do our bit for the economy and have a pint or two, but we will spread our euros out here and there. We will be in Dublin for only a couple of nights, Cork one or two, and then somewhere else. Needless to say, Ron planned the trip, not I. The Irish Travel Association along with the Irish Rail have a number or packages, allowing me to comment on at least one as we venture forth.


As usual, the whole trip will be documented on my handy-dandy 2 pound netbook computer. I don't leave home without it. However, the postings may lag behind the times depending in the availability of Internet access. As spoiled as I have become here in Budapest, where WiFi is everywhere and free, I do hear from guests many complaints about other parts of Europe and the US really having fallen by the wayside of the Internet highway in this regard. So know as soon as I am able, the posts will be a comm'in your way. 


We return on the 24th, a short trip, but as the Irish proverb goes "Is deas an rud an beagán ach é a dhéanamh go maith." 
Little is best if well done.

"The legend goes that St. Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland. I was thinking... that must be hard to put all the tiny seatbelts on all the snakes."
-- Ellen

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This Commercial Break is Brought to You...

A commercial break as in consumerism, business and leisure travel has been severely interrupted by a volcanic explosion in Iceland. When volcanoes spread their ash, it goes beyond countries and covers continents. Winds prevailed in sparing the capital city of Reykjavik in addition to other more populated areas. Considering this is Iceland, those populated areas would be those with more than one hundred people. Icelandic experts say the activity of the volcano is not letting up, which means that further traffic chaos is in the offing. Interestingly, commercial flights are able to make it to the US, due to direction of the ash coverage. Most countries in Western and Central Europe have closed airports. Budapest airport was closed as of noon today and was waiting for further reports. However, if other European airports remain closed, whether or not this airport is open will not determine who is going to fly.

MÁV-Start the Hungarian railroad system has been providing extra cars on trains bound for Zurich, Munich, Berlin and Bucharest on Sunday night to accommodate travelers stranded by the closure of the airport. The rail company said that it will steadily monitor rail traffic and the sale of international tickets and provide more international trains, if necessary.

The concentration of pollution particles rose fivefold in Budapest in a matter of hours when ash from the volcano reached the city, but other areas of Hungary have had it up to eightfold.

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A Forest Without a Spirit, a Beach Without Water

Our driver, Dennis, was ready for us at 8am. The owner of the agency came with him and wished us a pleasant journey and also asking that we spread the word. His agency needs business, tourism is really down. They are all struggling for work. As most of our excusions have borne out, the scenery leaving the city is interesting, but not beautiful. With every mile, you are confronted repeatedly with the poverty that abounds, yet the people all look content. As I look at the roadside businesses created in shacks, huts, and tin buildings, I cannot help but wonder how they raised the money to even stock a store. Most of the areas look desolate, not buyers in sight, so it boggles my mind how they can stay in business. Yet, the Coca-Cola delivery man is everywhere as well as their logos.

Driving for close to 2 hours, we finally reached our first destination, the forest. Dennis led us to the office to buy our tickets from the Kenya Forestry Service. At $20 per person, we were official to hike the trails, but if we wanted to drive them, it would cost more. We had thought we were heading for a 'kaya', a spiritual place where we could only be led into by a holy person from the reigning tribe of the particular kaya. Instead, we met Jonathon, our guide for our hike. Jonathon was quick to respond to our questions about this being a kaya, saying it was only part of the National Forestry Service and not associated with any kayas. Our first disappointment in the day's adventures.

I was set to have a spiritual experience, but I was destined to have trees identified for me, butterflies named, and bird watching here and there. Jonathon also found some elephant shrew, but neither of us could spot where he was pointing, so we missed them. The longer we walked the hotter it became. At the end of an hour, Jonathon said, "Wow, is it hot!" My response was that if he thought it was hot, then imagine how we felt. He said the temperature was hovering around 98 degrees and the storm clouds above proved that the humidity was just as high. We walked to the elephant trail, passing through an electric fence to keep the elephants in their own area. Part of the forest is a sand quarry where they mine the sand for making glass. It is the finest, silkiest sand I have ever felt. He took us to a tree house for a look-out point. It was too high for my taste, so I stayed behind, not having an appreciation of heights. Ron climbed up, but did not return with exaltations, so I guess I did not miss much. It turned out Jonathon was in a hurry to leave early today to attend a friend's wedding. We told him we saw enough trees, so we could return to the office. There were a splendid assortment of butterflies, but as their nature is, they do not stay still long enough to pose for a picture. I did not take a single photo during this forestry venture. There were also no spiritual experiences to be had either.

The next stop was a special beach with a boardwalk. However, when we arrived, we found that there was an 800 shilling (8 euro) admission charge per person, so we decided to forgo it and moved on. It was deserted, so I think the entrance fee was dissuading visitors. The final stop was a premier beach in Mombasa. It was littered with vendors selling drinks. Each had about 20 bottles of soda or water to offer, the extent of their stock. The beach was empty, but the sand went for a mile before reaching ocean. Seaweed was decorating the sandy beach brought in during high tide and left there. Some seashells were interspersed with the green leaves, but nothing is allowed to be removed from shores, leaving me helpless as a collector.

Ron decided he needed to dip his feet in the water, so I waited with Dennis. Ron had a long walk ahead of him, but finally reached his thighs. Dennis said that at 4pm, the beach would be filled, because this is when the water returns. All those that were arriving early with their inner tubes and water toys were in for a disappointment for a few hours to come.

With the beach half way back to the hotel, the ride to return was shorter, but once we reached the hotel at 1:30pm, there was not much to do.  It was too hot to explore Fort Jesus again, so we stayed in the room and read or wandered down to the patio for a cup of tea. With non-stop air conditioning, the hotel is a welcomed refuge, unlike Zanzibar, where the electric goes off and on. There are often entertainers on the patio also, usually a trio playing all of the golden oldies of the American music. One singer joined in for some time and sounded like Louie Armstrong.

One thing that I cannot fault anyone for in our experience is the service we have received. Everywhere we have been the service has been excellent from top to bottom. A couple of times, we have walked in on the maid cleaning our room. Each day, the furniture is polished, the sheets are changed, and the floors are mopped, in addition to all of the usual cleaning duties one would expect.   

Behind the hotel is a Chinese-Malaysian restaurant. We gave it a try for dinner. The food was great, but it was curious to see an all Black staff in a Chinese restaurant.

To read more about a Kaya forest, go here.

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Birthday Greetings

Today is my birthday so after breakfast, I checked e-mails and found a few Facebook "Happy Birthday" greetings and two electronic cards that I could not open. The Internet access is over at 4pm today and I will not renew it. It is too easy for me to get distracted with the computer.

I convinced Ron that we should return to the second tour office to book our forest excursion tomorrow. When we reached it, one of the employees was standing downstairs trying to prompt other tourists to check them out too. After twenty minutes of talking, we were all set. The car will come for us at 7am and return us at 3pm. We paid 7,500 shillings per person and we have to pay $20 per person at the gate to the national park.

When we left, Amos, the salesman who we initially ran into downstairs, was there again. He asked what we were planning for today. We told him we did Old Town and Fort Jesus partially, not impressed enough to return. However, our first goal was to find an ATM machine that would take MasterCard. Naturally, he knew which of the plethora of banks did accept the MC cards and offered to walk us there. All the while he was telling us about this "cultural center" run by a university where 8 tribes from Kenya are represented. He made it sound so interesting, but my 'shyster' radar was on high alert. I am not sure if it was because it was my birthday or just age in general, I thought we should give this well groomed, well-spoken young man  a chance. We decided this was something we should see. At that moment, we thought Amos was going to tell us how to get there, end of story. We did not know the story was just starting.

The first thing you need to know is that the public transportation went on strike as of yesterday. Before getting any gradiose ideas of the transportation system, let me clue you in. The entire system is based on matattas. What is a matatta, you ask? These are normal vans that act as buses. Each authorized van has a yellow stripe across the side showing their destination. They stop at matatta stops like a bus would, but there is no schedule or route listed at the stops. To know where to get a matatta going where you want to go or where to get off is in-bred knowledge transferred down through the local gene pool. For a foreigner it is a game of twenty questions or more trying to figure out the system. Each matatta is privately owned and operated, but they must belong to the Matatta Association in order to operate legally. They were striking due to the police stopping them unnecessarily along the routes and asking for bribes. Even with a strike, there were a few still driving. Amos took us to the stop. A car pulled up and he wanted to shove us in it. There were already 3 passengers and no room for Ron and I unless we sprawled over the other bodies. We said no way. A matatta ride runs 60 shillings.

With this strike, Amos said he negotiated with a taxi driver to take the three of us for 300 shillings. Suddenly, Amos was part of our group. Another man was already in the taxi going the same direction as we were. He was in the front passenger side. His long greasy wavy hair that he attempted to tuck into his little cap and down his collar combined with the beard, glasses, and crazed look on his face brought visions of Richard Reid the American shoe bomber. With a temperature in the 90s, his over-sized shirt that resembled long underwear and the vest he wore over it did make me uneasy.  

All during our forty-five minute ride, I had visions of being part of a suicide bombing scheme. Once we left the hustle of the city, I was able to relax a bit. It would be pointless for a suicide bomber to waste himself in the outskirts of the city. When we reached Movi University, I was relieved. All I had was a 5oo shilling note, but the driver could not make change. He promised to credit us for the ride home. Amos took his number to call when we were ready.

Entrance to the center was 850 shillings (8.50 euros) for each of us, but residents were free, so we did not have to pay for Amos. Our guide was Michael, a student at the university working on his diploma in Tourism and Culture. He was working at the center as part of his internship. We were the only visitors that day. In order to educate Kenyan children of the different cultures within the country, they opened this center that was once a quarry for limestone. Amongst the trees and plants that were introduced over 30 years ago, they have created 8 tribal areas. Each area contains housing built according to that particular tribe and looks like a small version of that tribe's village. There is one resident at each area, a tribal person that lives there all year to explaing their way of life and customs. Each tribal person speaks their own language, so Michael was the interpreter. The person, sometimes a man and other times a woman, would show us inside their hut, where parents and children slept, how they cooked, weapons if they used them, what their tribal customs are. Some are hunters, some are gatherers, others a combination of both. One tribe sustains itself on crocodiles and hippos exclusively. At each village, we would spend fifteen to twenty-five minutes. Michael was an excellent guide. I could not conceive of living alone all year away from your entire tribe. Michael said they do take a week or more sometimes to visit home, but someone else from the tribe has to come to replace them.

At the end, there is the gift shop, where women from the university are working doing their darnedest to get people to buy souvenirs, mostly same-same as everywhere else. They were tough salespeople making it difficult to refuse. Finally, we compromised on a bookmark and bottle of water to get her off my back. Then we had to watch the Masai tribe dance, though we said we already saw it in Masai Mara. These guys were hanging around waiting for some tourist to pop up so there was no way of getting out of it. After they were done, they wanted to sell us a CD of their music. Hardly an enticement. Then there was the 'request' for a donation for the performance, another 500 shillings (5 euros).

Amos was trying to get our driver, but he was out at the airport on the other side of the city. We sat and had a drink speaking with Michael and Amos about the state of affairs of Kenya. Both are educated and eloquent speakers. They repeatedly said it was up to young people like them to make changes, but the old guard kept the talented youth from making inroads into the professions. They claim the unemployment rate here is 60%. Young people are getting educated, but then cannot find jobs. Sounded like a familiar story worldwide. What was interesting was their take on tourism. They said that after clashes happen, it takes 3 years for the tourists to return. BBC and CNN give unfavorable reports on the tribal clashes causing undue worry, but those who would have come, put it off. In 2012, they will have the next presidential election. Michael said that after each election there are major problems with rioting and tribal conflicts. He predicts this will dissuade tourism once again.

We waited for over an hour for our driver who was no closer to picking us up than he was earlier. Amos called a fried with a tuk-tuk who appeared suddenly. He was willing to tranport us back for 1,000 shillings (10 euros). Fine, we kissed our 2 euro credit from the first driver good-bye, but we needed to get back. We agreed. We gave Michael a 500 shilling (5 euros) tip for the tour after he made it clear how expensive an education was when you could not work during an internship or while classes were being held.

The tuk-tuk ride was wild to say the least, but we took it in stride. Amos did not. He backseat drove the entire time, screaming at the driver for taking unnecessary chances with passing, barely missing pedestrians, and making turns. When we first started, the tuk-tuk kept losing gears. We had to stop a half dozen times for adjustments. When we finally reached town, he dropped us off about 1/4 mile from the hotel, why, I am uncertain. Amos continued to follow us like a puppy when we stopped at a supermarket to pick up a couple of beers and bag of peanuts. He asked if we could buy him a drink, so chose a yogurt one. Finally, I realized the only way to shake him was to tip him. Though we could probably have made our way without him, it would have been extremely complicated. He was excellent company and pure enjoyment to speak with, so I handed him 1,000 shillings (10 euros). After thanking me, he said "I don't want to impose and if you cannot it is fine, but I have to buy a book for my son's primary school. It costs 1,500 shillings, so if you could give me another 500 shillings (5 euros), I can go right to the store and buy it before going home." I handed him the money.

When we were back at the hotel, we realized we had spent most of what the local bank would allow us to take out in one offering. Just enough for dinner was left. We went to the Blue Room Restaurant. Signs everywhere said self-serve, but a young man told us to have a seat and took our order. Again, I thought maybe he really doesn't work here and just gets orders for the unsuspecting. As it turned out, he did indeed work there. It was a cheap meal, but tasty. Back at the hotel, we had a pot of tea and a piece of chocolate cake while Ron sang a rendition of Happy Birthday.  The Disney Corporation had the song copyrighted so anyone singing it on restaurants in the US, movies, commercials, etc. have to pay royalties to Disney. Fortunately, Mickey Mouse was no where in sight.

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Happy 2010

We made our last trek up the mountain of stairs for breakfast today. We leave at 5am tomorrow morning for Mombasa, Kenya. Zanzibar was nice, but we overstayed. Seven nights is too long. As romantic as the name sounds, there is not a lot to do and those who come expecting beautiful beaches are gravely disappointed. Add in the electric and banking issues and it can make it extremely challenging.

Honestly, over two weeks into this trip, we planned it the way we usually plan trips, but we goofed this time around. Normally, what we do is pick the time we want to be away and then fill in what we want to do, where we want to stay, and what we want to see within that range. Up to this trip, this method has worked well for us. As I said, in retrospect, 7 days on Zanzibar is too long. Four days would have been plenty. We could have done the turtle tour to spend another day doing something, but we had the feeling there were would be as many turtles as there were dolphins, making it a waste of money. 

The beaches in Stonetown are not swimming beaches, they are for the fishing boats and tourist dhows, though there is not much of a beach anyway. The better beaches are a taxi ride away. We are not beach people anyway, but those we know who have come for the beaches swore they made a mistake. The sights on the island are limited. Today, we did go to the old palace of the Sultan. It was interesting, but in dire need of repair in every inch of the place. 

We saw the fort last night when we went to dinner, we did the spice, dolphin, and monkey tour. We toured every touristy souvenir shop innumerable times and they all have basically the same merchandise.

We have seen more of the hotel room here than we ever have on any vacation. Part of this is that the heat and humidity wipes us out, but there really is not much to persuade us to stay out for. Been there, done that. We could have cut it short, but live and learn. According to the owner of the 236 Hurumzi Hotel, Stonetown is the largest city on the island and there is not much else on the rest of the island. Even if there were, we would need to taxi there, the public transportation consists of trucks with lengthwise benches in the back. When they are filled up, they go to the destination. After arriving someone, we may never be seen again, not knowing how to return again.

A stop at Mercury's for a drink took some time today. Later, we went to another restaurant we had drinks at previously, but this time Ron had a pizza. One last trip through the shops was just to waste some time until the fan and air conditioning at the hotel were turned on again. For dinner, we went to Monsoon Restaurant, but almost didn't. We wanted to have a drink on the terrace and dinner inside. They refused to allow us a drink outside, but would serve us dinner inside. Not understanding their reasoning, we questioned it again when the manager, a German woman overheard us. She came to the rescue and said it was fine. Inside, you leave your shoes at the door and sit on mats on the floor. Dinner was good, but my chicken curry was a leg and thigh only. Ron had prawns and a healthy serving of them too.

We did our last stop at Kilude Cafe, said good-bye to Esther, our favorite waitress and went to bed for a 4:30 am wake-up call.

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Zebra, Makes a Body Strong

Our 6:30am game drive for two hours...this is supposed to be a vacation right? Aren't vacations about sleeping in? Well, the animals are not going to wait for you to plan your day, so you catch them when they clock in for the day. Drive, drive, drive. Two female lions roaming the plains, when one starts strutting propelling into a full run. We could see small things moving around the grasses, but could not tell what they were. Joseph said they were mongoose. Then the lion pounced and you could hear an shriek. The last utterance from that mongoose making some snake rejoice.

A short distance away, there was an area with more vans than a used car lot, but half of the tourists are not staring in the direction that we are. We are staring at the two female lions sprawled on the ground under bushes, one obviously nursing, but no cubs in sight. Joseph pulls up the van when room allows. Now we know what the others were engrossed in; another lionness polishing off her breakfast, the remains of a zebra. As National Geographic as this was, I still felt for the zebra. Do other zebras miss him? Will he or she be missed. Gosh, Fred was such a great zebra; too bad about the lion incident. Oh, well, more grazing room for me. Someone pass me that greener grass over there.

The rest of the day was our own, but Joseph had offered to drive us to the Masai village for a 'cultural' experience. Ron said he wanted to go, so we arranged a time that allowed us a couple of hours of relaxation first. Even sitting in a van for hours can be exhausting as ridiculous as it may sound. As we were sitting on our balcony reading, Ron read in the tour book that the Masai village experience was 1,000 shillings per person, but you could bargain them down. Joseph had quoted 2,000 each. Just as we were debated whether or not we should go, Ron ensued "It is a once in a life-time experience" and then continued reading from the book that this was a touristy thing to do and we would not get much culture there. What to do, what to do? We voted 2-0 to go anyway.

We were greeted by "Ben", a new Masai warrior had just earned his promotion by returning from the wilds after a year of living off of the land, but with a group of other young warrior-hope-to-bes. Ben had excellent English. It seems he was schooled at a boarding school from grades 1-8, but the money ran out due to the drought, so was not able to continue. He told us there is no free education in Kenya, not even primary schools, so every parent has to pay for their child's education.

Their huts are made of tree branches with mud and cow dung and it is the women's job to build them. There is a 'room' for calves, one for goats, while the parents sleep on one side of a room separated from the children's area by the cooking area. All rooms combined do not make it 150 square feet. The children's sleeping area is for up to 5 kids, both boys and girls. We did not think to ask about toileting. Now that Ben is eighteen and finished his warrior training, he is living in a bachelor hut with 9 other young men, but they all still return home to mama for all of their meals. He said they move every 5 years, because termites infest the wood in the huts. To keep the environment clean, they burn down the entire village and move to an entirely new area.

We were only a couple of a handful of tourists visiting. We watched the dancing by the women, the dancing by the men, and their famous jumping up and down. The one who jumps the highest according to the chief is able to take a wife without paying the dowry of ten cows. All others pay in beef. Each man can have up to 10 wives if he has the 10 cows for each dowry, but the problem is that there are only two families in this village, so incest is rampant.

The reason they all wear red is because lions are afraid of red, so when they are tending their cows or sheep, they can scare away lions with their red clothes, which are imported from Nairobi. When we were ready to leave, Ben tried getting us to buy a beaded necklace with a lion's tooth on it. It supposedly was from the lion he had to kill for his warrior trials. Had it been me, I would have wanted every tooth as a memento of my stupidity, I mean bravery. Lions are endangered here. We went round and round refusing as politely as we could, when he pulled out his bargaining skills telling me that going back and forth was the way to make a deal. I explained a hard lesson to him. In order to successfully bargain, there has to be supply and demand. He had the supply; I did not have the demand. It seemed that I had to be really blunt by saying, you have something to sell, but I have no desire to own it at any price, therefore, there is no leeway for negotiations.

A different tactic was to show us the "elementary school" they were building, but had to stop due to lack of funds. We negotiated a donation of 1,000 shillings, half of what he wanted for the tooth, but with no cash other than the 4,000 we already paid, we could not do it. He rode back to the lodge to collect. He had to walk back and it was fifteen miles if it was a mile, just for the 1,000 shillings, so it must have been really important to him. It was not until later that I wondered what happens to the school house when the village is moved and burned to the ground.

Relaxation was the order of the day for the rest of it. We read, napped, relaxed, packed for leaving tomorrow. I had just finished a tremendous book called The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson. Our mode of operations is to bring books with us that we will enjoy reading, but are not attached to, so they can be left behind lightening up the luggage. I had left an Elizabeth George book in our first hotel in Nairobi. When the young porter came for our luggage, he spotted it, calling it to our attention. When we said we were leaving it, we both have read it, he beamed and said he would love to have it. That is the secondary joy of a book. Back to the point. The Gargoyle is a book my office-mate gave me. I thought it would be a tosser for sure, but no. This is a keeper for sure. I will use parts of it for my creative writing course. It is Davidson's first book. Sincerely, I hope he did not burn himself out with this one. His storytelling is imaginative, realistic, yet all through the book, you keep telling yourself this could not happen, but what if... 

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Tough Tourism Times

As I research everything for the next edition of the book, I have been surprised at how many of the luxury hotels have actually dropped their rates projected for next year and beyond. Even some restaurants have lower their higher end entrees to lower prices since the last time I reviewed them, but certainly not enough since we pay for all meals out of pocket. The Hungarian Hotel Association has continually stated that the occupancy rate for hotels has been steadily under 50%. As I make my way from hotel to hotel, marketing managers are telling me they have cause for a celebration if they book a large group at one time. The Restaurant Association had similarly grim news predicting that 30% of all restaurants in the country would close by the years end. I thought it was Hungary, but came across these two articles today in a travel site. The first talks about how it is all over Europe, tourism down, people are just not spending.

http://www.tourism-review.com/article/1748-etc-european-tourism-in-decline This one is specifically Hungary's woes. Though the link is misleading. If it were only 12, there would be no need for concern.

http://www.tourism-review.com/article/1749-hungary-welcomed-12-less-tourists

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Sydney Tourism

Going to the tour office in Sydney is a totally different experience than in Melbourne. It is located by the water, in a rustic area of restaurants and shops, but is on the second floor of a modern small mall type building. About half the size of Melbourne's tourism office, this would not be a problem. It is the organization that is a problem. Their only system for handling information is for people to form a line, no numbering, just one long line. To add insult to injury, they only had one person dispensing pearls of wisdom to a slew of people waiting, while the only other person acted as a cashier for those making purchases. Ron stood in line for twenty minutes with a list of questions, but then gave up. At one point, the sole attendant asked who just wanted New Year's Eve information and then passed out brochures of the activities. Bad news all around, we were too impatient to wait and the poor soul that had to deal with the ever growing numbers was losing her patience at a steady rate. For one of the largest cities in the world with a population of 4.1 million, and millions of tourists coming every year, this is ridiculous.

At the back of the office, there was indeed a separate booking desk to book tours, cruises, and so forth. There were two people working when we managed to figure out we needed to take a number here. Why would you have the foresight to have a numbering system in one area, but not the other. We were told that one million people come to Sydney for the New Year's Eve event alone, so they were certainly not caught unaware at the turnout.

While waiting for our number to be called, I listened to what others were booking to gather ideas. Hearing the responses from there 'agent' have me fodder for making an insightful decision when it was our turn, and in turn cutting down on the time it took us to get out of there. Our number was called by a third 'agent' who appeared on the scene. She appeared to be part of our family, so I had hopes of getting some quality service, in spite of the disgruntled look with which she started working. We told her we wanted to book the New Year's Eve cruise to which she abruptly said “We don't do that, I will give you the information, but you have to call yourself.” I immediately responded with “Your co-worker just booked a cruise for someone.” She turned to Mark, a nice looking young man who I was hoping would be helping us and asked if it were true. He politely responded that is was, they had the capability of booking the cruises in their computer. Mark had to walk her through the whole thing, but finally she was successful. We choose the Princess Cruises without knowing much about it other than we would be part of the Parade of Boats around the harbor, have dinner, be on the water for both the 9:00 and midnight fireworks displays, and return around 12:30 am. Sounded good! Okay, hand over $495 Aus each for this privilege.

We also booked the Blue Mountain tour that included a stop at a wildlife park. Sign the Mastercard slip for one, sign the Mastercard slip for the other. Thank Tammy for her services, and leave after she said the cruise company would fax our vouchers to the hotel by 5:00 pm. She printed out our vouchers for the Blue Mountain tour. We were off wandering around for about an hour when I realized I never did get a credit card receipt for the cruise, only for the tour on January 2^nd. In essence, I had charged close to $1,000 Aus and had nothing to show for it until we received the fax at the hotel four hours from now. The only time I frighten easily is when money is concerned. This was one of those times.

We walked up George Street to the Circular Quay where we had our first sighting of the Opera House and the famous bridge dubbed “God's Coat Hangar”, Sydney Harbor Bridge. Both were wow experiences from afar. In the distance, we could see people walking over the bridge. This is something that those who do not have a serious fear of heights do for the fun of it and the amazing views. For me, those views can be found on postcards. I don't need to climb into the heavens to see them for myself, thank you very much. Finding the Museum of Contemporary Art after being intrigued by the posters around the city, we discovered the exhibit of headless mannequins by Yinka Shonibare MBE. He uses wax to create bodies that he designed clothes using Nigerian folk designs on Dutch fabric, arranging them in different situations. One example was a table of ten supposedly men, sitting around a table playing poker. What one becomes aware of is the amount of information that is perceived through body language alone, without a single facial expression. No pictures were allowed, breaking my heart. I would have loved to be able to share these.

Strolling back to Hyde Park, we spent some time looking over the Archibald fountain displaying Greek mythological figures such as Diana and Apollo. On the other side of Hyde Park, there is a lovely garden and different fountain dedicated to Prince Albert, the consort to Queen Victoria. However, it also has the ANZAC memorial remembering the Australian and New Zealand men who lost their life in wars. A young man was sitting on the steps smoking a hookah, at least until the police came and disrupted his peaceful times.

By this time, it was 6:00 pm. Anxious to find a fax with our cruise vouchers, we headed back to the hotel to check with reception. No fax was waiting for us. I called the number for the cruise line that Tammy had supplied, reaching someone within three rings, surprising me due to the hour. The cordial woman said they have not sent out the faxes to anyone yet, had not promised it by 5:00 pm, but we would have it by 9:00 pm. This was nerve wracking also since the reception closes at 8:00 pm.

Noting it was out of my control, we went to Oxford Street, the gayest street this side of the equator according to the young guy who checked us into the hotel. For dinner, we chose a restaurant called La. The specials looked appealing and the prices were even more so. It was a good choice of places; we needed an extra walk after dinner and a stop at Gloria Jeans coffee before going back to check e-mails. I had to buy time at Gloria Jeans for WiFi access. No one seems to know of any free WiFi spots around the city and even those that advertise it as free, really have a service that you have to sign up with and buy time before going any farther than their own home page.

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Travel Alerts for 2009

Planning ahead, here are some changes in travel for 2009. Some only apply to US citizens, but some to others as well. Currently: ALL PERSONS traveling by air outside of the United States are required to present a passport or other valid travel document to enter or re-enter the United States. 2009: On June 1, 2009, the U.S. government will implement the full requirements of the land and sea phase of WHTI. The proposed rules require most U.S. citizens entering the United States at sea or land ports of entry to have a passport, passport card, or WHTI-compliant document. Note: The passport requirement does NOT apply to U.S. citizens traveling to or returning directly from a U.S. territory. EU Airlines: The European Parliament approved a “transparency” law mandating that airfares have to include all taxes, fees and charges added to the basic ticket price and known at the time of publication. It should take effect either later this year or at the beginning of 2009. This is meant to avoid unpleasant surprises when shopping around for a ticket within Europe or to Europe. Under the rule, airfare or air rate, taxes, airport charges and other charges, surcharges or fees, such as those related to security or fuel, have to be included in the price of the ticket. Visas going to the US: The Department of Homeland Security’s new Electronic System for Travel Authorization (ESTA) will become mandatory on January 12, 2009. It’s a fully-automated, electronic system for screening passengers before they begin travel to the United States under the Visa Waiver Program. Currently, 27 countries' citizens can travel to the US for 90 days without a Visa for tourism, but not business or work. If you need a passport, apply early. Due to the backlog, delays can be months long.

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Ryanair Cuts Budapest in November-December

Ryanair to suspend Budapest service in November-December

By: All Hungary News

2008-07-18 15:24

Ryanair has cancelled all of its 180 flights to and from Budapest during November and December, claiming that, due to the high fees charged at Ferhihegy Airport, it is more economical for the company to stay away from the Hungarian capital, writes index.hu.

According to the Irish budget airline, Ferihegy is one of the most expensive airports in Europe, a factor that gains in importance as turnover drops in the low season. The company says Hungary will lose 27,000 tourists and an income of €6 million during the two month "boycott" of the airport.

Domokos Szollár, a spokesman for Budapest Airport Zrt., which manages Ferihegy, denied Ryanair's claim of excessive costs, pointing out that the airline, which began serving Budapest less than a year ago, has enjoyed a break given to all carriers early in their presence at the airport.

He also said that Ryanair sent the same letter threatening a shutdown to every airport it flies to, demanding the right to use them for free - adding that the company probably called each of them "Europe's most expensive airport."

Szollár said that the fees at Ferihegy are 40% lower than those of the Vienna airport, 8% lower than those of the Warsaw airport and 1% lower than those in Prague.

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Jet Lagged Still

My internal alarm went off long before the mechanical one. By 3:00 am, I was awake and could not fall asleep again. I refused to sit in the bathroom to read; my only other option was relaxing and trying to coax sleep back for a few more hours. My last peek at the clock was at 5:00 am, then the next thing I knew there was an annoying noise grating on my nerves. It was the alarm clock. Ron woke long enough to ask for another hour, so I shut off the alarm not to wake again until 10:00 am.

Out the door in search of breakfast, the hotel does not provide it and doesn’t have a restaurant, we combed the streets. There are no ‘breakfast’ restaurants and all that were open were offering the same menu that services the lunch and dinner crowds. Noodles with chili are not our idea of breakfast food. Ready for the hissing session? We went to Starbucks. Yes, Malaysia has what Hungary does not, Starbucks. To top it off, they have free WiFi too in all of their locations. This will be a favorite resting place for checking e-mails and uploading the blog. We have not seen any signs for WiFi anywhere, though there are numerous Internet places. A medium latté is only $2.00 as opposed to double that in the States or even in Vienna. What a bargain.

The traffic here is incredibly congested. Walking across the street is hazardous to your survival. They do have that little green man sign that signifies it is your life opportunity to go from one corner to the next, but the vehicle drivers see this as another opportunity to pay “Hit or Miss”, completely ignoring the red light that is supposed to keep them in place. We decided we needed to explore the ‘extensive network of transportation options available. Buses are out. They are prone to the traffic jams that the cars are stuck in and movement is negligible. The doors are kept open and they are so full, passengers are straddling the steps holding on while the bus inches along in the myriad of the motoring nightmare. Motorcycles are the only modes of transport that are not inconvenience by the flow, but they weave in and out. If one attached yarn to them, they would create a most dazzling tapestry within a few blocks.

There are no subways, but they do have a subway like train that for the most part is above ground. With an insufficient number of cars, it is quickly full to capacity and the ‘beware of pickpockets’ announcement is continually repeated. We bought a day ticket for unlimited usage, but it is for this light rail train only. To use the monorail that roams parts of the city, we would have to buy another ticket or full day pass. Our day pass cost us $1.50, so we intended to get our monies worth, but first things first, we need to find a place to stay come Thursday. Ron only booked us for two nights where we are at and he refused to stay longer. The lack of a window is more than he can handle. I rather like the darkness, finding it easier to sleep.

We made our way to the tourism office at the ‘great market’, but it was closed. The sign redirected us to the main office. The great market is a huge building built in the late 1800s. today is houses crafts people and merchants to sell their wares. It is two stories with few food options upstairs. With tons of things on display, there is nothing that catches our eye as a must have item. All of the colors of the fabrics are color combinations or patterns that our Western tastes curl our noses up at.

Ron had his list of questions for the tourism people, so we headed in that direction. The central station is ultra modern, but is not for regular trains, but for the light rail and the monorail. Planning our great escape from the city, Ron asked where to spend a couple of days outside of KL, so we will leave here for two nights. We also have a 7:00 am flight coming up, so we had to find a hotel closer to good transportation. We are taking an Air Asia flight and they do not fly out of the major airport. Getting there is going to be tricky at that hour of the morning, with 2 hours ahead check-in time. He made a suggestion of a hotel across the street, so we will check it out.

On the tourism’s list of 10 top festivals in KL is one called YES Year End Sale. Apparently, this is a big event. After peppering the tourism guy with questions, we went to the KL City Center, located in the twin towers of the city. The twin towers until very recently held the distinction of being the tallest buildings in the world. This was just outdone by Taiwan. The buildings are really beautifully designed and it holds a humungous shopping center with all of the best names. Prada and Louis Viutton are there as well as every other designer name you can mention. Along side of them, there is the mandatory McDonalds, KFC, Chilis, San Francisco Coffee Company, California Pizza Company, Kenny Rogers Roasters, and the likes of every other bit of Americana imaginable. In the center courtyard is a skyscraping tree decorated for Christmas and all of the halls are decked with holly. It is seemingly incongruent to see woman strolling around with burkas or just hajib head scarves. This is not just a browsing mall; everyone is loaded down with bags. This community is affluent.

Outside the back of the mall in the twin towers courtyard, there is a large pond with a fountain reminiscent of Las Vegas. The water sprays, dances, and performs, but not as elaborately as in LV.

We looked at the hotel recommendation. The only thing it has going for it is that it has windows in the rooms. The rooms are small, but at $15.00 a night, you cannot ask for much more. I would have opted for something better, but that would only increase the transport issues for flights.

Searching for some cultural events, we had been informed by the tourism office to go to the Malaysia Cultural Center to find out what was being offered. The grounds are well appointed, but interestingly, they only offer events a few times a week. They suggested we attend the dinner show next door since it was daily there.

For dinner, we ventured back to our hotel territory and thought we were going to the restaurant where the man had been so nice to us the day before. However, we undershot his place by one outdoor restaurant and did not realize it until we had ordered. We shared satay of chicken and beef, fried rice, and vegetables in garlic sauce. The satay was not very peanuty, so this was disappointing. Sitting behind us was a real blow-heart full of himself older man who started carrying on with the Australian couple sitting next to us. I was so relieved when he said he was Canadian and not American.

Across from the restaurant is a shop that is nothing but Christmas décor. It seems so out of place is this city of primarily Muslim people. I cannot say for a fact, but I don’t think they have a Christmas tree and Santa Claus. As I was walking to the curb to walk to the door of the shop, I felt something knock into my ankle, which caused me to jump. When I looked down, I caught the last glimpse of something small and black flit under the cartons of the knock off designer watch street vendor. He looked at me and said what I think was “RAT”. I am hoping he said “CAT”. I did not see a tail, so I am not certain.

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On a Sweltering Day

I made a second list of all of the museums in Budapest after finding a list from the tourist office that had some I did not have on the original list found on the net. It is difficult to believe just how many museums there are, though some are tiny enough to fit into our living room. Thankfully so or this project would take more than my summer.

I sent out the list for the next week to the students; however, presumably, most are finally enjoying their summer vacation and this resembles school to them, so I do not expect great turnouts. Actually, if anyone shows, I will be surprised.

Today, I ventured to the Hungarian National Museum located in district VIII at Múzeum korut. Website: www.hnm.hu . It looks like a gloriously Greek inspired structure with tremendous columns built to the design of Mihály Pollack between 1837 and 1847. It was recently renovated and shines in splendor. The museum's area covers over 8000 square meters making it the largest in Hungary. Best of all, the admission is free! The got’cha is that a photo ticket is a whopping 3,000 Huf and 5,000 for video. Holy Hungarian, that is a blow to the wallet if you are a died in the wool camera buff. I slapped down the money, then thought I could do a whole lot more with that $13.50 (at today’s exchange), so I snatched it back confusing the cashier.

I have been to this museum twice before. The first time was 1998 and the second time was 2003, so I felt ‘due’ again. There are signs that the coat check is mandatory. They need to extend the definition since you are not allowed to take in a purse, back pack, shoulder bag or anything with you. It all must be checked or the guard will tackle you to the ground, scream while he is doing it, and everyone’s eyes will be on you. I keep a little padlock on my shoulder bag for such occasions and can lock my wallet in the compartment is lives in. If the lock is tampered with, it is an immediate alert as to whom the suspect happens to be. Perhaps it is living here that has had its effect, but I appreciated this museum much more today than in the past.

Each room is a period in Hungarian history, but the difference with this visit is that there is an English translation. The one problem that I encountered was the heat. A half hour into the exhibits, I started feeling sick and sweaty. If I did not sit down every 15 minutes, I know I would have been on the floor. It is beyond me how the employees can work there wearing uniforms. It was ungodly.

On that note, the second museum for the day was the Bible Museum in district IX. Ráday U. 28, Open: 10am-6pm daily except Mondays. On a side note, Budapest is doing the “Cow Parade” that originated in Switzerland years ago. This is the first year here. There are some clever ones and some really mundane examples.

This one is rather interesting given that it was a Hungarian who invented the Rubics Cube.

One thing I tend to forget here in Hungary is that the building numbering is not like the States. If you are walking past 29 on this side of the street, it does not mean that 28 is across from you. It could be a block or two away or you may have passed it. Walking on the odd side of the street in the shade, I passed the museum and had to backtrack. When I reached the place, I still was not sure it was the correct place. There was a building number with 28 on it, but it had an arrow pointing further up the street. It was the plaque that caught my eye and in the lobby that was under construction, I went. Along one wall was a glass display with bibles in different languages of the world. The most unusual were the ones in Cherokee and Yuppi, an Eskimo language, plus the world's smallest bible. This was one of the three main exhibits of the museum and I had not entered it yet.

There is no charge for this museum, but there is a box for donations. When the sole attendant realized I did not speak Hungarian, she was kind enough to lend me the book that was for sale to guide my way. The second main section is 'Archaeology and the Bible'. Basically, this goes back to Egyptian times and most of the things are replicas of artifacts. Interesting, but not bible related in my mind. The smallest section of the place was the 'History of the Bible in Hungarian'. Perusing the displays was interesting, but this was not a highlight of my day.

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