Say Cheese and Then Go to the Dogs

In one of the Gringo newsletters, we heard there was a man

who sells cheese and sausage on Saturdays from 9am to 1pm. If you do not catch him during this time, your are out of luck. Varieties of cheese in the supermarkets here, lack a certain enticement; it is the same with the cheeses in Hungary. You have to search for something better than pedestrian.

Getting off the bus by the University of Cuenca, we took a short stroll around the campus after a large ceramic piece

caught our eyes.  What a beautiful university this is. Each of the buildings are different in architectural style, walking the stunningly maintained grounds was a pleasure, and at this time, there are few students around. It must be between semesters or summer break. Part of me thought about sending in a C.V. and the other part of me said, “No, you have left teaching.” Only time will see which side wins out. That is not to say that they have an opening even if I did apply.

Back on track, we found our Gringo, who actually is from Sorrento, Italy. He was chatting with two other Italians.

Business was not hopping. We tasted three of his cheeses and bought small portions of two of them. They were expensive, but they are quality products. My mouth was watering for sausage, but the sausage was more like salami. Dried, not fresh Italian sausage, we left it. We said we would be around until the end of the month, so we may be back for refills. He shyly posed for a picture. Say, “I sell CHEESE!”

Close to his location, according to the tourism map, is a museum of archeology. We looked for it, but a number of the roads in this area are under construction. We walked about 10 blocks in various directions, obviously being in residential areas, not commercial. We asked a multitude of people where the museum was located. Not a single person had a clue even when shown the map. We found the cross streets where it is supposed to be according to the map, but there was nothing there. We hunted and

searched. We found a number of adorable dogs, but no museum.

Finally, we found ourselves back at the University of Cuenca, but at a different entrance than before. Ron asked the guard if he knew where the museum was located. By this point, we had hunted for an hour with no luck. Still, the guard was clueless as was the second guard who joined him. Just as we were about to call it quits, a few students passed by leaving the campus. Ron asked if anyone of them spoke English. Three young men shoved a young woman forward. Again, Ron asked, “Do you know where the Museo Arquelógico Universitario is located?” Suddenly, the three men found their voice. They said in unison it is over there as they turned to the left and pointed in the distance. It was a large white building at the back of the campus. With much gratitude expressed, we headed in that direction.

The guard felt obligated for some reason to escort us part of the way. Perhaps he felt responsible for strangers on the campus. We followed trails, walked through a construction

section, and finally arrived at the building. Cerrado! Closed! There were no signs stating the hours. Only one sheet was near the door dating back to 2002. The gate nearby was on the exact street that we walked by on more than once. However, all signage is on the side of the building. The street side is a blank slate of white. There would not have been any identifier as we passed. Even if there were, we would still have had to walk blocks and blocks to get close to the building. It would not have been evident from the street that the museum was closed.

Still, we were able to see more of the campus. The swimming pool and gym are open to the public. The campus is even more stunning when you really walk through it. There are three cafeterias spread around, so snacks or meals are never too far away.

Leaving the riverside to get back to the Mercado, one has to climb stairs. This particular staircase has 99 stairs.

Thankfully, there are breaks, so I stopped presumably to take photos, when in fact, I was getting my breath.

After a stop at the Mercado for chicken and some fruits, we were on the bus for home once again. We were a little shocked at the price of chicken breasts. Two healthy sized breasts came to $8. This is cheaper than the SuperMaxi, but still rather high. Ground beef has been relatively a bargain.

This little guy is in the window of the local florist.  I really

want to take him home.

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My Sausage Was Frozen, Thawed, and Fried

If you are expecting some naughty post here, shame on you! After convincing Ron that he really needed to bring me back Italian sausage, the one food item I have not had for over six years, he did. My instructions were to deep freeze the packages, wrap them in aluminum foil, and then put them in plastic bags. Packing them in his checked luggage should have gotten them here safely. What I had not counted on was his luggage getting lost and being delivered the day after he arrived. The great sausage hunt was on. Rip open that suitcase. They were still cold or if they were a person, they would need to put on a sweater type chilly, but not even close to frozen. Googling food safety, the advice is that after two hours outside of a refrigerator, it is time to abort the mission, fail the test, give up the ghost. Six years without an Italian sausage for an Italian is like six years without insulin for a diabetic. Life is not worth living, if there is life at all. I fried all four packages; he bought a Wegman's brand of sweet and hot, Ginnelli's brand of sweet and hot, all looking so appealingly pink and tasty. Ron's solution to testing all food is the sniff test. If it does not smell bad or have mold, it is safe to eat, but I keep reminding him that botulism is odorless and tasteless. Throwing caution to the wind, I fried them getting gratification just watching them turn brown, listening to the sizzle as the fats leaked out into the hot pan, the aroma whirling into the air. I put all of the hot sausage, now cooked into a freezer container and threw those puppies into the deep freeze. Now that I have heated the baddies out of them, I am try freezing the rest to death trying to beat the odds. According to the nutritionist website, they can stay frozen after cooked for two weeks. The sweet ones are sitting in another plastic container waiting for me to build up my nerve to take that fateful bite. We had thought of having a sausage sandwich picnic in the park directly across the street from the medical clinic just to err on the side of caution, but realized that is the doggie park. Who needs the competition for my sausages?

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United Doesn't TAP to the Star Alliance

Ron had to go from Newark to Lisbon to Frankfurt to Budapest and arrived home at 8:30 PM last night. When he went to check in at Newark, it seems that United had him booked on a TAP flight that was discontinued in May. However, he did not find this out at the check-in desk until they had checked his luggage and sent it off on the belt. They had re-booked him on a flight that now had him over nighting in Lisbon, but no one had forewarned him about this. Needless to say, no one offered to pay or supply a hotel voucher either. This scheduled plane was six hours later than his originally planned flight.

When he told TAP he was never informed of these changes and due to EU rules, he knew he was entitled to be put on a different flight if there were an earlier one out of Lisbon, they said he would have to deal with United. Because this was a frequent flyer ticket, TAP was not able to make the changes. He had the good sense to ask if they were all part of the Star Alliance, why they could not do it themselves, but the TAP rep tap danced around the question, saying they could not.

He went to the United desk in a different terminal, spoke with a rep there, who said she would make the changes, but that TAP should have done this themselves since they are part of the Star Alliance, confirming Ron's thoughts. She then suggested he go back to TAP to retrieve his luggage and recheck it with United.

After returning the the original terminal where TAP is located, he asked for his luggage to be searched for, but the young man who had originally took it gave him the run-around about getting it back. After Ron pressed the issue, the young man supposedly went looking for it, but came back empty handed. Ron claims he was a bit surly about the request, so chances are the man disappeared just to say he did it when he return, but really having done nothing at all.

Ron arrived in Lisbon, had a wait and then had to fly to Frankfurt, before continuing on to Budapest.

The irony of the whole situation is that I had convinced him to bring me home some Italian sausage. I had him deep freeze it, wrap the package in aluminum foil and then in plastic bags, thinking that in the cargo hold, it would make it back partially frozen or ready to cook immediately. Also in the luggage were bagels.

In his carry-on suitcase is a new Windows Home Server, which I paid $700 for, but all of the peripherals, the cords, software, etc are in the big suitcase, along with the ten books on how to teach online and how to be a life coach. Is this a message from the universe?

Needless to say, Ron's luggage did not arrive home with him. There was another flight in last night at midnight, but the luggage was not on it. The next flight is today at 2:00.

I will be in mourning as I throw the sausage into the trash.

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