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Children grow fast, parents learn slowly. Despite several disastrous trips of the past, we still keep trying to integrate our kid into our travel culture. Our new “taking it easy, don’t plan much” strategy seems to bear the fruits, and our last trip to Arizona was mostly a success. Of course, modern technology was also very helpful in keeping all of us sane. We boarded the plane loaded with as many toys as FAA regulations would allow, and these were supplemented by some very heavy artillery – an IPad and DVD player loaded with 8GB of pirated cartoons on a spare SD card. This would be enough to keep an army of children at bay, or so we thought. However about 20 minutes after we became airborne Michelle has declared: - I want another…
- Another DVD?
- No!
- Another game? Another book?
- No, another…
- Another what?
- Another airplane! This wasn’t a good start, considering that we still had another 2 hours of flight. Fortunately we were able to resolve the conflict diplomatically, Michelle settled for a new Maisy Mouse DVD and a promise that we’ll take another airplane on our flight back home. The rest of the flight went on peacefully without much whining, thank you so much Maisy Mouse! Now, that we already have some parenting experience, we know that the key to surviving the trip with a toddler is safe choice of destination. Under usual circumstances an ideal trip for me would always involve some sort of hardship and risk for life and limb… but after a couple of earlier trips with Michelle, I had to give up these immature ideas. The conventional wisdom says that the only place one can safely travel with a toddler and sort of enjoy it is all-inclusive resort. Unfortunately most of such resorts are in Caribbean, a very long flight from Seattle, and besides, we are not fans of all-inclusive travel (see my older post: Возвращение Всезнайки с Острова Дураков )  So after some good thinking, but also due to some good luck, we’ve stumbled upon another category of toddler-friendly destinations – resorts for elderly golfers. Not that all golfers are elderly, many can still move around bipedally, without requiring a golf cart, but for some reason in my mind this sport always linked to old age. Perhaps there is some truth to this impression, as there always seems to be a luxury retirement community around finer golf courses, and the only advertisements played on local TV are for medications and cosmetic surgery…
So it turns out that there are some very fine resorts catered to golfer crowd, and some of them also have great activities for children, to keep them off the grass. Usually expensive, these resorts also have some slow periods when they offer substantial discounts – making them actually less expensive than Caribbean islands. Also, unlike with islands, one is not confined to a single beach – renting a car allows access to a number of other local attractions.  The destination of this trip was a super-luxury Grand Arizona Resort in the middle of Phoenix, place that contains it’s own Water Park! Complete with a life-size artificial beach, life-size artificial river with artificial whitewater, life-size artificial rocks and natural larger than life palms – it’s an attraction on it’s own.
You can spend entire days frolicking in artificial waves, if the whether permits. Usually weather does permit – normally Phoenix is quite hot, and has something like 500 sunny days per year… but on the day of our arrival the planet entered the cold spell. Temperatures dropped to –30 in Moscow, San Francisco saw the first snow in 35 years, and Phoenix had the most unusual15 degree (Celsius) weather with winds and occasional rains – a bit too cold for enjoying the beach. On the very first rainy morning I went to the waterpark anyway, just for a tour, and I had notes from the tour and subsequent adventures scribbled in Russian: В воде резвилось толжко несколько сумашедших детей, очевидно сирот – не могу предствить что их отпустили поплавать родители. Свысока, с вышек за ними наблюдало несколько десятков нахохлившихся спасателей, все как один завернутые в свитера, с нахлобученными на глаза капюшонами. По их сьежившимся позам было очевидно что прыгать в воду спасать детей сегодня им не хотелось. Ну что ж, сделаем из лимонов лимонад. Нежаркий день в Финиксе – отличная возможность посетить местные достопримечательности, например зоопарк - один из лучших в стране. Но сначала необходимо заручится согласием ребенка: - Мишель, пойдем в зоопарк?
- Нет!
- Мы там увидим слона!
- Нет!
- Жирафа!
- Нет!
- Обезьяну?
- Нет!
- Кошку?
- Да! Да! Чтобы успешно договориться с ребенком нужно увидеть мир его глазами, для нее кошка не менее экзотична чем жираф.  Зоопарк в Финиксе действительно отличный, жилищным условиям местных зверей можно толко позавидовать. Среди многих особенностей парка меня особенно порадовала оригинальность решения разместить клетку с попугаем напротив клетки с обезьянами. Попугай попугайничал, подражая крикам обезьян, обезьяны обезьяничали раскачиваясь на ветках как попугаи, и у тех и у других был бесконечный источник развлечений.
Холодня погода продержалась еще несколко дней и мы продолжали наши экскурсии по городу. Финик размазан по огромному пространству, и пространство это крайне однородно и однообразно. В каком бы направлении мы не отъезжали от нашей гостиницы, на север, юг, запад или восток, окружающий пейзаж не менялся. Все те же самые одноэтажные дома, стандартные магазины, заправки и все эти островки жизни соединены широченными дорогами, нередко в 10-12 полос. Над этим одноэтажным однообразием кое-где возвышаются небоскребы, такие же гигантские и одинокие как пустыные кактусы... нет пожалуй все-таки повыше кактусов. Я обнаружил что эти редкие небоскребы очень удобно использовать как ориентиры. Вместо того чтоб какждый раз сверятся с GPS на телефоне, можно запреметить какой нибудь небоскреб на горизонте и держать на него курс, не боясь заблудится. Так как пейзаж не меняется, в каком бы направлении не ехать, то невозможно сказать приближаешься ли ты к центру этого мегаполиса или наоборот от него отдаляешься. Так что до центра Финикса мы так и не добрались, оставили это приключение на следующий раз.  Зато мы побывали на ковбойском шоу и сходили в ботанический сад - это такое место где можно посмотреть как красиво бы выглядела окружающая Финикс пустыня если бы там было много воды и тени. Меня особенно поразило что в бот. саду кактусы растут под специальными навесами для тени. Кто бы мог подумать, что кактусам в местном климате слишком жарко... и действительно, в дикой пустыне они растут редко и неохотно. А вот люди, непонятно почему считающие себя разумными существами, выбрали эту местность для жилья. Напрашиваются выводы о сравнительном интеллекте людей и кактусов...
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These are actually cute!
http://www.guidehorse.org/news_minis_fly.htm
I also liked the following quote, even though it's probably a typo:
Pigs are very smart are sometimes used as service animals... The New York City Transit Authority has passenger who travels as a service pig. |
As usually, my recent flight to New York has been an event worthy of an entry in my rarely updated blog. As I've done already a few times, we were traveling as extended family: Zara, myself, baby Michelle and the dog Athena. The trip was part of Microsoft’s generous relocation incentive, they assume that new employees would occasionally become home sick and add few extra roundtrip tickets to the impressive benefits package… You can hate Microsoft’s products, and justifiably so, but it’s certainly a great company to work for!
Unfortunately Microsoft’s generosity doesn’t extend to the members of extended family, and our dog, who btw, suffered the same hardships of relocation as the rest of us, if not more, yet she wasn’t entitled to the same benefits. For taking pet aboard airlines charge whooping $300 per roundtrip, that’s actually more than the cost of our adult tickets. Per pound of weight, and our dog is only 8-9 pounds, airline makes more money on pets than on first class passengers! Yet there is absolutely no appreciation – not only dog doesn’t get personal seat (as I’ve seen on some buses in Russia), she doesn’t even get a meal, not even a cookie. What’s worse, she supposed to spend the entire duration of the flight in tiny 'airline approved' bag, stuffed under the seat. If you visualize yourself being locked in a coffin-size cage, 20,000 feet above ground, for about 5-6 hours, you’ll easily understand that dogs can’t be particularly happy with this arrangement.
So quite naturally, about 45 minutes into the flight, Athena has voiced her displeasure with rather loud bark. We promptly took her out of the bag, so she could at least look in the window, if not stick her head out. This is when the story really starts.
Few minutes after the dog was out, flight attendant has passed by and mentioned that according to FAA rules the dog supposed to be enclosed in the bag, under the seat for the entire duration of the flight:
- Do you understand that?
I replied in most serious tone:
- Yes, Ma-am, I totally understand. But the dog doesn’t. She really doesn’t want to seat in the bag.
Nevertheless, despite my personal agreement with the rules, flight attendant continued to quote them to me non-stop in rather repetitive manner. So after listening to the same quote for about 4-5 times I had to give up and agreed to put poor animal back into the bag. The dog was scrambling out for her dear life, I never seen her more terrified. I actually wouldn’t be able to put her in the bag myself, if the attendant hasn't actually helped to shove her in. The dog immediately went bananas, waking up Michelle, Michelle started to whine, people in front and back started complaining, but flight attendant left very satisfied with the accomplished result. Well, she had her seat in the other end of the plane, but I had a hysterically barking dog right on my lap, and crying baby in the seat immediately to the right and I could take it only for few minutes. So few minutes later I mentally sent FAA (http://www.faa.gov/), Delta, Flight Attendants several warm 4-letter wishes, and let the dog out. Athena immediately calmed down and curled next to Zara’s lap. Baby calmed down as well, and everybody suddenly became happy. I even made an honest attempt to make flight attendant happy, for the sake of conspiracy I covered a dog with my jacket…
But this damn flight attendant was on a mission, apparently missing all the barking and crying, she went to investigate and discovered that the dog’s tail is sticking from under the jacket. Once again we had a lecture about FAA rules, followed by ultimatum that if we don’t put the dog in the bag, the plane will be diverted “and all passengers will be pissed at you”. I thought this was a great joke, even though not funny. Nevertheless I complied once again and put frantically resisting animal back into the bag. The results were the same, dog started barking hysterically, baby woke up and started crying, passengers started complaining… There was actually some truth in what Flight Attendant was saying, some of the passengers were actually pissed at us, like if we were making the dog bark! I think in psychology there is a special diagnosis for this sort of idiocy, it’s called Stockholm Syndrome (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_syndrome), hostages taking side of their captors. To mankind’s credit, not all passengers were Stockholm nuts, in private some actually expressed lot’s of sympathy… Not that it helped with barking though…
Anyway, the flight was 6 hours long, and I’ll shorten the story a bit. Every time we took the dog out of the bag, things would get wonderfully quiet, for a few minutes but then flight attendant would appear and we’d have to listen to a high-pitched lecture about FAA rules. Once we put dog in the bag, we’ll have hysterical barking and crying… After few attempts we decided that screaming flight attendant is lesser of two evils and refused to do anything about the dog being out. Then this bitch, and I don’t mean our Yorkie, went for reinforcements. In few minutes another flight attendant informed us that this Yorkie situation was reported to the captain, who apparently wasn’t busy enough flying the plane. Supposedly captain has considered the gravity of the situation and issued the following ultimatum: if in 5 minutes the Yorkie is not in the bag, he’ll be contacting FBI to meet us in JFK. “Because you are violating FAA rules while flying interstate, it’s out of jurisdiction of local police, FBI needs to be involved”, as we were explained. I admit that part of me really wanted to see what FBI is going to do about dog’s tail sticking from under the jacket – I am sure this would make a great travel story. However the rational part of me considered the possibility that all of us, including the dog, will be sent to Guantanamo were we’ll be held incommunicado, so the story would never come out. Nothing in my past experience made me believe that people responsible for aviation security possess either common sense or sense of humor, and therefore the rational part of the brain prevailed. I squeezed poor Athena back into the bag and the remaining 4 hours of the flight was an experience from Hell. The dog was barking non-stop, jumping around her tiny jail, trying to squeeze out through every opening, the baby was crying, Zara was crying as well… I was starring in the seat in front, thinking that it will be a very long time before I fly again, if ever. The image of myself walking across continent as Forrest Gump suddenly started to look very appealing.
However if I were a mentally challenged person like Forrest Gump, I'd actually be able to travel by air in much better comfort than normal people can afford. The FAA rules, in which I am now an expert, allow crazy people to travel with pets on their laps. Well, the rules don’t really use word “crazy”, in gov-speak it’s called “passengers with mental disabilities”. The presumption is that Yorkies and other dogs, which according to FAA rules are a threat to air safety, suddenly become less dangerous if accompanied by a crazy owner. How crazy one can be to enjoy this right? Make your own conclusions, considering that the rules specifically mention monkeys, small pigs and miniature horses(!!!) that mentally disabled people can take onboard. See the official document if interested in more details: http://airconsumer.dot.gov/rules/20030509.doc
As it’s been observed by Orwell, all people are equal, but some are more equal than others. In Russia, from the times of Peter the Great, it’s the foreigners who were the privileged cast. I remember reading that one of the Russian XIX century military heroes (general Ermolov, if memory serves me right), when asked how he can be rewarded for his services to the crown, replied to Tsar that he wants to be promoted to become German. Maybe Ermolov’s story is not true, but it’s indisputable that here in USA, there is no higher honor than being declared mentally disabled. Not only it gives you instant acceptance to the gov-t jobs, particularly at FAA, where you can immediately start writing regulations on miniature horses, but you can fly with one too! |
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Over the last few days, we followed more or less the path of captain Cook he’s taken over 200 years ago. Unlike our predecessor though we had no interesting shipwrecking experiences and neither any culinary encounters with the aborigines. From Sydney we traced the eastern outline of the continent weaving in and out through the holes in Great Barrier Reef. In this manner we got almost to the north-easternmost tip of the continent, Cape York, but by then the ship’s cafeteria started to run out of food, so we turned back. During this voyage, few times we’ve got to walk on land, and thus I’ve got some exposure to Queensland, part of Australia not yet sufficiently covered by the talented Bill Bryson’s book. Bryson does mention Queensland quite a few times, but usually in the context of anecdotes about people killed by sharks or alligators. Today I’ll try to provide you with more practical review. First and foremost, in December Queensland very hot and humid. Captain Cook, made a better choice by visiting this coast in winter months of June-July, and then he promptly left, evidently preferring to be killed and possibly eaten in Hawaii, rather than hang around in Queensland throughout hot season. Second observation: ship as large as ours has a major design flaw – it can’t fit in most f the ports. Usually the closest it can get to shore is about 1 mile. From there all further communications with the land happen by means of smaller boats, a process so slow and tedious that it can only be compared to crossing the desert on camels. Imagine a line of 3000 passengers, many with canes and walkers, climbing into smaller boats in a single file – I think this should give you an idea. And now consider that the same process repeats on the way back. And this is still not the whole story… When you finally touch the ground, you’ll usually find that instead of landing in some kind of tourist paradise, you’ve been brought to a forsaken harbour many miles away from the nearest souvenir stand. There is not even a taxi that can connect you with the inhabited world, you’d have to take a chartered bus to get to places of any interest. To the credit of the cruise management, they do provide buses, albeit at cut-throat prices, far more than a taxi would cost… of course if there were any taxis. As the line of passengers slowly loads in the boats, there is a customs officer who checks every bag, it's strictly forbidden to bring any of the ship's delicacies onshore,cooked or uncooked. Supposedly it’s done for the sake of protecting the environment, although from all the reading I’ve done on the subject, I’ve got the impression that all forms of life capable of surviving in this climate were already brought in, al the damage has been already done. Not to mention that the customs process seems to be very ineffective. Despite our best effort to comply with Australia’s laws, later on we would invariably find that we unwittingly smuggled in some dangerous items, i.e. a packet of nuts, few raisins, bread crumbs, etc. I think that this customs procedure serves the same process as security in the airports, a “feel good” gesture, so nobody can say that the Government doesn’t care. The advantage over the airport security however is that the process is a) much faster b) done by a sniffing dog, a creature with much better sense of humor than a typical TSA employee. When one of these dogs tried to sniff Michelle, she lost no time in grabbing tail-wagging officer by the ear, and then both looked tremendously pleased with the incident. Now try this at airport, grab security guy by the ear… and I think you’ll miss your flight. Third observation: all towns along the Queensland coast were established to serve the needs of gold diggers, during Australia’s gold rush. After the last gold nugget has been removed about 100 years ago, the only reason these towns still exist is because of the tourists. Yet in Australia, 100 years doesn’t seem long enough to build acceptable tourist infrastructure. Imagine 11-store ship, big as an island, with 3000 rich passengers onboard, approaching a tiny town of far lesser size. Wouldn’t you expect a sort of hero welcome? Ok, maybe not an orchestra, but at least a couple of taxis? When you eventually get into town and stumble upon a tourist outlet, you find out that all morning tours have already left, and afternoon tours are not available to you because they return to port only after your cruise ship already leaves. Honestly I don’t quite understand why whoever runs this tour business can’t be more flexible with the schedule, at least on those infrequent day when ship with 3000 arrives. In the few hours that cruise passengers got to spend on land, the choice of things to do is rather underwhelming. Curiously, there are far more agencies that would sell you trips to the opposite corners of the continent, than those which sell trips to Great Barrier Reef, which is only 30 miles away. Also, local tours always seem to be overpriced, by comparing the advertisements in the flyers, sometimes it seems it’s cheaper to fly to the far end of the Universe, than take a bus trip around town. Now a quick tourbook-style review of the places we've visited. Hamilton Island
This is a tourist trap, in almost literal sense of the word, getting out of there is much more difficult than getting in.
The only place worth attention was a very mediocre beach and few hotel pools with swim-in bars. You have to pay for the convenience though, it’s $4 per small bottle of water... the price of beer I was afraid to ask. When we arrived, I was mislead by the scale-less map and went to rent a buggy - an electric car, which manages to stink far more than the ones powered by gas, a surprising engineering achievement. After quick drive around the island, however, I discovered that the place where I walked to rent this buggy was about the furthermost point. Of other attractions, I should note a sculpture of a giant figa (kukish)! I think this is the most appropriate symbol for Hamilton island. (P.S. after reviewing my photos, I have to admit that the views there are quite beautiful, it’s a pity there seem to be so little to do, besides enjoying the landscape) Brisbane
It was quite unexpected to discover that some cities in Australia do not have a beach. Rather weird circumstance in b country where there are more miles of coastal sand than there are people. In recent times Brisbanites tried to correct the original planning oversight and built an artificial beach in the middle of the city. As far as artificial beaches go it’s very nice, and I mean it. I just hope that nobody pees in the artificial ocean like they would in natural one. It would be hard to clean.
Among other attraction, I should mention very pleasant city center. It was however impossibly crowded, more than Manhattan (that’s why I said “impossibly crowded”). It was also very hot… that’s why we spent most of the time eating ice cream on artificial beach. The ice cream was delicious! Cairns
Another Australian city that doesn’t have a beach. Instead there is an artificial lagoon (I see a pattern here). As far as artificial lagoons go, I think it’s the best I’ve seen, quite nice indeed, but I was still concerned about people peeing in it. Cairns is advertised as the best place from where you can explore Great Barrier Reef. However for reasons explained earlier, we didn't have time for any tours. We spent most of our time there hanging around lagoon and had ice cream. Port Douglas
Not sure whether this port is also a city, but harbour there is excellent, with countless shops and inexpensive Internet, it has more signs of life than I’ve seen at any of our landing spots. The main attraction however is a zoo located somewhere on outskirts, called Rainforest Habitat. It's small in size, but beautifully landscaped and has more animals than you can pet. The main attraction is that it's actually a combination of zoo and safari, there are sections of the zoo where animals are roaming free and visitors are actually encouraged to feed them (inexpensive animal feed sold separately). So, if you ever fancied to befriend kangaroos - this is the place to visit, they'll be all over you, as well as scores of other, less interesting beasts. The crocodiles however are kept in different enclosure. The largest one had obviously fresh blood on his snout, but I couldn't determine whether it was from a tourist or some unlucky kangaroo. Another attraction in this zoo is so called "Breakfast with Birds" or "Lunch with Birds" if you came late. The idea is that you eat from the same plate with other rainforest creatures. To my surprise however, very few birds showed up for the feast. And then there was an employee who was periodically shooing away those few birds who showed remote interest. I thought this was defeating the objective... But on the other hand, lunch there isn't bad even if you have it all for yourself, and it’s very reasonably priced. Cooktown
This place has a beach, but warning signs about huge estuarial crocodiles discouraged us from swimming.
Upon arriving on a smallish wooden pier, first thing we saw was a large mango tree, and below a bright painted sign: "Welcometo Cooktown", I preserve the original spacing. Under the sign we received a free map, according to which there are at least few streets in the city, however we only found one. Walking along this street, soon we came upon another rather weathered sign that said that about 100 years ago, Cooktown was the largest port in Queensland, or one of the largest... In either case it isn't much. Whoever called this place a "town" made a gross overstatement. Most likely this place wouldn't be on the map at all, if captain Cook hasn't shipwrecked there about 240 years ago. He spent few weeks on the beach, fixing the ship and couldn't wait to leave and go to Hawaii. There are numerous monuments in town commemorating these unfortunate circumstances. Australians seem to be obsessed with anything related to Cook – he’s Australian Columbus.
In any case, Cook left the future location of Cooktown as soon as he could, a point obviously missed by current residents. Amazingly, walking along the only street, I spotted two real estate agencies, one of them was 2 stores high, towering over the rest of the city. The business must have been slow for them, in fact there were quite a few vacant lots along the main street. It seems that in 200+ years after Cook’s departure few people found this place desirable.
I did however enjoyed my short stay in Cooktown to the maximum extent the circumstances allowed. Of all the places where to get shipwrecked, this probably is the best - ripe mangos hang of the trees, there are fresh juicy crocodiles in the river, and best of all, in local convenience store bananas are free! My favorite attraction however is an ancient canon proudly displayed near the only pier. The sign next to it explains that in 1885, residents of Cooktown sent a request to provincial government in Brisbane to provide them with "competent officer and ammunition to defend against Russian invasion"! The officials in Brisbane considered the strategic importance of the mango tree and provided town with weaponry that in my opinion perfectly matched the gravity of the threat: one officer (as requested), 2 rifles, and a canon (circa 1803) with 3 canon balls... I am not making this up. If you don't believe me, come to Cooktown and see this first ever Cold War artifact for yourself! Even though the original canonballs are not on display, you can still see a good life-like depiction of each of the three on the sign. |
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I don't think it would be worthwhile for me to write detailed notes about Australia, this ground has been already extensively covered by many other writers, of which I particularly recommend Bill Bryson. His books are deliciously smart and funny - very much like my book would be if I ever written one. Bill however has the advantage of being a native speaker, so he makes fewer grammar mistakes. Other notable writers who visited Australia are Charles Darwin and Mark Twain, I am sure that whatever they wrote about this country is also very funny or at least profound, but their observations might be a bit outdated to serve as source of practical advice. Fortunately you don't need great deal of advice to visit Australia, you can come here completely unprepared and all you'll find is just a modern country similar to any other in the developed world.
The only upside-down things here are garlands of giant bats that hang of the branches in the Royal Botanic Gardens - a huge park in the middle of Sydney. In all other respect Sydney is very similar to some US cities, i.e. Miami - warm, by the ocean, people drive on the wrong side of the road and don't speak English. Which language they speak is hard to determine because almost everybody tries to sound like an Australian and some are so good at imitating the accent that we can't understand a word. The reason I think that they are faking the accent is that I can't imagine anybody talking so funny without doing it on purpose.
Our friends from down here recommended us a hotel by the beach, but when I called to make reservations, Saturday night stay has been already booked 2 weeks in advance! Not only in this hotel, but in all other hotels in this neighborhood. So, the first impression I've got is that Australia is ill-suited for independent travelers. I don't see how the spontaneity and flexibility, the main benefits of independent travel can be achieved if hotel stays have to be planned weeks in advance.
My second impression of Australia is that it's not a baby-friendly country, and I am still waiting to be persuaded otherwise. I've already mentioned in previous story that Qantas charged us $500 to take baby on board, and similar unpleasant surprise happened again when I was making hotel reservations. As soon as I mentioned that we'll be travelling with an infant, hotel staff refused to give us the room that I've almost booked and insisted instead that we take a larger room for double the price. With this kind of baby surcharge it's no wonder they have low birth rate!
In the end I just booked a near-random hotel through Expedia, and this turned out as a very good choice.
This near-random hotel, happened to be a studio apartment located right in the middle of Sydney's backpackers district, with all the nice ramifications. The streets were lined with cafes, travel agencies, internet places, and curiously enough, excellent bakeries - selling the kind of stuff that would measure favorably even against what we've sampled in Paris and Rome. But these benefits of location were just the start, as soon as the night settled it became apparent that backpackers district is immediately adjacent to Sydney's red-light and entertainment district. The place was quite alive even during the day, but it's the night when it really blossoms: the countless bars open up and get filled with young happy crowd, people dress to impress, and I mean everybody, not only the transvestites. Of other things I was most pleasantly impressed with the shortness of women's dresses, yet another thing I liked about Sydney.
Overall it was heaps of fun, as Australians would say, it's too bad that Michelle didn't want to stay up all night.
The rest of the crowd though celebrated till morning, I mean it literally. When we took a walk at 8am the following morning, some people were still sipping drinks.
Yet another thing I liked about Sydney is a street sign I noticed same morning: "No alcohol north of here", signifying the end of the entertainment area. Later I saw similar signs on other streets. Apparently that's how people of different alcohol orientations manage to peacefully co-exist in the same city. The rules are street-specific, i.e. you don't need to fly all the way to godless New Orlean to enjoy beer on Sunday morning. We spent in Sydney few days, not enough time to explore this huge city, but enough to start feeling its good vibes. We plan to return to Sydney for few more days at the end of our trip and see few more attractions. In meanwhile we boarded a cruise ship heading to Great Barrier Reef. This ship is basically a huge upscale resort, the whole city of bars, restaurants, shops and art galleries, but the kind of city that can traverse oceans at 25 knots. Perhaps that's the reason this kind of resort caters mostly to people who have difficulty moving on their own. With Michelle onboard the average age of passengers has dropped to just over 70. Obviously, I'd have preferred to travel with younger crowd, but according to Zara we had little choice. As she explained to me, with little babies there are only 2 ways to travel, either all-inclusive resort or cruise. And when it comes to babies, Zara is authoritive source of information - she's simply always right, it's no use to argue. What's interesting is that this luxury cruise with continuous flow of gourmet food and entertainment also seemed to be a budget option to travel! The promotional rate was seductively low, for same 11 nights on land we'd probably pay as much just for the hotel. However this sale was a bait, as soon as I mentioned baby, the rate has nearly doubled. You see, the rate was for double occupancy, and there was no way they would give same rate to 2.5 people. Not only Michelle was charged as a full grown-up person, we also were forced to get a larger room, not covered by promotion. In the end Michelle's ride would cost us almost as much as ride for 2 additional adults! We spent quite a bit of time on the phone, trying to convince so called customer service to give us a break: -We are good customers: we drink, we gamble, we buy jewelry..
-Sorry, the only discounts we have are for seniors
-But babies are much more profitable than seniors, old people eat a lot! I thought Zara made very convincing arguments, but all to no avail, we couldn't get through to their common sense, RoyalCaribbean customer service was determined rather to have unsold rooms, than give any kind of discount to a 9 months old baby. We were on a verge of walking away... but in the end decided to swallow the pill and got on board. Now after few days on the ship I see that cruise management doesn't care how much people eat, in fact they encourage people to eat more! In the ship's gym, an establishment far smaller than any of the buffets, they have special lectures for people concerned about their health, these are the titles of the lectures: "Sit-to-be-Fit" and "Eat more to weigh less". I am not making this up, these lectures are real! Despite less than optimal demographic situation, overall, I think that cruising is not so bad. It's like a preview what life would be in my eighties (a thought I shamelessly borrowed from Bill Bryson). Although for the next few decades I have more interesting plans, cruising doesn't seem to be the worst way to spend my retirement years. |
| » The mandatory airport story |
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I am writing these notes sitting on Qantas airplane - brand new Boeing 747. In front of me is a built-in infant crib, the seats are comfy, my personal in-seat TV comes with free movies and the staff is super-attentive: offering us baby bottles, extension seatbelts and a bunch of helpful tips (a heap of tips, as Australians would say)
Suddenly, the 20-hour flight ahead of us doesn't look as intimidating, and Australian hospitality seems far more charming than it felt when I was buying the tickets.
Qantas charged us 1/2 price for baby, even though Michelle hasn't got her own seat. At the time I was quite mad at airline - charging Michelle heaps of money, and not giving her anything back. Now that I see that we are getting back baby bottles and extra attention, my feelings toward airline have considerably improved.
The best thing is that JFK is already behind, and we won't be back for almost a month. The stories of the incidents that I had in this airport can fill a thick book, with a chapter on doubtful cleanness and the rest of the book dedicated to employees. JFK employees are very special people, sometimes I think that JFK specifically recruits those unfortunate souls who passed meanness entrance test to Hell, but failed in Math. These are ideal qualifications, considering that their only job is to remind passengers that New York is a city with an attitude. On Zara's previous arrival in October, as she was renting a car, the employees at airport counter refused to help her to install baby's car seat. "We are not allowed, it's against company policy". I suppose the company policy is to seat back and enjoy the circus act of woman trying to install car seat with one hand, while balancing a screaming baby in another. There are always people who think that allusion to "company policy" is an acceptable and proper excuse for jerk-like behavior. However outside of New York airport I don’t meet such people every time, i.e. in similar situation in Seattle, employees of the same rental company not only fixed the baby seat for us, but actually volunteered to do so. Of course I all but forgotten this trivial incident, and countless others, but our most recent arrival few days ago was awaken all these dormant layers of bad memories... Upon getting off the plane we boldly followed the signs to the luggage pick up area... which lead us to outside exit...
-Where is the elevator?
-It's outside
We stopped for a second to reflect on the genius of the building's architect, but more on the fact that baby Michelle is quite undressed to be taken into New York's winter. Her warm clothes btw were neatly in the luggage that we unwittingly planned to pick up BEFORE leaving the airport.
-Ok, Zara said, I'll take stairs. (Stairs were conveniently located inside the building)
-Oh, no, said security, you can't do that, because you've just passed the imaginary line of "no return". Only departing passengers can cross this line in another direction.
A long argument ensued after which security relented and let Zara back in, but she had to go once again though the security procedures, including the sacred ritual of taking off shoes. So the story actually had happy ending, except that Michelle has been woken up. It turned out to be impossible to take shoes off without waking up baby sleeping in your arms, Well, I can understand that security people are trained to suspect that woman with an infant sleeping in her arms might be a terrorist... but couldn't they simply escort her about 50 feet back to the stairs, just to make sure she won't take any hostages on a way? After all if Zara meant to cause any damage with her sneakers, like launch them at low flying planes, she had plenty of opportunities to do so just before she crossed the imaginary "no return" line...
...
The positive side of our bad experiences at New York, is that we can better appreciate our arrival to Australia. Sydney airport is clean and modern, the immigration and customs people are friendly, the lines are short, the luggage carts are free, the bathrooms are clean, there are even showers! To top it off, there are free Internet kiosks, so arriving passengers can send a quick message. It feels great to be back in civilized place. Besides, now I can understand why Qantas charged us $500 for Michelle, apparently tiny babies can generate heaps of mess. After Michelle played with their Boeing, I think they'd have to replace it... The $500 that we paid probably was just the first payment, when I get back home I expect to find the bill for the reminder.
1 Дек, 2008 @ 02:22
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| » “Seattle is US Paradise” |
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The quote I put in the title belongs to Thomas, a Korean barber, people who read my earlier stories know how much material I pick in the barber shops. And Tom is another hairdresser making it into my blog, he deserved it if not for the haircut then for simultaneously performing Pugacheva’s “Million Scarlet Roses” …in Korean, visits to barbers are ever so entertaining! So, according to Tom, Seattle is Paradise because it has “beautiful views, beautiful air, beautiful people, and beautiful weather”. And the weather is so beautiful because it’s so free: “Summer is air-conditioner-free, mosquito-free, rain-free, humidity-free” and even rainy winter is great because “it’s show-free, shoveling-free, car rust-free”. I haven’t yet lived through Seattle winter, but so far I completely agree with Tom on all counts, including the weather. In 6 months that we live here, weather was great. Even now, at the end of November, we still get many sunny weekdays and weekends are particularly sunny. There are also few more things that I would like to add to Tom’s list: “beautiful houses, beautiful roads, beautiful parking spots, beautiful medicine and beautiful taxes”. Taxes are easiest to explain – neither Washington state nor Seattle have income tax. There is sales tax, about as much as we paid in New York, but that’s it, we pay to government many thousands dollars less. Despite that, it seems that we get back so much more – the roads are great, there are dozens of well maintained parks, public art everywhere, free concerts all summer, stadiums, pools, tons of activities for children, excellent libraries, hospitals, in many places we even get free WiFi. I don’t know how to resolve this paradox, i.e. lower taxes and better roads. Does New York City spend taxes on digging potholes rather then on fixing them? Perhaps. I remember few years ago, city has replaced all benches along several miles of Brighton boardwalk, replacing perfectly fine old benches with new that were no better. But the most curious thing is that before removing old benches, city has freshly repainted them. The Gov-t offices here do not occupy huge buildings in prime parts of the city, the place that issues drivers licenses can be tucked somewhere in the far corner of the mall, b-n grocery and nail salon. But they work efficiently, there are no huge lines, no security guards to keep order and the fees are much less. State employees here look and act competent and actually do some work! Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but I’ve not yet seen among them afro-americans (I can’t believe I’ve just used “AA” word!). A contrast indeed from New York, where I believe you have to be “aa” to work for the city. I am not against AA, I am against racial discrimination. It seems reasonable that in Seattle which doesn’t have many AA, few AA work for the city. However it doesn’t seem reasonable that in New York, where people of all cultures live, 9 out of 10 city employees are AA. In Newspeak it’s called “Equal Opportunity Employment”. Something is rotten there, I think. And in Seattle, even cops are nice… again, I surprise myself by saying that. In fact, at one of the events we saw cops wearing jackets which had “Law enforcement with human face”… written on the back.
We even got to experience the human face once: -Is there a reason you didn’t stop at the stop sign back there?
-Where? Oh, sorry I didn’t see it
-It’s the biggest stop sign in the state of Washington!
-Sorry, didn’t know it’s the biggest, I am out of town
-May see your license and registration? I gave him my license and started fumbling for registration, but then cop says: -Actually, never mind registration, I already checked on computer that the car is registered. Here is your license, next time be careful. Who could have thought that being stopped by a cop can be such a pleasant experience? Later on I met few more police officers – several of them attend with me Filipino Martial Arts class, fancy words that stand for stick and knife fighting. A coupe of them have very advanced rank, I am supposed to salute them with a bow, yet they very approachable and always ready to dispense helpful advice: “turn the knife sideways when striking, you don’t want it to get stuck between ribs”. Great guys, so much I can learn from them! It’s such a fun class, BTW, where else do you get a chance to hit cop with a stick? I certainly don’t know where I can do it in New York. If there was such place there would be a long line of pissed off people with sticks waiting outside, ready to take turns. And there are girls in the class as well, although one of them is a black belt, and when she hits me with the stick, IMO it’s the least interesting part of the class. The story is getting long… I’ll tell you more next time. The story is getting long, and I still have to explain Seattle’s medicine, houses and roads, stay tuned…
22 Ноя, 2008 @ 21:32
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| » Politically correct translation |
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Unexpectedly the subject of translation has came up once again, today somebody forwarded me the following screenshot. There is no photoshop involved, you can try it for yourself at: http://www.translate.ru/text_Translation.aspx 
Attempt to do reverse translation on Microsoft ‘s own site was a bit more successful, with the only glitch that Microsoft’s program doesn’t understand word “koshka”. It however had no trouble translating "afroamerikanets". Funny, there is not even such word in Russian. 
10 Ноя, 2008 @ 20:24
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| » Снова о Новоязе |
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Сегодня меня попросили перевести на английский небольшое послание, с вполне стандартными пожеланиями "здоровья, благополучия, успехов...". Ну с переводом "здоровья и успехов" я быстро справился... а вот как перевести "блогополучие" я задумался... Уместно ли пожелать кому-нибудь "welfare"? С таким переводом невинная фраза неожиданно приобрела смысл еврейского проклятия. Интересно получилось: стоило государству, в своем неуемном желании творить добро, повзаимстовать слово для социальных програм, как значение сменилось на противоположное, благополучие превратилось в бедность.
Конечно, сразу же вспомнились министерства из бессмертного 1984, иронично названные: Мира, Любви, Правды и Изобилия, соответственно ответственные за Войну, Пытки, Ложь и "Отсутсвие Всего". Поразмыслив над этим парадохом, я вдруг осознал, что многие нынешние, реальные министерства, названы с той же самой Оруелловской иронией: Департмент оф Дефенс - бомбит недо-демократические страны.
Департмент оф Иммиграйшн - занимается непущанием и депортацией иммигрантов
Гос. Сокровищница (Treasury) - "хранит" только умопомрачительный долг Интересно было бы продолжить этот список, как-нибудь на досуге я узнаю какие еще бывают гос.конторы и чем приблизительно они занимаются. А пока я перевел "благополучие" как "prosperity", пока вроде бы такого министерства нет и надеюсь что и не будет.
7 Ноя, 2008 @ 23:19
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| » "Vacation" in New York and safe air travel |
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I am still recovering from one week spent New York, which was anything but relaxing. I can't point a finger on what exactly makes the city so tiring, but the fact is that trip to New York is always an anti-vacation, something that calls for therapy after you return. Of course, it was nice to meet the family and friends, I just wish that they all live in the same little village, so I won't need to spend so much time traveling b/n them on subways.
Well fortunately I am back in Seattle, trip to New York made me appreciate our current place of residence even more than ever before. Some day I'll tell you about it in more details, yes, I know that I've already promised it six months ago.
Today however I'd like to tell you about a tiny incident that happened to us in JFK Airport. The cause of the incident was a bottle of water in our carry-on luggage. Apparently there was a change in law, and now passengers with infants are allowed to bring this dangerous object on board. In fact we were able to fly with a bottle from Seattle to JFK. On our return trip however, vigilant TSA guys have spotted this weapon right away. When Zara protested, saying that current law allows bottled water for infants, the guy in charge made an insightful comment:
"It depends on what kind of water".
-"It's Poland Spring"
After that he examined the bottle further and made an additional comment that it doesn't say on a sticker that it contains fluoride... Well, I'd be rather surprised to see fluoride enhanced water coming from the springs, wouldn't it completely undermine the reason why people buy bottled water? Anyway, at this point we just shrugged shoulders and moved on. Experience taught us not to argue with security people, being intellectually un-gifted is a prerequisite for their all important job.
The punch line to the story is that back home in Seattle, when unpacking my carry-on backpack, I discovered a pocket knife with a 5-inch blade, a scary looking weapon. I think it stayed in my backpack since one of the trips to National Parks, where I took it for the purpose of fighting off bears. Unlike water, the knife has traveled with me undetected both ways from Seattle to New York and back.
Well, this once again confirms my long standing assertion that despite all security measures a) air travel is no safer today than it was pre 9/11 b) the job of TSA and the purpose of security regulations is convincing Joes and Janes of the world that flying is safe, not actually making it any safer. If actual safety was a real objective, they would have started by hiring smarter people for the job.
23 Окт, 2008 @ 07:39
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