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One of my Seattle photos on Flickr has started a recent dialogue, which led me to do a quick search for the time I saw Nirvana in 1990. I was surprised to find several videos from that night on YouTube.

Nirvana was amazing. I went to the show to see Pitchfork
or was it early Drive Like Jehu. I remember John Goff playing bagpipes.

I was familiar with Nirvana’s Bleach album. I knew indie and punk rock as I have been a straight edge punk since I was 15 in one form or another. I don’t listen to hard core as much anymore, but my ipod is filled with one form of noise or another.

So Nirvana wasn’t a band that came out of nowhere for me. But they killed it that night. I was blown away by this show, it’s one of the best I’ve ever been to. People will look back and wonder why Nirvana was so pivotal. It’s the context, everything else was either hair metal or Michael Jackson in the pop world and the indie music world was still full of R.E.M. sound-alikes. Punk was in the middle of breaking apart into retro-punk and post-punk.

Nirvana grabbed the best of everything in Seattle and drove right through the middle.

Enjoy this video of Nirvana before they were a household name.

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I booked tickets for Belfast, Ireland about 2 months ago. My mind was saying Dublin while my eyes were seeing really cheap tickets to Belfast. Somehow the two didn’t fully connect until after my credit card had been charged for a weekend in Belfast. I was left thinking “So… I’m going to Belfast, that should be interesting”.

I’m enjoying my whirlwind trips around Europe. Each is giving me context for what I thought I knew about a region. Belfast, is certainly a city that needs some context to understand. As a non-Irish American, my concept of Belfast was borne from news reports of the IRA and subsequent peace accord. I thought I’d be visiting a city torn apart by the “Troubles”, looking more like Athens, with its empty destroyed buildings, than London.

Belfast actually resonated with my experiences growing up in California. Belfast is exactly the same, though totally different than Southern California. In particular:

The Food

I really didn’t have much hope for the food in Belfast. Let’s face it, fish and chips, pub grub, and boiled meats are what they are best known for. The only thing I wanted to try was real Irish Soda Bread. The rest of the meals would be… interesting.

I had probably the worst meal of the year in a neighborhood outside Belfast. I should re-phrase that. I had the worst meal of the year that I actually finished. Finished while licking my fingers to appreciate the utter horror of a meal I was… savoring?

I was on a bus going who knows where when I decided to get off at the next stop that had shops. I found a Fish and Chips stand that surprisingly had a veggie burger. I also decided to try the exotic sounding “Curry Chips”. Oh what a treasure was in store for me. I wish I could have photographed it, but I had to eat it on the street, in the freezing wind while waiting for the next bus.

The veggie burger looked good and I was really looking forward to it. I haven’t had one in a while. The first few bites were good, but I couldn’t place the patty. Finally I realized the veggie patty was a hash brown. Still, this wasn’t too bad, just a bit less than stellar.

The piece de la resistance was the heaping order of curry fries. Oh my what have I gotten myself into. Imagine big chunky fries, cooked but not crisp, with an otherworldly yellow tint. Now cover these with a “curry gravy”. I don’t know where they came up with this sauce. It was like water, corn starch, and curry powder, only greasier and with even less taste. No, that sounds too culinary. Think of a cross between curry and naval jelly. That would be more like it.

But when in Rome, act as the Romans. I was in Belfast and gosh darn it I was a fighter! I was going to show those curry fries who was boss. I shoved those fuckers into my mouth as I shivered on the sidewalk waiting for the infernal bus to arrive and return me to the hotel. I did it, I showed that yellow Styrofoam container of yellow sticks with yellow goo a thing or two.

Surprisingly, there was more yellow on the horizon.

The bus finally arrived and I had a nice journey back. It was  so nice that I missed my stop. I got off at an intersection that I recognized and walked by a pizza/turkish kabob shop. I glanced at the menu and noticed the Yellow Pages Pizza: Tomato, Cheese, Tuna, and Banana. My stomach full of curry chips did a complete somersault. Naturally I returned the next day to photograph the menu and get some cheesy chips.

The next morning I had a nice continental breakfast at the hotel and headed off for the century-old farmers market. I was expecting something larger and older, but the market was nice. There was an artist selling paintings for 30 pounds that looked somewhat interesting. However, I was on the hunt for soda bread and finally found a stand that had plain and fruity versions.

I wanted to buy some jams and sauces but they couldn’t be carried onto the plane. Check out the stands in this market for some great tasting jams, marmalade, and curry sauces.

They also had two stands serving whole roasted pigs. How is this even remotely appetizing? These deflated creatures look like a Macy’s day parade float on the morning after. Even if I ate dead animals this would be repulsive.

Comedy Show

I started Saturday with a tour of the central part of town and the docks. I stopped at the new Waterfront theater and found out there would be a private performance for a comedy show on the BBC. They couldn’t sell me a ticket but the lady suggested I return around 7 and there may be some open seats. Fortunately I returned just at 7 on the dot and sure enough an open ticket was available. I need to try this more often.

The Michael McIntyre Comedy Roadshow featured 6 comedians from around the UK, I believe most were from Ireland. I’ve never been to a stand up comedy show as I usually find them boring on the screen (except Joan Rivers, Margaret Cho, and Kathy Griffin). However, I found myself laughing much more than I expected.

At one point McIntyre was talking about salt and pepper being the leaders. All the other spices were jealous of their position on the table. He mentioned other leaders and at one point asked the audience to clap if they didn’t Google stuff; to prove Google was the “leader”. You guessed it, I was the sole person in the entire theater that started clapping. I was hoping he wouldn’t come back and ask why I don’t Google stuff.

“I work for Yahoo! and build search engines in my spare time” would have been my answer. What a pretentious answer.

I don’t use Google search. I hate how they assume I want French results when I’m located in France. Let me choose if I want local results. I also don’t use gmail for anything important, google toolbar, or google desktop search because I don’t trust them. I don’t trust what they are doing when they track your every move, document, and click. That’s just too much information.

Yahoo! collects info as well, but they are much more upfront about when they collect and share data. Who knows what Google will do in ten years when they have a complete history of your searches, emails, phone calls, friends, physical locations, etc.

The wharf

Belfast has an interesting wharf with an art walk studded with sculptures. The most intersting parts were the hidden vestiges of the life a century ago. There were two old dry docks hidden behind some large construction areas that had great structural lines. There were also two churches that were unfortunately closed. One looked like it hasn’t been open in a long time.

Sailor Town was a working class neighborhood with cheap housing and pubs for the men who worked the ships. It looked like it was a lively community. However, the city tore it into pieces to build new freeways and larger port access. This community is now a series of empty buildings, vacant lots, and some signs of rebuilding with an eye towards Yuppie condos.

This reminded me of Little Italy in San Diego. This Italian and Portuguese neighborhood was filled with tuna fishing families. The community was split into two during the construction of the large Interstate 5. The original families disappeared as the tuna fleets left San Diego. Little Italy is now a tourist area centered around the original Filippi’s pizza restaurant and surrounded by Yuppie condos.

Next to the wharf is the Cathedral Quarter. This neighborhood has been on the docket for renovation for many years. The restaurants and night spots are the only bright spot in a downtown that closes at 5 p.m. Unfortunately it is mostly upscale joints and you need to head to the outskirts to find a quick bite to eat.

The Belfast kids

How many times have you heard someone say “When I was a kid, we could roam the streets without a worry. Nowadays a rugrat can’t even play safely in their front yard”. In Belfast, the kids are given that kind of freedom and safety. Packs of roving rugrats run up and down the streets, ride the buses, play in the lots, parks, and basically make themselves a nuisance. Can you tell how much I enjoy being around kids?

To prepare for the trip I watched Henry Rollins do a spoken word performance in Belfast. He told the story of being scared of a bunch of Belfast teenagers walking towards him on the street. Rollins… scared? Give me a break. The angriest man in punk rock? Black Flag! My War! Search and Destroy! Henry Fucking Rollins was scared? I don’t believe it for a second.

But I started to see what he means. Every kid walked around like he had a chip on his shoulder. Especially when there were more than one around. I’d see the boys act as gentle as possible when with their mothers and butching it up as soon as they were away. I still don’t believe Rollins was scared. Personally I never felt threatened; more amused by the behavior.

The teenage girls need to go into a twelve-step program for makeup. Those bonny old lasses were tarted up like veteran hookers on a Sunday morning. Not to mention some really bad hair styles. It’s no wonder the little boys have chips on their shoulders.

The troubles

I won’t even begin to act as if I understand the conflict in Northern Ireland. I came to Belfast with some pre-conceived notions. I thought the IRA were the tough guys and the Protestants were more meek and hidden. That probably comes from being a protestant by birth, although I was raised agnostic and consider myself agnostic. I think of Protestants as mild-mannered folk, not very exciting, maybe even Scottish.

I was surprised to see the majority of the murals were Protestant. Further, the protestant murals were very militaristic and anti-catholic. To be fair, I looked for pro-catholic murals but couldn’t find more than a few. So there could be the equivalent set of angry murals on both sides, I just did not see them.

I met several protestants while walking through the neighborhoods. There was a strong sense of pride. They were also hesitant to give me directions towards the other side, several of them gave me directions that led me towards more protestant murals and away from the Catholic section. They even acted as if they didn’t know where they could be located.

I also came across one of the most passive-aggressive scenes I have ever seen. At first I thought it was a rubbish bon fire at the border of the protestant housing. Down the street is a tall wall separating them from the Catholic Falls section. This is the scene of many skirmishes over the years.

I didn’t realize until after I walked around the wall what the fire was doing. The entire neighborhood reeked of burning plastic, rubber, and melamine. It wasn’t strong enough to make you sick, but it was irritating.

In the Catholic section I came across the Clonard Monastery. The interior walls were covered with ornate mosaics. It was preparing for a candle-lit mass and I was torn between returning to see the mass and going to the comedy show. I usually find Catholic ceremonies to be tiring. They can be beautiful, but they’re so regimented an outsider has no idea what is going on. Still, the church must be magnificent with the candles lit. I spoke briefly to the priest. He was charming.

Next to the church is Bombay street, the scene of a fire bombing that became a turning point in the conflict. There was a somber memorial park that contrasted strongly with the previous, garish memorials I had seen in the Protestant neighborhoods.

I don’t want to sound like I’m pro-Catholic. I really don’t have a position and think that inter-religion hostility is a bunch of bull crap. Belfast’s regrowth and prosperity during the recent peace years will hopefully keep it from falling back into discord. I know I wouldn’t have made the journey 10 years ago.

I’m glad I accidentally chose Belfast over Dublin. I wouldn’t say it was a pretty city. I didn’t come back with beautiful photographs of the landscape, buildings, and such. However, it is an interesting city and you need to look beyond the big pictures and start looking at the small details. Belfast is more than the Troubles. It’s more than sectarian battles. It’s more than a city filled with pubs and an active port. It’s the people that make it fascinating, take some time to talk to the cab drivers, the people in the market, or those on the street.

(I wrote this a long time ago but forgot to hit the publish button)

I flew from Paris to Bucharest yesterday on Air France. The plane was late coming in and the turnaround made us about an hour behind schedule.

I didn’t really think much of it, hour long delays are within a reasonable period. Perhaps if there was a connecting flight and I got stuck… But it was just a direct flight.
I wouldn’t say the delay was transparent, it made me hustle from the airport (crawl in traffic is more like it), check into the hotel, and jump on another taxi to the University for the presentation.

So, here’s the point. I received an email today from Air France apologizing for the hour delay; letting me know it isn’t standard and they are crediting my account 2,000 miles.

Let me assure you that the delay you experienced on this occasion was not in
line with the high levels of service we aim to provide.

As gesture of genuine regret for the inconvenience suffered on this occasion, I
am pleased to inform you that 2000 Miles will be credited to your Flying Blue
account within the next few days.
-Air France Customer Support Email

That’s pretty cool. I have never gotten such an email or apology from American Airlines, Northwest, Southwest, British Airlines, or any other that I’ve used.

Thanks A.F.

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Another week, another city in the travel blitz before summer and high prices arrive. This week’s target was Athens, Greece. More than any other trip, Athens did not match my expectations. That’s not good or bad, just not what I expected.

I expected a city like Paris that is surrounded in history with archeological wonders and important architecture everywhere you looked. I thought the city would be full of tourists and the businesses that cater to them. I expected hummus, baba ghanoush, pita bread, eggplant, and feta cheese on every corner. I expected restaurants to throw dishes on the ground all the time to celebrate and draw attention from people passing by. I expected it to be hot and polluted.

I found nothing as I expected.

History and Architecture.

Athens has more than its share of architectural wonders. You can stumble across a humble excavation between houses or turn around and see the massive Acropolis standing behind you like a sentry. I expected Athens to be like Paris and other cities where the icons are the center of tourism money and efforts are made to get as much of that cash as possible.

However, the museums and archeological sites close at 3 p.m. That is much earlier than I expected. I thought the Acropolis would always be open, at least accessible like the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the 2 dinosaurs outside Palm Springs or the Thing in Arizona.

So, unfortunately, I actually did not get up close to any of the Greek ruins. Nope, none, nada. I could see them through fences, but that’s about it. So you’ll need to plan ahead for this. Fly in the night before so you can get that early start. My flight landed at around 10 a.m.. That didn’t leave me much time when you account for transportation and checking into the hotel.

Airport Transportation

Athens has lovely transportation. The buses, metros, and trams are very nice. However, the bus from the airport to the city can be crowded and it seems like it takes forever. You need to expect the ride to last 1 hour and probably more during rush hour. However, it is fairly cheap at 3.20Euros.

The metro will be extended to the Airport in 2010. I’ve read the taxi cabs can be expensive, but I didn’t use any.

Modern Greek Ruins

While I didn’t get a close view of the ancient ruins, there were plenty of the modern variety. Athens looks like a city that underwent a tremendous building boom (for the 2004 Olympics?) and then fell into a sudden bust. There are half-built concrete shells all over the city. For every new shell, there is an old, decrepit building falling apart; unused and untouched. It almost looks like a war zone with pockets destroyed by bombs.

Greek Food

I’d like to say I visited Greece for its history. I might even like to say I came for the architecture and island life. The truth is I came for the food. I love Greek and Mediterranean food. I had a checklist of what I wanted to eat. The standards you’d find at any Greek restaurant around the world.

I did find a touristy restaurant when I first got to the city that had great baba ghanoush, hummus, and cheese pie. The hummus was actually on the dry side and not smooth. The baba ghanoush was to die for. The pita breads were puffed, and the cheese pie was a simple dish with feta in a crust.

Politi.co

Anatolian Cuisine

3 Mitropoleos Street

metro: Syntagma

Athens, Greece

210 894 0170, 210 894 0180

This was my introduction to native Greek food and I was stuffed and happy. But I still found some room to visit the street vendor with odd looking pretzel-like bread. These popular rolls have a slightly sweet flavor with hints of peanut-butter (tahini?). You’ll see the Athenians snacking on this bread throughout the day.

That night I searched for a tiny restaurant far from the tourist crowd. I found a place whose only neighbors were auto shops and a gas station. It’s interior was artistic with hand-made lamps that looked like bad abstract expressionist paintings having sex with Ikea drop lights. This seemed rather promising.

I ordered spanakopita and the chef’s special rice. The spanakopita was a huge serving of baked spinach and cheese in a pie-crust. I was expecting filo dough. This was followed by a huge plate of the chef’s “risotto with vegetables”. Let’s just say it was inspired by the idea of risotto. However, it was very tasty. It had rice, feta, mushrooms, peppers, and carrots. Once again I ate until ready to burst.

There were two more items on my check list that I needed to find the next day: Haloumi, a firm cheese that is grlled and baklava.

American coffee just plain sucks in Greece

I started the next morning with a cup of coffee from the hotel. The hostess presented it with pride and I didn’t have the heart to tell her it looked like it was going to rip my head off and tease me afterward. I could’ve probably stood my spoon up in the cup. Surprisingly, it was drinkable with a hefty portion of creamer and sugar.

I ordered another coffee on the ship to some islands. The “barista” spun around threw something in a cup and whooshed it with steam. This he handed to me for 3 euros. I looked at it like someone just farted on my toast and said, “did you just serve me powdered coffee?” Keep in mind he used a perfectly good espresso machine to blast the powder with steam.

“It’s American coffee” he replied. Ugggh, I said give me some espresso I didn’t want “American coffee”. Don’t get me wrong, I like American coffee. I love “jus de chaussettes”, as the French call it. Sometimes I really crave a big cup of Starbucks instead of the cute little coffees in Europe. But powdered coffee like that is just bad.

This reminds me of an adventure I had with the ever fabulous Durward. We had a goal of drinking coffee at a different cafe every sunday for a year in San Diego. Our worst was a donut shop near the trolley line in National City. They gave us a white Styrofoam cup with hot water and asked us how many spoonfuls of coffee crystals we’d like. Then, she held the powdered non-dairy creamer like it was gold and watched to make sure we didn’t take more than our allotted amount. Don’t even ask about the sugar!

Let’s just say that Greece left me a little decaffeinated.

At our first island, Hydra, the majority of the boat rushed on shore to attack the tourist shops and dockside cafes. I mosied over to a closed museum (it wasn’t even 3), photographed some cats and a memorial, then climbed up the steep streets to see the town. I shouldn’t say climbed, as that would imply I was a healthy mountain climber. My ankle has been sore, so I limped up the hillside.

After clomping my way through the town I stopped at a tiny cafe next to some children playing. They asked me into the kitchen to point to what I wanted. I saw some stewed artichokes and potatoes in a lemon sauce. That’s what I want. A Greek salad was also suggested. The resulting meal was great, especially the salad! The tomatoes and vegetables tasted like they were picked from the garden that morning.

I also had some dinner guests. Two wild cats shared my feta with me. The younger one was the first to say hello. I gave him chunks of cheese that he would quickly scamper away with to eat in peace. The older guy, with gooky eyes that just begged to be cleaned, was more relaxed. He sat by the table and purred as the cheese was served.

This was the Greek food I was hoping for. I wanted some authentic food that I couldn’t find in the typical Greek restaurant but didn’t know existed.

The ship to myself

The ship announced lunch was being served as soon as we got back on board. I was stuffed, but went down for curiousity sake. I saw what looked like bingo-aholics excitedly downing big lamb meatballs and rice. No thanks.

I went upstairs and had the ship to myself for about 30 minutes. it was great to be away from all of those damn Americans! I haven’t been around so many Americans in a very long time. They are exhausting. They can’t go five minutes without complaining about something. blah blah blah blah, but it was cold, blah blah blah blah, she was late, blah blah blah blah it was too expensive… Is that how you enjoy your vacation? How about staying home and complaining about each other.

It was also exhausting because I couldn’t ignore the conversations. It’s easy to tune out other languages; but American English, especially southerners, breaks right through the filters and makes its way straight into my brain. It felt like my mother was sitting at every table and I was waiting for her to say “taaayyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeddddddddd??????!!!!” Who knew three letters could take so long to be pronounced.

But all good things must come to an end and the lunch-fortified fellow travelers found their way back up to my little eden. Luckily we were just about to pull into the next port, Poros, with 30 minutes to explore the tiny town. It was just enough to take some photos and purchase some postcards.

One more to go

Time was running out and I still had some eating to do. Luckily we had a longer stop at the next island, Aegina. I rented a bike and rode back and forth for an hour. It was surprising to see a Yahoo! yodel button at the bike shop:

Pipinis Travel

2, Kanari street, Aegina Greece

+30 22970 28780

.

The bike was fairly cheap at 5 euros for an hour and it let me rationalize an extra meal. I wanted some of that grilled cheese. I went into a restaurant around the corner from the bike rental and asked if they were open. A guy pointed to a door at the back of an empty patio. I walked in and found myself in what appeared to be someone’s family kitchen. There were two birds, a television, mom, dad, grandma, and the daughter. There were also two tables. I asked if they had the cheese and some mint tea.

This was probably my favorite meal in Greece. I’ve had Halloumi cheese in San Diego as a fancy entree. Here it was good ol’ comfort food; served on top of french fries, pita, lettuce, tomatoes, and lots of mayonnaise. The tea came in a mug with a three dimensional smile and was sweeter than what’s her name in Misery before she goes psycho. It was a big plate of greasy, salty, stick to your greek ribs loving. To top it off, a commercial came on the tv for CSI: Miami. I don’t know how that show follows me around the world. I hated to leave this place but the boat was getting ready to leave.

How dare you leave on time!

The boat was ready to leave the dock, but first it gave out two big blasts to warn people to get their ass on board. Just as the boat was leaving a woman below deck starts yelling, in her bible belt best voice, that her friends are not on the boat. Sure enough two women, with hair closer to god than most could pull off, start yelling at the ship to come back and get their asses. They greeted their rescuing ship not with an apologetic thank you but arguing they were not late and the boat left early. It’s funny how EVERYONE on the boat was on time but these two belles, yet the boat was at fault. Suck it up ladies, you were late and the boat should’ve dumped you back on the dock for acting like divas.

The last box to check off

I went out that night for the last item on my culinary list. I wanted some sticky sweet baklava. I wanted something that would make my teeth ache for weeks. I wanted something so sweet it made me seem like what’s her face in Misery before she went psycho. I actually found a baklava store at the bottom of the acropolis that was open late at night. Let me tell you, it was good, damn good.

pARTymusic-cafe

11 Odysseos Street | Karaiskaki Square

Athens 10436, Greece

phone: +30 210 524 5700

With all my checkboxes for mandatory Greek food filled, I was ready to find a cafe with wifi to make some skype calls. I found a great place right next door to the hotel. Cafe pARTy is a tiny, artsy cafe with very friendly people and a strong wifi signal. I was able to call everyone, including my parents.

“Hi Mom, I’m in a cafe in Athens.”

“Did you find a girlfriend? I want you to bring home a new wife!”

“No Mom, there are no women in Greece. They must’ve left when they heard I was visiting. Maybe next trip…. “

We have this running joke. I doesn’t admatter what destination I’m in. Imagine her surprise when I found one in Rouen. Unfortunately Joan was a little tied up at the time and couldn’t commit. However, she was practically burning with anticipation of meeting mother Drake.

Was there anything other than food?

Here are some random observations of the trip:

1. There are lots of wild dogs in Athens. They are much friendlier than the dogs I’ve met in Bangalore, Bucharest, and Tijuana. The Greek islands are filled with wild cats.
2. Nothing is free in Greece. I was a bit surprised at the cost of food, I thought it would be cheaper than Paris. Just don’t be surprised by the extras for water and tip. It wasn’t as expensive as London, just more than I expected.
3. The public transportation is great. Buy a daylong ticket for 3 euros and get access to all of the metros, trams, and busses. Take those busses to see the city’s neighborhoods. You never know what will be around the corner.
4. Don’t forget the museums and such close early.
5. Bring a book or something to do on the island tour. There’s a lot of time to catch up on writing postcards and reading.
6. Stop to try the different cookies, breads, and pastries. They remind me of the panaderias in Mexico, only not as sweet and more complex flavors.
7. Try to find foods that you can’t find in your hometown’s Greek restaurants. There’s a lot more than hummus, tabouli, and pita bread.
8. The flea market is boring. It’s the same old crap you’ll find at any commercial swap meet. Save your money and time and visit a different set of markets.
9. Smoking is allowed indoors. Don’t be surprised by people smoking in restaurants, hotels, on the sidewalks, etc. The Greeks are heavy smokers.
10. The city felt very safe. There are your standard tourist attraction beggars, but I didn’t see locals guarding themselves against pickpockets and the streets felt safe to walk around at night. You might worry more about the dogs than crime.
11. Everyone told me Athens was dirty and polluted. I didn’t find that to be the case. There was a lot of graffiti and abandoned buildings. But the weather was fantastic, the streets were well maintained, the metro was spotless, and the air was clear. I can imagine it is worse in summer. I think their new public transportation has probably solved a lot of the pollution issues. There’s not a lot of traffic for such a large city.
12. The airport offers 45 minutes of free wifi. However, I couldn’t figure out how to refresh that time period. I didn’t even see an option to purchase access. There are also kiosks with free internet usage scattered around the airport.