February 17th, 2020 Germany pt. 1

Hey there,

Finally gonna happen...Christmas in Germany.  The itinerary was this: Fly into Frankfurt, then hit Bamberg, Dresden, Berlin, and Hamburg.  Probably at least a two parter.

We started in Frankfurt cause Emirates flies there and out of Hamburg.  We were told the shopping was excellent in Hamburg, which is why we ended our trip there.  We only had one night in Frankfurt and booked a place near the Christmas Market.

When we were talking about going to Germany for the holiday, everyone said, "oh the Christmas Markets."  We have been fortunate to visit them in Austria, Prague and Italy previously but German ones are the OG.  We visited a bunch on this trip and here is my review of them all.  Lots of food, ate at least one sausage at each, very colorful, arts and crafts fine but not needle moving, and can say with conviction that if you've seen one...  I don't intend on going into any more detail about them going forward although you will see a photo or 10 of me eating a huge wiener.

Frankfurt's market, as with all of them, is located in the main old town square, so they are picturesque.

Let's get this out of the way early too.  The hair is getting longer and the kids are not fans.  It is usually tied up and then hidden with a hat or bandana, but sometimes will let the freak flag fly.  Mad professor is the most common comment and to those that don't like it or feel the need to say something, do your worst.  I have made a career out of commenting on peoples appearance and could give a rat's what you say anyway.  It is a lot of fun, love to let it blow in the breeze and shake it like a dog when it's wet.  Drawbacks are that it is impossible to comb and sometimes wake up with a mouthful of it.  The only person's opinion that matters is Betty's and when she says it's time to go, will consider it. 

We liked the look of Frankfurt but noticed some things that we weren't expecting but would become a theme throughout the next two weeks.  There is graffiti on every surface, people drink openly from sun up to sun up, garbage is strewn about in all corners, and mechanical stuff, like escalators, have a far higher percentage of being out of order than they should.  You go into Germany thinking your gonna be able to eat off the street and maneuver in Jetson's era splendour.  Not the case.

We grabbed an AM train to Bamberg, which was 3 hours away.  Random train station posing with the sleepy/hungover locals.

 Bamberg was recommended as a picturesque Bavarian town and it was that.  We arrived early enough (we would refer to it as Sausage O'clock) for lunch at the local Christmas Market

 It was pretty.  And pretty dead.  It was a lovely city and we did a couple of walks this afternoon and before our train the next day.  Saw the church and scene where the rivers join that is on the cover of the tour guide.

 We were here a little under 24 hours and it felt like just enough.  THere is an old gag about places that came to mind...the best part about Bamberg was packing to get the fuck out.  We did have dinner at a place called Eckerts that was quite good and probably our best "German" meal of the trip.  I said before going that I was gonna eat my weight in schnitzel and had researched this place as having a Wild Boar version, which was quite good.  I had less satisfying schnitzel a couple more times before someone hipped us to the fact that schnitzel is more of an Austrian thing (duh...Weiner means Vienna...how did I not know that?)  Others in our group had the pork cheeks and venison roll and we were all satisfied..

Left town early afternoon for the 3hr train to Dresden.  I crumbed on the mechanics of Germany earlier, but the trains were top notch (top notch).  Clean, on-time and fast.  The had a speedometer readout in places and saw 242kph (150mph).  People asked me why we went to Dresden cause no one recommended it.  Have always had it on my list due to the fire bombing in WWII and was curious about its history.  'Dresden Blues' also happens to be my favorite Cold Chisel song.

We were here for 4 nights and grabbed an Air BnB in the Neustadt quarter and liked it immediately.  Billed as "hip" and did not disappoint.  Tons of cool shops and places to eat with young people, families with strollers and tons of (big) dogs being walked in the streets at all hours.  We later found out this is due to the 36k student population in the neighborhood.  We had great burgers, ramen and tapas on 3 of the 4 nights and saw a couple of other places we were sad not to try.  On the other night, we took the recommendation of our apartment host and went to local pub and eatery Bautzner Tor. 

Betty was sick for the first half of our trip and this night was her lowest point.  As the kids and I were heading out, asked if we could bring her anything back she responded in a frail whisper, "maybe soup or some light pasta."  We were tickled by the 'light pasta' request, not only for the meek way she said it but is there even such a thing?  We get there and the place is full of folks and the decor is quirky with things that had been collected over decades.  I order schnitzel, which was edible at best, and the boy sees a pasta dish with goulash and orders that thinking we can take leftovers home.  They put his plate down and we see it.  Looks like pickles.  Then we smell it and it smells like pickles.  Sure enough, he tastes it and it tastes like pickles.  Good thing we don't step in it.  That last bit inspired by Cheech and Chong.

My aversion to pickles is well documented and sadly, have passed that hatred along to the kids.  Knew going into Germany that they have a thing about them and expected to spend time working on ways to avoid them, but who would have ever thought they would poison an harmless bowl of pasta with them.  Fucking MONSTERS.

I liked Dresden quite a bit and think/hope the family did too.  We always try to take a walking tour early in a visit cause they show you the important stuff, things you don't know but should, and always give some insights as to the character of a place.  Dresden is in the state called Saxony and Germany wasn't Germany until 1871.  Before that it was a collection of kingdoms that fought with each other as much as they got along.  Our guide said that the Saxons always threw down with the losers in these conflicts.  Napoleon, the Poles, Nazi's...their most succesful leader was an Elector (they couldn't even afford a king) named Augustus the Strong.  The whole area was filled with Lutherans, and much to the peoples consternation he converted to Catholicism so he could become the King of Poland.  In elementary school there was a special needs kid that we called the King of Poland.

Dresden has been mostly reconstructed from the devastation of the WWII fire bombing.  It was known before the war as the "Florence of Germany" (of course it was)  and after the war was in East Germany.  The Soviets that ruled East Germany didn't have the cash and certainly were not in the mood to restore it to its pre-war glory, but the folks in town saved the stones from the rubble and have been slowly building it back up ever since, with most of that work being done post 1989 reunification. 

On the banks of the Elbe River

 Block long mural depicting the leaders of Saxony.

 THis is the Catholic church that no one attends.  Most of the old buildings stone are blackened but it is not due to the bombing, but rather is naturally occurring as the sandstone used to construct is high in iron and magnesium, which rusts over time.

 The Protestant church that was jammed for Christmas

 A rare nice family photo

 You can see evidence of reconstruction going on all about and one of the features are all of these blue pipes crisscrossing the town.  Seems the drainage/sewage system in town is still being modernized and these pipes take the excess and dump it into the river.  "That's why the town smells" said our guide.  Put that quote on the tour brochure

Our guide took us to the Green Vault, which housed a complete collection of royal jewels.  I say housed cause it was closed as many of them were stolen a few weeks prior. Bookmark this as it'll be referenced in the Berlin section next time.

She took us by a hotel that had recently been renovated and told us of the time Putin came to visit.  He was the leader of Russia buy that time and while visiting Dresden, he disappeared one day and his security detail freaked out.  Before he became whatever you want to call him of Russia, he cut his teeth in the KGB serving 10 years in Dresden, and he snuck out to go eat at his favorite bakery and catch up with old friends.  Russians account for over 1/3 of all tourists to Dresden with multiple daily flights from the old Soviet Union. 

We also walked through the palace they called The Zwinger.  I said palace, but it is really a public space with gardens and museums now.  It has a big black crown (symbol of Polish royalty) and we spent far too much time trying to take a picture of it as if it were on our heads.

 Obligatory shot to make Betty's head look big.

In that last shot, you can see beneath the clock these white things and they are bells that ring on the hour.  The guide kept referring to them and I kept hearing Mice and Porcelain and just couldn't grasp what she was talking about.  Kids heard it and laughed at me saying the bells are made of Meissen porcelain.  Whatevs kids, have taken a lot of blows to the head.

We left our guide in the square and as it was Christmas Eve, she said she was going home to have a traditional German Christmas dinner of sausages and potato salad.  Uh, isn't that what you eat every day?

Our last day in town was Christmas Day and fortunately, the Opera House and art museum were open, so we had something to do.  It was leisurely...the museum had some nice things but sadly, the prized Van Gogh they have was on loan somewhere, so it was Van Gone.  As Opera Houses are typically the most grand building a city has to offer, trying to see them, while not a must, is usually advised. 

This one was nice, and they were really puffing their chests out about the architect, whose name escapes me, but we were underwhelmed.  The marble isn't really marble but the 18th century formica equivalent, it has burned down at least 3 times, and it was built, as most of the buildings in town are, in a traditional Italian Renaissance style.  We were starting to question why we didn't just go to Italy then.

They did have a cool clock in the auditorium, which is impossible to see below, but it is a 5 minute clock, so it changes every 5 minutes from 12:15 to 12:20 and so on.  As we are sitting in the balcony listening to the very efficient and overly thorough German guide monologue to us about curtains, kids and I are all staring at the clock waiting for it to change and then slap each other with delight when it does.

I forgot one thing about our visit...when planning the trip months previous, we were told of a city to visit called Freiberg.  In planning, saw that Freiberg was a 25 minute train ride from Dresden so planned a day to go out to see it.  Betty was sick so begged off and the kids and I headed off.  As we get there, the place is a freaking dump and do not see any of the things I had been researching.  Turns out, there is another city called Freiburg and I confused the two.  Freiburg (on the other side of Germany) has baroque this and gilded that while Freiberg is an East German mining town that has yet to get back on its feet.  Lost a star on my TripAdvisor review for that misstep.  Our guide from before said that Dresden has a 5% unemployment rate, but that many of the old East German cities nearby in Saxony have not fared so well and their unemployment rate is in the mid-20's.  We could feel that this day. 

I'd recommend Dresden as it has a funky vibe (Santa motorcycle gang below), interesting, if not tortured, history and seems to be a city with potential.  Two full days seems about right. 
 

February 14th, 2020

Hey there,

I will get to Germany write-up next time...I have to...but for today, thought a brief  What's happening - Coronavirus edition would be in order.  I have to call it the Wuhan Coronavirus instead of the new Covid 19 as that is a WHO term and Taiwan isn't in the WHO.  Thanks China

Have to assume that you are getting the broad strokes, but here are a couple local one I feel compelled to share.  Not surprisingly, hording has begun.  First it was the face masks and understand that those are sold out in the States too.  Here, there has been a run on rice, toilet paper and feminine hygiene pads.  Rice and toilet paper I get cause if we are truly quarantined, you gotta eat and you gotta go although I have been stocking up on water intsead of toilet paper cause I can find alternatives for that.  The pads are interesting as they are being used to supplement and/or replace the lack of face masks.  The government is rationing face masks and people are allowed to buy a certain amount per week.  Have seen lines around the block on face mask selling days with people waiting for their allotment.

While you may have seen those reports, I bet you didn't know about the drastic steps Taiwanese soap operas have taken.  They are toning down their kissing scenes out of respect for the measures the populace is taking during the outbreak.  I don't think that is gonna stop the locals from making more locals and predict that with all the voluntary quarantining that there will be a surge in (year of the) rat child births 9 months from now.

A few days ago they discovered a cruise ship passenger visiting Taiwan that was infected and traced his movements on their day in Taipei.  This is the playbook in these types of cases and remember well the case of the Ebola doctor in NYC.  That is how I learned there was a restaurant called the Meatball Shop.  We went to said shop that next summer and it was just 'OK'.  The reason I relate this local tourist is that his sight-seeing itinerary is a classic list of 'Things To Do' in Taipei and if you ever visit, will suggest you start with this list of attractions.

Babydoll's High School, as with all schools in Taiwan, is still scheduled to remain closed through February 26th.  Hong Kong just extended their closure to March 13th and fear we will follow suit.  So far, the on-line thing hasn't been too bad for her.  She likes getting up at 10am to start work.  OK...1pm.  Fortunately for her, she is a disciplined student and seems to be working hard but we will see what happens as the real test as to how this worked will be when she takes the AP exams.  Have talked to many of the teachers and administration over there about this situation.  While the school had procedures in place for just such a scenario, they had never been initiated so everyone is learning what works and what doesn't.  I offered, and all have agreed, that this process is a great learning experience for them and the kids as tele-anything is obviously more prevalent in the world.  They offered a few things that weren't working so well.  One is a Middle School teacher and while most of the kids are behaved in an on-line class setting, there are always that handful of squirlley boys that can't control themselves and ruin the class for everyone.  They are learning how to give them virtual timeouts and hope that the boys learn a valuable lesson here.  The other comment I heard was that for some of these kids, the ones that have difficult home lives with overbearing/abusive parents, that school is their sanctuary and they are now stuck in a bad situation 24 hours a day.  That one hurts.  Anyway, here is an article from the China Posts that talks about our schools efforts in this area.  A bit of a fluff piece, but still.

All in all, not so bad for Taiwan.  The political pressure that China is exerting (like WHO denial and pressuring places like the Philippines to treat Taiwanese like mainlanders by excluding flights from here) is total bullshit.  So far, the biggest effect on me personally has been with the cancelling of things.  We have a trip to Melbourne planned for late March and the route we booked months ago has a layover in Hong Kong.  So far, we seem OK with that transit as we're not entering HKG but that could change as Australia is rightfully quarantine conscious.  With the overall reduction of passengers from Hong Kong, they cancelled the flight and booked us on another one later that day.  Not completely awful but does mean that I am not going to be able to attend the Opening Game of the Australian Football League season by my Essendon Bombers that I had planned around months ago. 

On the flip side, the school has cancelled two of the planned baseball trips (the third is pending).  While that sounds bad, Betty has to go on a work trip to Egypt and folded in a few sightseeing days.  As this is/was during the busy baseball season, as I was committed to that could not join her.  With the baseball trip cancellations, am now in position to join her.  Not a done deal, but close.  I am giddy with excitement about that as I have been a nut about the place since the 5th grade.  I vividly remember learning about Egypt in history class that year and that it was the first time I remember falling in love with history.  It must have been obvious to the teachers as I was one of 10 kids chosen to go with the school to the King Tut exhibit in the Spring of 1978.  You have to be at least my age to remember the hype that surrounded that tour.  In reading that Wikipedia entry, I learned about the geopolitics involved with the dates between Russian and the US and the evolving alliances with Egypt /USSR/USA.  It was the first time any of the Tut artifacts had been allowed outside of Egypt and King Tut mania was sweeping the globe.  Tickets were hard to get and getting to go for free (and miss a day of school) was the greatest thing to 12 year old me.  Who remembers this?

'Buried with a donkey...he's my favorite honkey.'    Blue Lou Marini sax solo...  Egypt is one of the two things left on my bucket list (the other being spending Hanukkah with my beloved Yo La Tengo, which I hope to cross off in the next year or two), so fingers are crossed.  Am also accepting recommendations on things to add to my bucket list.

Other than that, pretty normal.  We can go out and do stuff and need to cause you can get a bit stir crazy without human interaction.  For example, last Saturday, talked Betty and a couple of friends to go to the Van Gogh Alive exhibit.  That exhibit projects the works of Van Gogh all over a huge room and is worth your while should it come to your town.  It wasn't crowded but wasn't as empty as I thought it would be due to the virus thing..  In the exhibit, they project some images on the floor and the shape is that of a catwalk.  When you go in the staff tells you not to touch the walls but that you can walk on the floor projection space, but the locals all sat around it like it was made of lava.

Our group of Western leaning types was intrigued by the locals watching the area and not stepping on it, so the wife of our friends and I decide we are going to walk on it like we're supermodels.  We did and we could feel the eyes of the room on us.  Betty and the husband filmed us (I cannot figure out how to upload videos from the phone to this space unfortunately), but we are obviously having a good time and you can see the people just staring at us.  Half of them probably thought we were uncouth westerners, and the other half were in awe .

After the show, we walked over to my favorite restaurant in town and getting out in the downtown area for a stroll reminded us how cool this little town is.  We walked through the furniture district, saw a bunch of cool places to eat and drink, even a bespoke shoe store.  I know I bash this dump with regularity for shitty food, poor driving and relentless heat, but have come to love it.  We are probably blissfully immune to a lot of the political divide that the island has, but it sure feels a lot less split than what is happening in the States in this era. 

One more unrelated Taiwan thing...this morning I ran into the first Chinese albino I've ever seen.  Dude was giant too...like 6'2".  I was walking along and he came at me perpendicular and kinda stopped me in my tracks.  Striking he was.  Walked behind him for a bit and all the locals would pass him going the other way and then all turn around to stare at him.  That must happen to the poor guy all the time.  No gag here, just sayin'.

One quick follow up that I forgot to share about Oman.  On our drive with the tour guide we loved and who we talked about culture with, a question he had for us was about the cops.  As we were driving, saw a bunch of speed cameras.  He asked why is that only in America do cops pull people over for speeding.  I had no good answer for him.  We talked about racial profiling and police shootings, but had never thought about that before.  Have been mulling that one ever since.

Finally for today, have a tip for you.  If you loved and miss The Far Side comics, they are publishing a daily dose of them on the internet.  Never a day where one of them doesn't put a smile on my face.

Talk soon.

February 8th, 2020

Hey there,

Really trying to hammer through some stuff, and with the city being on quasi-quarantine and no trips planned for a bit, hope to knock out a bunch of backlog next couple of weeks. 

For today, want to relate a few things from a week in mid-January in the Bay Area.  I went solo as my sister had a couple of trips planned and 93 year old mom, who is doing well for a 93 year old with a couple of major surgeries in her recent past, gets anxious if family is not around. 

I go to SF a lot and it is no secret that we have a hate/love relationship...I hate that place and it loves to fuck with me.  I often recount the time I was house/dog sitting and the mutt had a stroke and was paralyzed.  I ended up having to put him down (being in the room with him when that happened haunts my dreams) while also hurting my back by picking him up to the point I will be forever damaged.  A dark day.  So I always go with equal parts anticipation of enjoying the area and knowing that something unexpected is going to happen.  This time, it didn't take long.

Parental advisory...the next few paragraphs involve poopy talk.

I arrive early the day before my sister and brother-in-law (BIL) leave town and after a brief chat, my sister leaves for work and BIL takes the (new) dog for his morning constitution.  I go upstairs and take a pee and then go to make the bed and unpack in the room I'm staying.  I come out of the room and there is water gushing out of the bathroom.  A lot of it.  The toilet is still running so lift the tank lid and see the chain has come off, so drop the plunger to stop the water flow.  It shouldn't overflow because of that, but the theory is that my nephew who was living there at the time dropped a load that morning that plugged it and the combination led to the disaster.  Fortunately, I know where they keep the towels and it took 10-12 to mop up the water that by this time had reached well into the hallway.  I go downstairs to find the plunger and then see a waterfall going into their dining room that had leaked from above.  BIL returns just in time to see me finishing off mopping that up.  I feel bad but know it wasn't entirely my fault, but I have a reputation and so know no one will believe me.  BIL does say that water has come through the ceiling before and says that was due to their other son taking a too long shower with his girlfriend.  Sexy time.

The next morning as we're getting ready to go to take them to the airport, I need to go number 2.  Already fearful of the upstairs toilet, I head down to the one downstairs. 

Will say at this point that I came to SF after 3 days in Taiwan and after 2 weeks in Germany before that, and I don't know about you, but flying is constipating to me and having so many long hauls has confused my bowels.  As a public service announcement, to help avoid this my recommendation to you is to stay well hydrated and get extra fiber.  I can say this with total confidence after a week eating a ton of dates that it really lubricates this old guy's plumbing.

Speaking of old plumbing...this morning I have a bowel movement that was a long time coming.  It was one of those that will live in memory as it was massive and painful to the point of breaking some blood vessels.  It was so hard that upon wiping, the paper was so clean that one could resew it back onto the roll for another use.  My point being that I used very little paper.  As this is family that knows me, I exit proud and share my delight of having lifted so heavy a load.  A few minutes later, my nephew comes to me and says that he just took a leak and that the toilet is now completely blocked.  This time, there is no question I did the deed and so was my responsibility to take care of the blockage.  Fortunately, there was no overflow and knowing quite well where the plunger was, I grab it and go to work...and it will not go down.  Not only that, but whatever I left earlier explodes into a nightmarish Chunky soup.  I am a proud Super-pooper, but there is no way humanly possible for this to be just my creation and suspect a blockage somewhere deep down the line.  I take them to the airport and then call Roto-Rooter to do their worst.  $250 later, the incident was over.  Is it me or SF that brings it out of me?  Regardless, the legend grows.

Postscript...a few days later I come back to their place (BIL has returned by this point) and see buckets catching water from a leak upstairs in a different area.  Seems that their newish washing machine overflowed and cascaded downstairs.  This time it was blamed on the nephew for overstuffing it with a comforter.  I know my reputation deservedly casts me as the villian in the toilet schemes above, but I know in my heart that nephew is the true culprit in all of the above.  Since he is his mother's little baby, he will never take the rap. 

Couple of other things I found funny to share.  The first weekend I was in town happened to be the Divisional Round of the playoffs.  On Saturday, the Niners advanced and on Sunday afternoon, the Seahawks were set to play Green Bay and if they won, would be coming to SF the next weekend to play to go to the Super Bowl.  This year, the Seahawks running backs all got season ending injuries and they brought back Marshawn Lynch for the playoff run so I was able to break out my old Seahawk Lynch jersey and brought it along to wear for the games.  I go over to my Mom's Assisted Living place to watch and am wearing his #24.  I go through the lobby to step outside for a bit before gametime and behind me I hear this woman start to boo.  I turn around and she is this old bat in a wheelchair and with thumbs way down yelling "Seahawks...booo!".  I don't care who you are, even an old lady in a wheelchair, I am not gonna let that slide unaddressed.  I am nice though and say that wouldn't it be great if they met for the NFC Championship next week after having split two games this year, both in dramatic fashion?  She looks at me like a a Fox News viewer who I just told I love Obama and once again gives me a loud BOOOO!.  I relate this story later that night to my sister who says, "Oh, that was Bill Walsh's widow...she lives next to mom and she loves her Niners."  I'll give her a pass and hope she survived the humiliation delivered by KC in the Superbowl.  Getting heckled by football royalty is a badge of honor.

Was able to use my sisters Subaru this week and am pretty sure I related the fact that it beeps and dings incessantly and that there is no way to turn off the sounds.  It drives her nuts too but she is in it until the lease expires.  One day I am driving and since there is no one ahead or behind me to the horizon, change lanes without signaling.  Her car has that feature that beeps whenever one does so without blinking, ostensibly telling the driver that they are veering lanes.  Over the previous few weeks have been joking with he kids about Karens...if you don't know what a Karen is I suggest you consult the Urban Dictionary on the matter.  Anyhoo, I name her car Karen cause that thing is always demanding to see my supervisor.

Lastly...one day am sitting in my mom's apartment talking about something I can't remember, and she is uninterested and spouts the line, "I don't care cause I don't care."  Beautiful and immediately know this will become part of my canon.  Was at dinner with the family later on and relate this nugget of wisdom and BIL says it reminds him of some article he read about euphemisms around the world and one that stuck with him from Poland.  If a Pole is talking about a problem but he doesn't want to get involved, he will say "not my monkey, not my circus"  Who says the Poles are not geniuses.  Copernicus and now this?  Upon research, this is a line that millenials have adopted and is properly said as "not my circus, not my monkeys".  I prefer the way I heard it more and I love that line so much and have used it with great effect since. 

February 7th, 2020 Oman part II

Hiya...

All Oman part II.

On our third day, we headed to the airport for an hour flight to the city of Khasab.  Khasab is located on the Musandam peninsula which is at the narrowest point in the Straight of Hormuz.  The Straight of Hormuz at this point is 20 miles wide and separates Oman from Iran and connects the Persian Gulf to the rest of the world.  2/3 of the world's oil passes through this channel and so it is a geopolitical chokepoint and the scene of a lot of history.  This peninsula is not contiguous with the rest of Oman (hence the flight) as they kept possession of this strategic land when the UAE was granted its Independence in 1971.  Here is one, but you should really dial up a  larger map just to see the neighborhood that this place lies.

Note that the Persian Gulf reads as Arabian Gulf.  Depends on what side of the Sunni/Shia fence you're on, but I grew up with it being the Persian Gulf so will refer to it as such going forward.  None of our friends had ever gone there, but as students of international relations, this was a major draw for Betty and I.

As far as things to do, the web said to take a dhow cruise through the fjords, so we booked a company to take us on a 6 hour trip.  They were great (Khasab Dolphin Tours).  They grabbed us from the airport and it was a magical day.  We hung out in the town for a half hour waiting for our 10am departure and then went back to the office.  It appeared we were gonna be the only ones on the boat that day, but the dude says that we need to wait a couple of minutes as another group that was coming from Dubai was delayed.  He then says that it is a group of 10 Chinese and I wish I had a photo of Betty's face when she heard that.  The dreaded Decibel of Chinese.  The boat guy smelled a rat as the guide leading this group was saying they were 15 minutes away but that didn't jive with the location he was giving, so he sent us out without them and said they would join us via speedboat when they arrived, which was two and a half hours later.  That gave us two and a half hours to commune with the area in peace.

Side note...as we are driving from the office to the dock, we pass by a soccer field and on it is herd of goats.  I ask the driver, who spoke some English, if that was the Omani National team.  Not sure if he got it but he laughed.

A dhow is the local form of boat and always find it interesting that wherever you go, the traditional boats all have a certain design unique to them.

These boats were traditional fishing vessels, but in the form of a tour boat, they are built to chill.

Our morning sans Chinese was delightful...we saw a bunch of dolphins, dove into the water and explored a tiny island the British used as a telegraph station.

For me, the best part was cruising on these calm seas in this amazing ship and meditating on the scenery.  If lush forest is your thing, you may not care for the severe lack of vegetation, but I find that staring at the geology and colors of the desert contrasted with the deep blue of the water soul soothing.

The Chinese showed up about lunchtime and they did not disappoint.

They immediately busted out their tupperware full of Chinese food.  We said to ourselves that, here we are, in a remote spot of the world, far removed from the quarantines of the coronavirus, and sure enough we are gonna catch that shit from a a pile of recently arrived mask wearing mainlanders.  This crew was an extended family of 5 adults and 5 kids and to be fair, they were not as bad as feared.  Contrary to stereotype, most of them ended up eating some of the local fare the boat provided, and a few of them even jumped into the water.  By getting on before them, our clan had staked out the primo spot at the front of the boat and I got to lounge most of the afternoon sunning myself on the bow.

After spending the night at a well appointed hotel in Khasab, we booked passage on the ferry back to the main part of Oman.  I based our itinerary on this guys blog entry.  In it he mentioned that in the mornings, at the harbor you can see speed boats leaving the port loaded with goods like goats and medical supplies to take across the straight and deliver them to people in Iran that cannot get certain things due to sanctions.  We were not disappointed

The ferry ride takes four hours and you glide by much of the same type of scenery as the day before, but the experience that I wanted to have was to travel through the flashpoint that is the Straight of Hormuz just to say I did.  You could see giant tankers sailing through, and at one point we passed through a type of parking lot for those ships waiting their turn.

Our destination that day was back to Muscat, but the ferry only goes so far as the port of Shinas three hours by car north.  There is a public bus option, but it took 4.5 hours and people told us that hiring a taxi was not much more expensive and much faster.  We get off the boat and waiting for our luggage see a guy that is offering that service.  I am put in charge of negotiating and make the deal for 25 Omani Rials.  He seems to speak little English and later find out he speaks nothing but how to say 25 Rials.  He leads us to his vehicle and it is a small pick-up truck.  Getting closer, it is not only small, but old and filthy.  Getting inside, we can tell it isn't used for human transportation often and smells like his usual passengers are goats.  Babydoll is sensitive to smell and she spent the whole ride with the window cracked and her nose sticking outside the window.  How this dude could even see traffic through the dirt on his window was impressive.

Here is something I learned about cars...the maximum speed limit anywhere in Oman is 120 kph and they have a law that cars can only be sold if they have a warning light/beeper that signals the driver when they go over that limit.  I had never heard of such a thing but Betty says she has seen it in Jordan before.  I suppose that is a good feature to have, but it would drive me crazy.  Our pick-up was an older model and did not have that feature, but this hunk of crap was so beat up that when he hit 120, the whole car would shake as if the wheels were gonna fall off.   As a self proclaimed master behind the wheel, feel it my responsibility to critique the driving habits of places where I spend time on the roads, and I consider the Omanis to be above average.  They have the benefit of being able to use an excellent road system with well paved and lit streets and highways.  They keep to the right to allow faster traffic to pass and stop appropriately for pedestrians.  Other than a tendency to tailgate a bit too much, give them a solid B+.

Our time in Oman slowed down a lot after this as two days were budgeted to be "free" in Muscat.  Our first three nights were spent at the Sheraton in the city.  It was lovely, had one of the best breakfast buffets in memory with a dosa bar being a highlight, and at 14 floors is the tallest building in the country.  Our last leg of the journey we were fortunate (by virtue of Betty's accumulated points) to stay at the W Muscat.  I am not lying when I say it is the nicest hotel I have had the pleasure of staying.  It didn't hurt that Platinum member Betty got us into an upgraded suite, but this place was not only lavish, but the design was an attraction in itself.  On the last afternoon we had one of the talent (they call their employees that instead of staff) take us around to show us the artistic touches featured.  In every corner there were flourishes that on the surface were attractive, but we learned that they were done so to represent the land and culture of Oman.  You are welcomed at the entrance by a steel sculpture of a tree that is frankincense, which is a prime export and national symbol of Oman. 

It went like that throughout...the pool bar inspired by a famous wadi, bases of tables that are goats and camels, a ceiling light instillation based on the Omani mountains, and the roof deck lounge that had an infinity pool overlooking the beach with the decor of a desert camp.

Marvelous.  The staff/talent were drawn from all over the globe and we were told more than once that there were people from 49 countries working there.  We had a game where we would try to guess their nationalities and they were all more than happy to engage in conversation.  We know one lady was Hispanic after hearing her speak Spanish at breakfast, so we all guessed what country she was from and asked her the next morning.  None of us got it right (she was from Mexico), but in talking to her, it came out that Betty had Argentine origins and as soon as she said it out loud, this dude at a table nearby head swivels and he comes over.  Turns out he is the chef and is from Buenos Aires.  I have seen this scenario dozens of time when Betty meets another Argentine...the Spanish gets all flowery and they connect like they are family.  It is quite a sight to behold. 

The hotel is ideally located 5 minutes along the beach from this outdoor mall area that had several great food options (we fell in love with a Persian food joint called Cherry Bistro) and were gonna go back there this night, but Argentine chef said that if we wanted a nice steak that we should try the place in the hotel called Char.  We had tried to avoid eating at the W cause it is not cheap, but when Betty hears 'nice steak', game over.

We had a lovely meal there and it wasn't too outrageously expensive, but the reason I mention it was that during dinner, which was our last in country, we were commenting on how often the staff/talent asked us how everything was.  Most of the time you hear it and it is really just chatter...but these guys were obviously not only trained to inquire but to follow up when someone had a criticism.  At the pool this day after getting our daily banana smoothie poolside, Babydoll and I lamented at how it was not smooth but full of ice.  Our pool talent (from Zimbabwe) asked us how it was and we told him our feelings.  After promising that tomorrow's would have less ice, we are back in the room and get a call from the desk asking about it.  We are recounting this and all the questions about quality at dinner and we call back to a famous dinner in Taipei years earlier.

At that dinner at an Italian joint with friends, one being our local celebrity Wine Master friend, Wine guy says that he had an issue with the cut of meat and how it wasn't the right one to be prepared in the fashion the restaurant did so and during the meal, we debated the merits of telling an establishment if we found something wrong with our meal.  We agreed that if something was really off, that it should be brought to their attention, but something a bit more esoteric like the current meat preparation issue should be left alone..  The proprietor comes to our table after the meal, we suspect cause he knows Wine guy and his taste in things matters, and Wine guy blurts out his opinion on the meat  I can still see the guys face fall in slow motion and it's obvious he is crestfallen.   He goes away and we decide against dessert and are getting ready to ask for the bill when the dude shows up with a dessert medley on the house due to our friends dissatisfaction.  I know our friend feels bad but we all laugh as we enjoy our lovely chocolate whatever.

As we are having dinner this night in Oman and talking about this social situation, we all agree our meals are excellent.  I say to Betty that I knew her piece of meat was good cause she inhaled it and she says it was good but she ate it fast cause it was not served on a hot plate to help keep it warm as is done in top quality steakhouses.  5 seconds after she says that, the waiter comes by to ask how dinner was and if there was anything that could have been better, so I offer up her suggestion.  The waiter thanks us profusely for our input and goes away.  As with the above dinner, we had some cookies in the room to enjoy for dessert so were not going to order any here, and the chef (very Turkish) comes out to talk to us.  It was at least a 5 minute discussion as to how right we were and that a plate warmer is on order and that he appreciated our insight so much that dessert was on them.  We then laughed as we enjoyed as nice a piece of cheesecake that Oman has to offer.  The lesson, if you want a free dessert, always complain.

I budgeted free days in Muscat knowing this was gonna be a nice place, and also that the girls work really hard and value time just to flop out and do nothing.  As doing nothing is my job, vacations are my time to be busy.  Fortunately, not only is the W on the beach and by some delicious food, but the Royal Opera House is across the street.  They have tours so talk the girls into a walk over for a tour of the place.  Touring opera houses is a thing that we do often as they are typically where art and architecture in a town meet as that city's showpiece.  The kids and we have seen some of the best the world has to offer, but it is to the point where it is a lot of same same, so were not expecting this to be any more than a thing to do. 

We were not only pleasantly surprised but were wowed by the building.  From the outside, it had the box like look of an Omani fort and our guide confirmed this was on purpose as a nod to Omani culture.  She also added that the stone used was Omani stone that could withstand the brutal heat and sun of the country.

Stepping inside, the sensation was of wonder.  The lobby was grand in the finest tradition of opera houses, but fresh and expansive and in a style that was both classic and immediately recognizable as Middle Eastern....not stuffy in an old world way.  We paid the 5 bucks for the tour and were told that the marble floors were of Italian stone and the buttery woods on the ceiling were from Burmese teak.  Crappy cell phone photos don't do it near the justice it deserves.

The concert hall itself was equally impressive.  Built from 2011-2014, they not only spared no expense on the decor, but incorporated all the latest technology in staging, seating and acoustics so that they could expand/contract the space to fit any kind of performance.  A touch that they claimed was new to their building was a screen on each seat that translated whatever language the opera was in into Arabic and English for the audience to follow along.  Not a bad diversion for an hour on a free day.

To get to the Opera House from our hotel, we walked through the Opera Galleria, which is a high end shopping center built to complement the theatre.  They had very nice stuff and who doesn't like to window shop.  As we are walking back to the hotel, we pass by a shop that has scarves and things that look really nice.  Betty is ready to flop out at the hotel, but remind her she just lost her favorite scarf and it doesn't hurt to take a peak.

We were in this place for another hour...the lovely guy running the place showed us all kinds and explained that each pashmina is hand embroidered from Kashmir.  They were so beautiful that Betty had a hard time narrowing it down to buy just two, and even Babydoll was able to talk herself into one.  After deciding on the pashminas, start looking around at the rug selection and he has loads of gorgeous ones.  I thought we took a picture of it, but the one he had on the wall was a masterpiece (and cost US$50,000).  Amazingly, Betty resisted purchasing any.  During all this we are talking to the guy (Mr Parry) and learn he is from Kashmir and all of this amazing stuff in the shop is from Kashmiris working out of their homes.  Not gonna go into the political situation there but Kashmir is one of those places that is always in the news as being one of the most likely origins of war, and potentially nuclear war, between India and Pakistan.  Mr Parry had just spent a month there and while his description is of a land with immense beauty. the place now is in a state of martial law...no internet, intermittent electricity, troops roaming everywhere...and that he barely left his family's home during his stay.

This kind of encounter happened all the time during our week in Oman and while there are lots of countries similar to that, this felt most unusual..  Having chats with the South African server, or the receptionist from the Philippines, the entire world lives in Oman and they all seem really happy they are.  The population of the country is 4.7 million with half of that being foreign nationals.   I don't know it first hand, but in places like Saudi Arabia or Qatar, there are loads of foreigners doing all the work cause they all are rich from oil and don't need to do the menial stuff.  I wrongly suspected Oman to be similar but was corrected by several people who said that the Sultan Qaboos (that guy again) specifically did not want the people to live off of oil handouts but had to work.  All taxi drivers must be Omani by law for instance.  It is apparent that they all do OK cause there was not a single sign of poverty to be seen anywhere.

I know this is getting long but have one more thing.  In between free days, booked a day trip to see Wadi Shab.  We had been told this was a must and saved it to the end.  Located 1.5 hours south of Muscat, we were picked up by our guide Yusef.  We liked him immediately as he got all the jokes and pitched in with some of his own.  His brother is at university in Kentucky and Yusef had spent several weeks touring the States.  Before we came to Oman, many people asked why we would go to such a dangerous place and Yusef related he recieved the same questions from his friends before going to America, what with all the shootings and violence on TV.  Relatedly, on the ferry we met a European couple that were bike trekking around the world for the last three years and had just been to Iran for the last month.  She said how great it was and that all the people she met were lovely but said to them, "don't blame us".  The Europeans replied with the exact same thing.

Yusef has also traveled to a bunch of other places we have and haven't been so had plenty to talk about.  Omanis love to go to Thailand for example cause they can booze and chase girls.  Yusef was also very candid about Omani life and his own, telling us about the mechanics of his arranged marriage (and how his wife is just an OK cook) and what was the deal with the style of beard the Omani mean wear.  Noticed it early and often, but the men had facial hair that looked like it was between 3 and 4 days old, and manicured like a Japanese bonsai.  Not once did I see any long hair or neck beards.  It appeared to me that it smacked of a lot of effort.  He told us he didn't remember when it became the style, but that they get the perfect lines of the beard by using lasers. 

Anyhoo, Wadi Shab...a wadi is a river that is fed by mountain water.  This particular one has carved a steep valley out of the mountains and after a good hour hike up the valley, you get to a series of clear pools where you can float and such.  Another one of those places that is hard to capture the majesty of the canyon, and we didn't take our phones in the pools, but have to say that this was the most beautiful place we'd seen during our visit.

I said it was an hour hike...took us at least 1.5 cause this was not easy.  For a good 2/3 of the way, the path was uneven at best, and mostly it was climbing up and down bolder fields and around cliff sides where the rocks were smooth as glass from erosion.  That last snap you can see Babydoll giving me support and she had to do so the entire way.  I felt cartilage sheering off on several drops and there were two points when I looked at her and said "no more".  She looked at me like a drill sergeant but said in a kind voice "you can do this."  Yusef was also by my side and helped the entire time too.  He mentioned casually earlier that he is also a paramedic and does this for extra cash on his days off, so that made me feel better. 

The pools were amazing...water was cool, but not cold, and the remoteness of the place made this wonder not overcrowded.  Getting in the water made me feel better too cause it was deep in spots, but I can swim.  Some of the other visitors were not strong swimmers and I was able to help them get across the deeper spots so was able to give back help that I had received on land.  There was this one guy from Uganda, huge built dude that could wrestle a lion, but he was tripping out when he got to spots that the water was deeper than he could stand.  There were four interconnected pools but my knees wouldn't allow me to climb over to boulder to the last two.  Babydoll went and said that there was a cliffside on one where you had to climb up a rope and could dive 20 feet into it.  The Ugandan guys guide attested to the fact she did it and was impressed by her courage.

Getting down the valley was no easier, and we got passed up a lot cause I was so slow and B-doll and Yusef were literally carrying me over some rough spots.  I made it without falling once but realize that there won't be many more times I can pull something like that off.  The knees were bad before, but they are a different and worse kind of bad now.  We get to the car and the girls go to the bathroom to change and I am waiting by the car when a woman who must have seen my struggles on the trail comes up to me, flashes a big thumbs up and says, "Monsieur...Bravo!".   Classic.

Time for the ride home but we make a quick pitstop a a sinkhole nearby.  I was not ready to go down the steps to go in but saw folks swimming and snorkeling.  At the carpark when we pulled up were a couple of hippies that looked straight out of High Times were changing a tire to their well worn and lived in Volkswagon Vanagon.  Spent a good 20 minutes trying to describe what a hippie was to Yusef. 

One thing I have not mentioned about Omani men is that they all, literally not metaphorically, all wear this outfit called a dishdasha.  Took a photo with Yusef wearing his.

They are pretty cool and look damn comfortable.  Notice that little tassle off the neck line...it is not just decorative but one puts a perfume on them to make them smell good.  The hats are part of the outfit and have a name that I forget, but there are a million different designs and colors, but all the same shape.  Thought about investing in one but knew I couldn't pull it off.  Yusef didn't wear the dishdasha on the hike but rather changed into shorts and a t-shirt.  The transformation from one to the other was jarring, so took a photo of him in that too.

On the ride back to Muscat, we were treated  to a sunset that turned the mountains a fiery red.

As I use this space as a travel guide and often share entries of places with people that are going to spots we have been, feel it important to list the things that we didn't do but would have had we the time or had heard about them before we went. 

Everyone told us to spend a night in the dessert.  You can get that uninterrupted view of the stars and learn about Omani nomads.  We consciously passed on doing that cause we have done similarly in other spots before.  I regret not doing it here cause we fell in love with the people and their culture and know we would have been filled with knowledge (and dates) had we gone.

Another thing we passed was going to the turtle reserve, which is another 45 minutes to an hour south of Wadi Shab.  All the info says that the turtles are the giant kind and not only can you swim with them but that they lay their eggs on the beaches where you can also see the babies make the life or death dash to the ocean avoiding being eaten by the birds.  Would have done that in a second, but this time of year isn't the mating season and we would have been lucky to have seen even one.

Lastly, I think a trip to the city of Salalah would have been neat.  You can fly of course but it is a 10 hour drive across the desert from Muscat and is a few miles from the border of Yemen.  Just being a few miles from the border of Yemen sounds intriguing, and a 10 hour roadtrip in deserted desert with the tunes cranked appeals to yours truly.  They have a lot of adventure things to do there and it is the one place on earth where frankincense grows. 

Maybe another time?  Seems pretty clear from writing up these notes that I really liked the place and feel certain the girls did too.  Clean, modern and safe, with a population that was not only interesting intellectually and culturally, but as friendly a group to outsiders as I've ever met while also giving off a sense of confidence and self assurance without any hint of arrogance or superiority, and natural wonders that rival most anywhere. 

Stay hydrated my friends.