only...i've decided i'm not going to eat anymore bivalved mollusks. did you know that human sewage plants don't kill the enteric viruses in poo? these viruses get into the water supply, where all these mollusks just sit around filtering tons of water to get the yummy and the yucky out of it. in fact, mollusks act as filters for the especially harmful types of norovirus (those that bind ABO glycoproteins). plus, it's not like oysters are that tasty anyways. i mean, if pigs sat around in virus infected water all day, i'd probably still eat them, but oysters are so not worth the risk.
11.19.2011
resolutions
when i started medicine, i kind of decided that i wouldn't let what i learned affect my way of life too much. yes, there are all these dangers out there, and if you hold the world up to a microscope, it's a gross place. but i've survived up to now, i'm relatively robust, and once you start avoiding the gross, where do you stop? it's all a slippery slope to bree van de camp.
5.01.2011
random thoughts about paga 21
every year, paga divides my life: pre and post. this year was better than the last in that more international friends came, so the social scene wasn't dominated by the brits (seriously, there is a herd party every weekend that is more fun/less awkward than the crown & roses drinking game scene--btw, my scale of good times is by the amount of alcohol required before you're having one. altho there is ample drinking opportunity w the herd, i find myself jolly even without the liquor). oh yeah, and the herd were there this year, yay!
but then again, this year was not as good b/c we lost in the finals to fembot ballers 13-6...i don't think they were 7 points better than us. takeaways? losing sucks. i need to get more stable on my around backhand breaks. it's ok to hold the disc for a bit before throwing...tend towards the ange.
moments for the highlight reel: i tipped a callahan to myself in the semifinals against the russians (bonus points for demoralizing the russians), i got a poach D on one of the best japanese cutters, and i got a point block on one of the main czech handlers (both for immediate conversions). nothing spectacular on O, i'm afraid...something to work on.
the rest of paga was a blur...even without copious amounts of alcohol. lets see...shenanigans in the arcades:
- we managed to top last year's elephant debacle by getting 5 people on a mechanical horse while ppl dressed as old men waved their canes at us (they then blocked up a roundabout by crossing extremely slowly..the cops got involved).
- ange and linz are, as suspected, both ace at various tabletop games (air hockey, foosball). i sucked only marginally less than neibh, who may or may not have had an injured shoulder.
otherwise:
- i ate the obligatory amounts of gelato, strazzopreti, calamari (ie LOADS)
- went for a cold dip in the mediterranean (my first)
- caught up w the asian friends (jake, jim, doc, sherry, steph & trey, who are now ENGAGED!!!), the hot lava friends (alice, minh, beth), the mit friends (lori & christy, who is now PREGNANT!!!!), and the european friends from hotpot last year.
ok, now i'm less sleepy, so will get back to studying the kidney.
4.08.2011
jon is awesome
an email description of an evening in beirut:
First along the seafront promenade – no sand but a nice broad pavement. Weirdly, no restaurants along the coast so we headed inland a bit. Lots of local street food but nothing that we were looking for. Ended up back in the fancy downtown where we had al fresco supper on cobbled streets where the leaves on knarled cedar trees, dappled by subtle illumination, chewed at the sandstone pillars on archways between which were interleaved domes of mosques and spires of churches, such are the perpetual emblems of a once war-torn city.
Or, if you would prefer that description in a more Hemingway-esque style:
“Hi,” I said.
“… Oh”, he replied.
“…,” I paused.
“How about a drink?”
“Hey,” I replied.
4.07.2011
How do you get 2 whales in a car?
*on the motorway, dummy.--ok, so it doesn't really work in print, but if you don't get it, try saying it allowed.
Paul dropped into the UK for a brief stint while his brother Andrew sits on a panel at the Skoll Foundation Conference in Oxford. I met him for lunch at Mai sushi on Monday (I ate, he nibbled) before heading out to Swansea for 3 days.
i love stuffing my friends full of good food, but it's troublesome when friends visit from areas with better food than London (eg HK, cali, nyc, chicago, basically almost everywhere), so it was a huge relief when Paul revealed that he'd been in Africa for the last couple of weeks. Jackpot! Recently returned 3rd world travelers are so low maintenance and grateful for everything. he was bound to be impressed, and sure enough, cornish pasties knocked him off his feet. furthermore, when we first got into our hotel room in swansea, paul peeked into the bathroom and said: "wow, lily, have you seen this shower?!" um, yes, paul, it sprouts hot water when you turn it on. i totally get where he's coming from though...after mbita, my biggest joys were running water & real pillows.
that first night in swansea, we walked to our hotel and then went to mcD's to get a "snack"...
paul: "wanna share some chicken nuggets?"
me: "no"
paul (to cashier): "i'll have the 20 piece chicken nuggets, please."
needless to say, that snack ended up being our dinner, especially after i won a free apple pie to wash down the mozzarella sticks, chicken fingers, & french fries. ah, the beginning of our foray into brown colored foods. also, can we all just agree that orange fizzy fanta tastes better from mcdonalds? i don't know if it's the dispenser, the straw, the cup or what, but fanta in a can should be called can't (har har).
the next morning, we caught a bus to rhossili of worm's head fame. we got there too late to walk all the way out onto the peninsula, but we got far enough for paul to pee in the ocean and for me to play w the shells that completely covered all the rocks...it was like walking on, well, a slippery, mossy, mollusky chunk of rock (yes, i know, you're dumbfounded by my creativity).
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
after watching the ocean drown the rocks, we took in a fairly overpriced lunch at a sea-side restaurant and caught a bus to another stretch of shoreline, upon which we hiked to oxwich castle.
- lots of nice views of the beach (paul showed his appreciation for the prettiest ones by pissing from them, although they were invariably too far for him to hit the water).
- a rope down a steep path that allowed us to "rappel" down to the beach, where we found a homemade lobster trap (we think) & a very dead rabbit.
From swansea mar 2011 
From swansea mar 2011 - a troop of ponies that galloped down to our bit of grass. the beautiful white one was heavily pregnant and thus shy, but a black one snuffled all over my R4 looking for treats (paul fled to the background and mumbled something about not wanting to be eaten).
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
- a wildfire that the firemen were having trouble approaching w their trunk.
- friendlier natives than the deep south (sorry, hometown, but it's true)
- lots of large dogs
- lots of hiking paths
- lots of joggers
- lots of surfers
we got to the castle just after closing, and it was deserted but accessible, which meant that paul and i could scramble all over its moldy walls without censure. awesome.
in the evening, we caught a bus back to swansea, where we found an unloved toddler's bike forlorn next to a rubbish bin. in spite of its sliding handle bars, flat tires, and miniature size, paul rode circles in the street (i managed to stay on just long enough to prove that i, too, could ride it if i so desired).
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
Dinner = lamb chops for paul, lamb cawl for me at the no sign wine bar on wind street. as w every meal, bites were interspersed w scrabble strategery.
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
the next day kicked off w a lazy trip to the dylan thomas museum, where we could listen to bbc recordings of him speaking like a preacherman and rolling is r's to beat the thunder. as paul says on his blog, half the exhibit is devoted to proving he's not a womanizing alcoholic; i contend the other half is dedicated to establishing the importance of swansea (over london & nyc) to his poetry.
then we headed to mumbles, a seaside town w a pier. i lunched on bubbles & squeak at the kitchen table, a yellow organic cafe that reminded me of tosci's. paul had eaten 2 meat pies en route, so he just sipped a (very delicious) fruit juice (beets, ginger, lemon, apple). the surfer dude owner drew us a secret map, and we hiked up to find a past place for WWII anti-aircraft guns and down to find a cheerful, red, plastic dragon slide that said "mumbles pier" (further along, seagulls nested and a plastic bikini'd gorilla lay on her back in disuse). More hiking along the coastline revealed a boat-shaped playground and a giant shaggy dog that liked to romp (to his owner's chagrin).
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
the next day, we took the train to oxford, where we sat by the river and played scrabble. i finally beat paul (1 out of 10, baby!). mags graciously let us borrow some bikes so we biked into town and made dinner w andrew before coming home to a final game of mapominos. oxford is not as pretty as cambridge, but much more accessible. oh well, i like my towns sleepy (when they're not overrun by tourists).
final impression of gower: a place i wouldn't mind retiring. it's got:
color me impressed.
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| From swansea mar 2011 |
7.12.2010
welcome to czech
a few impressions:
the tap water is cold and delicious. cold enough to be numbing after a few seconds. where does it come from? far underground? even ice seems to be scarce, and soft drinks from restaurace refrigerators are often only tinged with cold.
the architecture is amazing, but the stonework is sooty. i spent lots of time looking up at cupolas. one building near the herd house even had an iron man hanging from the neck...i wonder who he was...
the astronomical clock is mechanical! i can't believe things can work without batteries.
pork and potatoes! i'm not a fan of dumplings if they don't have fillings, but i'm for any culture that uses pig for EVERYTHING! others of my teammates weren't so chuffed.
how did we do at worlds? iceni ranked 17th, after crawling out of a very tough powerpool. we lost to hot beaches, storm, and uno, but i believe we had a shot at both hot beaches and storm. our only other loss was to chukyo university, uno's feeder team, who went on to rank 10th. in the beer bracket, we had an underwhelming performance against little miss sunshine (except by kaleigh, who made sure we won 17-10), decimated jinx 17-5 (they had earlier beat leeds), beat wildcard 17-something, and then won a nailbiter against e6 (we were down 2 breaks coming out of half, game to 13...and managed to score the last 2 points in a row).
and now we're in vienna. watched the world cup last night, and i still think soccer is ridiculous. cheaters win too often.
the tap water is cold and delicious. cold enough to be numbing after a few seconds. where does it come from? far underground? even ice seems to be scarce, and soft drinks from restaurace refrigerators are often only tinged with cold.
the architecture is amazing, but the stonework is sooty. i spent lots of time looking up at cupolas. one building near the herd house even had an iron man hanging from the neck...i wonder who he was...
the astronomical clock is mechanical! i can't believe things can work without batteries.
pork and potatoes! i'm not a fan of dumplings if they don't have fillings, but i'm for any culture that uses pig for EVERYTHING! others of my teammates weren't so chuffed.
how did we do at worlds? iceni ranked 17th, after crawling out of a very tough powerpool. we lost to hot beaches, storm, and uno, but i believe we had a shot at both hot beaches and storm. our only other loss was to chukyo university, uno's feeder team, who went on to rank 10th. in the beer bracket, we had an underwhelming performance against little miss sunshine (except by kaleigh, who made sure we won 17-10), decimated jinx 17-5 (they had earlier beat leeds), beat wildcard 17-something, and then won a nailbiter against e6 (we were down 2 breaks coming out of half, game to 13...and managed to score the last 2 points in a row).
and now we're in vienna. watched the world cup last night, and i still think soccer is ridiculous. cheaters win too often.
4.26.2010
words about words
pooja (in a broad northern accent): "you're having fun with them tah-mah-toes"
me: "haha, them tah-mah-toes..."
pooj: "what would you say? them tah-MAY-toes?"
me: "um, we wouldn't say them anything"
pooj: "ohhh THOSE tah-mah-toes"
pooja slaps herself on the hands. if only everyone could be as committed to their grammar.
another conversation:
trang: "what's that word...for when you put blood outside?"
me: "blood? outside?!"
pooj: "a scab?"
trang: "no, animal blood."
.......the word she wanted was "congeal". the conversation didn't make any more sense with context.
me: "haha, them tah-mah-toes..."
pooj: "what would you say? them tah-MAY-toes?"
me: "um, we wouldn't say them anything"
pooj: "ohhh THOSE tah-mah-toes"
pooja slaps herself on the hands. if only everyone could be as committed to their grammar.
another conversation:
trang: "what's that word...for when you put blood outside?"
me: "blood? outside?!"
pooj: "a scab?"
trang: "no, animal blood."
.......the word she wanted was "congeal". the conversation didn't make any more sense with context.
my new rule is that i will catch up when i feel like catching up, but the backlog will not stop me from writing about current events.
the weekend was eventful. friday night, si organized an outing at vibe to see ladi6. i am not hip enough to have heard of any of these things...vibe? ladi6? where the f is brick lane? but he promised me the best bagel in london, and it was within walking distance of work, so after a couple of tequila shots celebrating a colleague's bday on the green, jackie, jonnie, anne, and i traipsed off toward east london. we got distracted by some thai food, but we made it eventually, and the venue was great, the cider delicious, the music meh (apparently it got a lot better after jon and i left...pffft).
saturday featured a 3hour 8am partybus trip to bristol for some scrimmaging. we lost in game point to leeds leeds leeds. d line had some (read: a lot) of trouble converting, but we did manage to get some d's. the o line looked like a machine (well-oiled and all that). i took that night pretty easy, but some of the girls had a big night out at people's republik (the plan was to eventually get to inferno's, but ppl's r is like the blackhole of nights out). sunday started with dimsum, followed by a 2 hours skills session in hyde park at which whit kakos made a surprise appearance (yay!), and then...it took me 1.5 hours to get home thanks to the northern line closure (which seems a bit daft on marathon weekend), and as soon as i got home, we remember that the parkway drive concert we thought was on monday was actually on sunday...so that's another hour journey back into town for some hardcore metal.
i highly recommend going to a metal concert in a smallish venue. the energy is fantastic, and watching teenage boys flail like berserker never gets old. the first time i saw a circle pit, i thought it had formed spontaneously, but i eventually cottoned on to the fact that the band was calling it. it's a bit like square dancing actually...the band will say, "circle pit!" and the room will turn into a cyclone of bodies, or they'll say "split the room!" and the boys will flood to opposite sides, and on the count of four, they all throw themselves at each other, crashing like waves in the middle. winamp should create a new graphical sound visualization...instead of those bars going up and down, it'd use skinny teenagers bouncing off each other.
we saw 4 or 5 different bands, culminating in parkway drive, which was the most normal and likeable one. they seemed to genuinely enjoy being there in front of an audience and rocking out. the lead singer was so pleased that the audience knew enough words to sing along that he grinned like a kid. it's nice to see a band that isn't jaded with the rockstar lifestyle yet, and they weren't afraid to incorporate some melodic guitar bits in amongst the killer fast bits. the other groups were a bit older, a bit muscley (in a "i've just gotten out of prison way"), and way more tat'd up.
going home after the show was a bit of an adventure. although british people are normally all for queueing, british people straight out of a metal concert try to squeeze as many people as possible simultaneously through the train doors. i was carried through by the 3 hyper-aggressive boys behind me, all the while apologizing to the guy in front of me whom i was pressed up against. once we were all on the train, we discovered that it wasn't even crowded--we all got seats. what melodrama! arrived home to a very affectionate cat. and that, in a nutshell, was the weekend.
next weekend, jon's going to brussels on a roadtrip with doug and family...i'm staying home to cat-sit.
the weekend was eventful. friday night, si organized an outing at vibe to see ladi6. i am not hip enough to have heard of any of these things...vibe? ladi6? where the f is brick lane? but he promised me the best bagel in london, and it was within walking distance of work, so after a couple of tequila shots celebrating a colleague's bday on the green, jackie, jonnie, anne, and i traipsed off toward east london. we got distracted by some thai food, but we made it eventually, and the venue was great, the cider delicious, the music meh (apparently it got a lot better after jon and i left...pffft).
saturday featured a 3hour 8am partybus trip to bristol for some scrimmaging. we lost in game point to leeds leeds leeds. d line had some (read: a lot) of trouble converting, but we did manage to get some d's. the o line looked like a machine (well-oiled and all that). i took that night pretty easy, but some of the girls had a big night out at people's republik (the plan was to eventually get to inferno's, but ppl's r is like the blackhole of nights out). sunday started with dimsum, followed by a 2 hours skills session in hyde park at which whit kakos made a surprise appearance (yay!), and then...it took me 1.5 hours to get home thanks to the northern line closure (which seems a bit daft on marathon weekend), and as soon as i got home, we remember that the parkway drive concert we thought was on monday was actually on sunday...so that's another hour journey back into town for some hardcore metal.
i highly recommend going to a metal concert in a smallish venue. the energy is fantastic, and watching teenage boys flail like berserker never gets old. the first time i saw a circle pit, i thought it had formed spontaneously, but i eventually cottoned on to the fact that the band was calling it. it's a bit like square dancing actually...the band will say, "circle pit!" and the room will turn into a cyclone of bodies, or they'll say "split the room!" and the boys will flood to opposite sides, and on the count of four, they all throw themselves at each other, crashing like waves in the middle. winamp should create a new graphical sound visualization...instead of those bars going up and down, it'd use skinny teenagers bouncing off each other.
we saw 4 or 5 different bands, culminating in parkway drive, which was the most normal and likeable one. they seemed to genuinely enjoy being there in front of an audience and rocking out. the lead singer was so pleased that the audience knew enough words to sing along that he grinned like a kid. it's nice to see a band that isn't jaded with the rockstar lifestyle yet, and they weren't afraid to incorporate some melodic guitar bits in amongst the killer fast bits. the other groups were a bit older, a bit muscley (in a "i've just gotten out of prison way"), and way more tat'd up.
going home after the show was a bit of an adventure. although british people are normally all for queueing, british people straight out of a metal concert try to squeeze as many people as possible simultaneously through the train doors. i was carried through by the 3 hyper-aggressive boys behind me, all the while apologizing to the guy in front of me whom i was pressed up against. once we were all on the train, we discovered that it wasn't even crowded--we all got seats. what melodrama! arrived home to a very affectionate cat. and that, in a nutshell, was the weekend.
next weekend, jon's going to brussels on a roadtrip with doug and family...i'm staying home to cat-sit.
11.06.2009
ziggy
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| From ziggy stardust 10-09 |
jon and i are moving tomorrow to balham (yay). in the meantime, world, meet ziggy stardust, wondercat extraordinaire. hobbies include chasing tampons, playing with pearls, walking across keyboards, and teddybear wrestling. thanks to him, i now spend WAY to much time curled up on the couch.
7.29.2009
back to the grind
it's my second day of work today, which for me, means getting back to a routine, finding more reading material for the tube (stat!), learning to use a mac, and giving up my daytime tv (b/c all my tv channels are owned by the british gov, there are always pairs of stations that play the same thing: e4, e4+1, channel 4, channel 4 + 1, virgin, virgin+1, etc etc. as you can imagine, the +1's just play the same programming an hour later. i've been known to watch the same gilmore girls episode 2 hours in a row. their quirky gab is irresistable (and infinitely preferable to the unscripted gobbledygook of big brother). for you, it probably means more frequent blog posts.
and all that is to say that work is boring. always. i had dinner with philipp, my boss at credit suisse last night, and i found out that i don't miss it. not the politics. not the ass kissing. and definitely not...hmmm...did i mention politics? legally, i'm not allowed to work yet (shhhh!), which is to say, i'm not getting paid. ooof. and even when i do get paid, it will be measily compared to my last salary. but meh, i can't live on the $10 daily allowance that jon's giving me. i'm just not that low maintenance (and public transport costs a pair of limbs in london). so for now, i'm working 3 days a week, not getting paid, and hoping that eventually, i'll get a spousal visa for the uk. until then, who knows.
7.16.2009
mombasa
we stayed at ash's mom's timeshare resort, which had its ups and downs. the luxury was refreshing--private bathrooms, air con, mosquito nets, but it felt like a resort in florida, not africa. people were there with their families, old ppl populated the pool...and we were warned in the orientation meeting to stay away from the beach boys. so, the typical resort experience was very sterile. you flew in, got picked up at the airport, and joined the water aerobics and putt putt sessions. but we had our own car. we were free to go as we pleased. still, it was depressing to see the masai huddled in the tennis court, roasting in the sun as old tourists in sunhats picked thru their trinkets. watching the tribal dancers brought in for a post-dinner show felt very voyeuristic. they rumbled in, gyrating to local gods, while we sat sipping colorful drinks and clapping politely. maybe if we could've joined them in their ritual...but just watching, knowing they had been paid to come in, well, it was unsavory...like we had displaced their gods and they were dancing to us. dirty.
most of the time we lounged at the pool or the beach. the beach wasn't nearly as nice as zanzibar's. in low tide, there were miles of not quite beach...mucky black sucky sand and pools of brackish water. to get anywhere swimmable required walking over a mile out. we did manage to squeeze in a very nice beach walk with the beach boys (who prefer to be called beach operators to escape the sexual griminess associated with the term beach boy). they showed us lots of interesting sea life (urchins, starfish, slugs), and took us to a coral rock pool that was deep enough to dive into. we brought snorkeling equipment and got a nice peek at the stripey fish that huddled in the coral to escape the surf. i did an ok job of not getting bashed into the coral, but i think erika got scratched up pretty badly. she bruises like a peach, that one.
and then we ran into mika, mika, and morgan! what are the chances? small world, all that jazz. i mean, i understand that most travelers thru africa follow the lonely planet, but we were off the path beaten down by backpackers. we were in a posh timeshare resort...and so were mika, mika, and morgan, courtesy of mika's mom, as a honeymoon gift to mika (the other one) and morgan. not only where they in the same resort, they were in the room right next to ours, which came in handy when we locked ourselves out and had to break in via our balcony.
remembering that mika's dad is a mechanic, we had him look at our car, which translated into driving the car to market with a carload of ppl, which meant that i got to ride on the roof :-D. i've always wanted to ride the roof of a 4x4, and what better place to do it than africa, where my safety was no one's concern but mine. we bumped along the dirt road as i held on for dear life to the roof rack. when we got to the major road, we sped up, turned up the kings of leon, and i leaned into the wind and took advantage of the speed bumps to wave at the catcallers who yelled, "hey cheeeeena!". FREEDOM!
that night, we bought some prawns from the beach boys and made ash's spicy red prawn curry, along with garlic+lemon stringbeans, and a huge cucumber, tomato, avocado salad. as usual, we made way too much food, but luckily, gerwin was stoned off his face, so we put away a good deal of it. the ants had their way with the leftovers.
Another memorable meal was when we got the beach boys to throw us a moonlight seafood bbq. to be honest, they oversold it a bit, promising us lobster, kingprawns, fish, and crabs and delivering only octopus, barracuda, and prawns, but the home made coconut wine, the excellent curry, and the great ambiance under the stars made up for everything. i told them i liked sea urchin, so they picked a few of those for me too. we literally cracked them open and ate them raw...which was sandy and salty, and not quite the uni-like experience i had hoped for. did i mention the curry was to die for?
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
most of the time we lounged at the pool or the beach. the beach wasn't nearly as nice as zanzibar's. in low tide, there were miles of not quite beach...mucky black sucky sand and pools of brackish water. to get anywhere swimmable required walking over a mile out. we did manage to squeeze in a very nice beach walk with the beach boys (who prefer to be called beach operators to escape the sexual griminess associated with the term beach boy). they showed us lots of interesting sea life (urchins, starfish, slugs), and took us to a coral rock pool that was deep enough to dive into. we brought snorkeling equipment and got a nice peek at the stripey fish that huddled in the coral to escape the surf. i did an ok job of not getting bashed into the coral, but i think erika got scratched up pretty badly. she bruises like a peach, that one.
and then we ran into mika, mika, and morgan! what are the chances? small world, all that jazz. i mean, i understand that most travelers thru africa follow the lonely planet, but we were off the path beaten down by backpackers. we were in a posh timeshare resort...and so were mika, mika, and morgan, courtesy of mika's mom, as a honeymoon gift to mika (the other one) and morgan. not only where they in the same resort, they were in the room right next to ours, which came in handy when we locked ourselves out and had to break in via our balcony.
remembering that mika's dad is a mechanic, we had him look at our car, which translated into driving the car to market with a carload of ppl, which meant that i got to ride on the roof :-D. i've always wanted to ride the roof of a 4x4, and what better place to do it than africa, where my safety was no one's concern but mine. we bumped along the dirt road as i held on for dear life to the roof rack. when we got to the major road, we sped up, turned up the kings of leon, and i leaned into the wind and took advantage of the speed bumps to wave at the catcallers who yelled, "hey cheeeeena!". FREEDOM!
that night, we bought some prawns from the beach boys and made ash's spicy red prawn curry, along with garlic+lemon stringbeans, and a huge cucumber, tomato, avocado salad. as usual, we made way too much food, but luckily, gerwin was stoned off his face, so we put away a good deal of it. the ants had their way with the leftovers.
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
Another memorable meal was when we got the beach boys to throw us a moonlight seafood bbq. to be honest, they oversold it a bit, promising us lobster, kingprawns, fish, and crabs and delivering only octopus, barracuda, and prawns, but the home made coconut wine, the excellent curry, and the great ambiance under the stars made up for everything. i told them i liked sea urchin, so they picked a few of those for me too. we literally cracked them open and ate them raw...which was sandy and salty, and not quite the uni-like experience i had hoped for. did i mention the curry was to die for?
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
6.29.2009
pui, 13 going on 30
i have a very special friend named pui, and this post is dedicated to her. if she reads this, she will surely kill me for hinting that she is 30 yrs old, so let me quickly add that she's actually in her mid 20's somewhere.this weekend, pui tripped down to wimbledon with her brother and the tickets her brother's brokers got them. after the match, pui joined a queue of 10 yr olds with her oversized tennis ball to get andy roddick's autograph. in an attempt to be cool, pui decided to tell these 10 yr olds that she is 13 yrs old. i guess white ppl really can't tell how old asians are, b/c these kids believed her. i mean, she's kinda short, but i'm willing to bet she hasn't been carded in a bar in ages. maybe it's true what they say about kids growing up way too fast.
i can just imagine pui standing in a line of prepubescent kids, giggling and flirting, delving into their young minds for their autograph acquiring secrets. one boy was so taken by her that he claimed he was a pro:
Pui: well they knew the tricks to getting autographs!!!!
this kid was like just follow me
10:36 AM cos you have to sprint up and down to get to the player
and this kid said he got justin timberlakes autograph!!
poor kid. fathers, lock up your sons and daughters. this pui will do anything for her tennis ball.
10:39 AM Pui: hv you seen my big big tennis ball
it's my pride and joy
yes of course, pui. anything you say.
and of course, the photo is of pui at the US open. her wimbledon picks have not come out yet.
6.26.2009
driving to mombasa
now that even laura is beating me to posts, i'm gonna get on my horse. but don't get too excited. the horse is really just a fat, slow, three-legged donkey.
the drive from dar es salaam to mombasa was supposed to take 5 hours, but when has africa ever followed a schedule, especially my schedule? so it was over 12 hours of cramped riding, sitting in the hump seat with my feet wedged amongst bags, the largest drum i could've ever bought squeezed between my knees. i mean, there were so many small manageable drums, but no, i had to buy the monster. and to top it off, the ignition would randomly shut off after every couple of minutes, which not only made driving nerve wrecking, but also rendered it impossible to listen to any type of music. we had to stop the car every half hour to let the engine cool off, and we were afraid to push the thing past 40kmph.
we managed to make it to the kenyan border before the customs office closed. everything went pretty smoothly, until simon left the keys inside the car, and the car locked itself automatically.
luckily, they keep a spare inside the tent on the roof.
the stretch of road on the west coast of kenya isn't the safest, and once it got dark, driving a wonky car became all the scarier. the empty road was pitch black except for whatever light our headlights cast. every time we stopped, i was sure some car would come careening out of the unknown to sideswipe us, and gerwin insisted on getting out of the car from the driverside to open the hood. has the boy never seen meet joe black? yeesh. one car passed us at speed, and then backed up until it was directly in front of us. while it was drawing near, ash was entreating gerwin to drive away. just drive, just drive, just drive. who knew what the car wanted from us, and with all of us wedged in like sardines...even running would've been hard. the man from the car turned out to be just a good samaritan. he had stopped to tell us that it wasn't safe to stop here. we explained our car troubles, and he offered to drive behind us slowly until we got to the next town, where we could find a roadside mechanic to offer a temporary fix. i felt a tad sheepish for the melodrama, but it's easy to overreact sometimes.
we told him we couldn't break 40kmph, but i guess our car felt just as eager to get out of that spot as we did, so as soon as it started up, gerwin hit 70kmph, and we quickly lost our friend. as we got closer to mombasa, the roads got better, but our car got worse. the last 10 miles took us over an hour, and the closer we got, the slower we went. i remember thinking that i could run faster than this car.
when we finally arrived at ash's mom's timeshare resort, it was past 10pm, and we were told that the kitchen would close in another half hour. having had nothing but bananas and cokes since 6am that morning, we were starving, and boy were we glad to sit down at a nice place and eat. what an exhausting day.
the drive from dar es salaam to mombasa was supposed to take 5 hours, but when has africa ever followed a schedule, especially my schedule? so it was over 12 hours of cramped riding, sitting in the hump seat with my feet wedged amongst bags, the largest drum i could've ever bought squeezed between my knees. i mean, there were so many small manageable drums, but no, i had to buy the monster. and to top it off, the ignition would randomly shut off after every couple of minutes, which not only made driving nerve wrecking, but also rendered it impossible to listen to any type of music. we had to stop the car every half hour to let the engine cool off, and we were afraid to push the thing past 40kmph.
we managed to make it to the kenyan border before the customs office closed. everything went pretty smoothly, until simon left the keys inside the car, and the car locked itself automatically.
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
the stretch of road on the west coast of kenya isn't the safest, and once it got dark, driving a wonky car became all the scarier. the empty road was pitch black except for whatever light our headlights cast. every time we stopped, i was sure some car would come careening out of the unknown to sideswipe us, and gerwin insisted on getting out of the car from the driverside to open the hood. has the boy never seen meet joe black? yeesh. one car passed us at speed, and then backed up until it was directly in front of us. while it was drawing near, ash was entreating gerwin to drive away. just drive, just drive, just drive. who knew what the car wanted from us, and with all of us wedged in like sardines...even running would've been hard. the man from the car turned out to be just a good samaritan. he had stopped to tell us that it wasn't safe to stop here. we explained our car troubles, and he offered to drive behind us slowly until we got to the next town, where we could find a roadside mechanic to offer a temporary fix. i felt a tad sheepish for the melodrama, but it's easy to overreact sometimes.
we told him we couldn't break 40kmph, but i guess our car felt just as eager to get out of that spot as we did, so as soon as it started up, gerwin hit 70kmph, and we quickly lost our friend. as we got closer to mombasa, the roads got better, but our car got worse. the last 10 miles took us over an hour, and the closer we got, the slower we went. i remember thinking that i could run faster than this car.
when we finally arrived at ash's mom's timeshare resort, it was past 10pm, and we were told that the kitchen would close in another half hour. having had nothing but bananas and cokes since 6am that morning, we were starving, and boy were we glad to sit down at a nice place and eat. what an exhausting day.
6.23.2009
to kendwa and back
before it slips away beneath the haze of amsterdam, here is the rest of zanzibar.
the morning after the spice tour, jakob, erika, and i had breakfast in a very nice coffee shop, one of the few places in east africa that roasts and grinds its own beans. the food is fantastic, but the counter service left something to be desired.
After breakfast, we walked briefly by the market, where we saw huge rays and tuna, before finding a dala dala to take us to the beach.
the dala dalas park at the front of the market. each car has touts running around, trying to recruit western tourists. they start with 5000 shilling a head, but for that, we could've gotten a private taxi (there were 6 of us afterall). after threatening to walk away multiple times (to which they would tell lies such as: "the next one doesn't leave for 2 hours!" or "you can't take that bus, it is dangerous and dirty."--let me tell you, there is nothing less comfy/safe/clean than a dala dala, except maybe a boda boda, which is the motorcycle taxi that got us around uganda), we finally got on for the local price of 2000 shilling each. yes, we only managed to save around $1.50 per person, but it's the principle.
the outside of these things say that they take 13 passengers, but we crammed in over 20 ppl, and i think maybe a goat or two on the roof.
Like most forms of road transport in africa, the ride was bumpy, dusty, crowded, and hot. unfortunately, i also happened to have a full-milk cappuccino sloshing in my stomach, fighting to see daylight with every pothole. when we finally emerged from the dark car into the burning noon sun, we still had about a kilometer to walk before we'd hit the beach. it doesn't sound like a lot...but nauseated, sleep deprived, and carrying bags, i found it interminable.
after getting settled, i went on an impromptu fishing trip. the locals took us on a wooden skip, gave us string attached to wooden blocks, and baited our hooks with fresh squid. we sat for what seemed like hours, our feet dragging in the water, almost able to see all the way thru the clear water to where our hooks scraped the bottom. even so, the fish were too smart for me. i'd respond to all these nibbles (both imagined and real), pulling my line up every couple of minutes. every once in a while, my piece of squid will have gone. the locals managed to snag a fish every couple of minutes. color me frustrated.
and then our 2 bit motor died, leaving us drifting on the strong current. i was pretty much over this fishing trip. and when the guy tried to charge me more than we agreed to, i pretty much lost it a little, which, in retrospect, was not good, b/c then he turned all rasta and zen, and i felt pretty shitty. oh well. tomorrow would be better.
the next morning, j+e+i went on a full day snorkelling trip. i was wary of being stuck on a boat again, but this one had a sail, more talkative skippers, and refreshments on board.
the water was, as always, amazingly clear. we must've seen 10 shades of blue. the snorkeling itself was so-so. zanzibar's history of dynamite fishing and omnivorous eating had depleted the waters. still an ok assortment of fish, but not nearly as stunning as i would've expected given the visibility of the water.
we took turns jumping off the top deck and the mast. jakob's fancy camera took such good action shots that it almost felt like cheating.
when we'd gotten our fill of snorkeling and swimming, we waded to shore with our bags on our heads. the chef had prepared a bbq tuna lunch on a wood fire in the sand. it was a simple meal of fish rubbed in salt, chilis, and lime, with sides of tomato relish, boiled rice, and fresh fruit. having asked for avocados in the bargaining phase of the trip (when i still thought it was a private trip for just the three of us), i got my own plate of avocados. i felt awkward nibbling away on my private stash when there were 20some ppl sitting around us...but meh, they tasted good anyways, especially after sitting in a frisbee full of seawater.
he's not actually jumping that much higher than i am, but he jumped a second later, so while he's just reaching his peak, i'm already on my way down. this is the only photo where we're both in the air. yes, i feel the need to justify my aerial.
on our way home, we sighted a pair of dolphins in the distance. we didn't harass them as is the tradition in these parts, but it was a nice surprise anyways. apparently, i was worn out, b/c i napped on the top deck for the entire ride back.
when we got back, we found the others lounging in the hammocks, sipping on beers. we went out for a local group dinner, during which jakob defined shwaffling for us, and in return, lucy defined dogging, and rupert defined a fruit basket. thanks guys, i wouldn't have been complete without it.
the next day we did nothing much (finally!), basking in the sand and cooling off in the water. the fake masai and the locals all have art stands with italian names. italian tourism is big in the area. the local boys greeted us with ciaos.
in the evening, the whole group walked to nungwi, the closest resort. it's not a long walk, but because of the high tide, we had to do some impressive bushwhacking and wall-scaling.
i very nearly impaled my thigh on an iron rod, but someone warned me just in the nick of time.
we spent a lot of time wandering in and out of shops, buying artwork, trinkets, hats. when you've got a group of 8, it may take 2 hours to get ppl to head towards a restaurant for dinner. at any point in time, 3 ppl would say, "i'm hungry, let's go!", stand around waiting for about 10 minutes, and then wander off into the nearest trinket stand, b/c hey, if i'm gonna wait, might as well window shop! the only thing that saved us was the snack shop (pictured above), which had a tv in the corner showing an early jackie chan flick (might've been drunken master). it had english subtitles and jackie still sported a bruce lee wannabee haircut. highly amusing, and more importantly, had immense sticking power towards willful tourists. before you knew it, practically the entire group had congregated in front of the tv, along with a group of locals, and we were all cheering jackie on.
Dinner was good but unremarkable seafood. the only memorable bits were simon's stupid comments about the prayer calls, simon calling jakob gay after simon ordered a girly umbrella drink, jakob's awesome goat joke, and the hostile cats that prowled the floors.
After dinner, jakob and i bought more munchies (we each had two chocolate bars and a stack of cookies, plus the two cans of pringles i had bought earlier). the others had found a pretty cool bar with a huge bonfire. it also had a motorcycle hanging in a tree (how'd it get there?!) and a wooden plank swing hanging from the same tree. jakob and i must've spent the next hour staring into the fire and double fisting our food. we took eating very seriously. didn't say a word, didn't crack a smile, just one hand after the other. left hand for pringles, right hand for cookies. altho the pringles made me very thirsty, i couldn't take a break to drink water. i kept thinking that alternating the flavors would cure it. erika must've been bored out of her wits. we snapped out of it when we ran out of pringles. it was around 1 am when we three took a cab back to the dorms. the others stayed until 7am, but they had a pretty rough time of it.
simon fell asleep on one of the hammocks and lost his sunglasses. he caught some dude walking off with his hat and chased him to get it back.
rupert may have been date raped. he was walking with ash when he wandered off to find a loo. ash couldn't find him for 40 minutes. she asked everyone if they saw him, finally seeing him walk up the beach holding the hand of a local girl. when she saw ash and lucy approaching, she ran off, then ran back to him, and ran off again. he was completely groggy and didn't remember a thing. then they discovered that his wallet was gone. they combed the beach for 2 hours, looking for his wallet, but when they tried to retrace his steps, they found he couldn't remember what he'd done or where he'd been. he kept sitting down on the sand and saying, "was i here? i don't remember being here..." poor rupert was so freaked out. they never did find his wallet, but it didn't have much in it (he had spent all his cash on souvenirs before dinner), and he was going home in a few days anyways. the weirdest thing is that they had only been doing shots from the bar, so either the bar staff was in on it, or someone had slipped something into rupert's drink between the time that they got the shots and the time that they downed them. sketchy...
the next morning, our little group was in pretty rough shape. erika and i went for a run on the beach to sweat out some of the pringles. between jumping over the fishing tethers, we wove in and out of the water to try and cool off a bit. a bevy of white domed buildings clustered like eggs to our left. local children in tattered shirts threw us the odd "ciao".
a couple of us walked to the next resort for lunch. some nice south african ladies on our snorkel cruise recommended their tuna with chef sauce. delicious indeed.
we enjoyed our last few hours walking on the beach, and somewhere along the way, we found a monkey chained to a tree. he's very agile, but if you let him perch on you while he eats, be prepared to be splattered by half-chewed banana.
goodbyes are always sad. rupert, lucy, and jakob would be going back to the UK after zanzibar, while erika, ash, simon, gerwin, and i would drive up to mombasa in their 4x4. but first, we still needed to get back to stone town. jakob almost left his passport at reception, yelling "HOLY MOLY" with the accents on all the wrong syllables in a heavy german accent. and then, the taxi driver that we thought was the guy who arranged the ride back with us wasn't the taxi driver who arranged the ride back, so he wanted to charge us more (story of my life). but since he was nice and it was a genuine mix up, we met somewhere in the middle. i mean, at least we weren't on another dala dala.
on the way, large buses kept passing us at breakneck pace. apparently, these are the staff buses that ferry staff between their homes in stone town and their work in beach resorts. there are only 2 buses to take 3 loads of people, so one of the buses must double back and make 2 journeys, which is like tacking on an extra 3 hours of work for the driver. the idiotic policy is that the first bus to arrive in stone town doesn't have to go back, so the buses race to be first. by the way they were driving, you'd think they were being chased by someone with an uzi. swerving between lanes, edging each other out, i've only ever seen driving like that in movies. the weirdest bit is looking back to see this maniac vehicle bearing down on you, and then seeing the expressionless muslim women in burqas bouncing along. they must believe in god to travel like that.
we spent their last few hours in stone town shopping for more souvenirs.
rupert looks like a war child. he actually went to a public school that allowed hunting-with-beagles as a p.e. choice. if that didn't float your boat, you could also do sailing/fencing/other posh "sports" (the kind of sports that ralph lauren develops their sportswear line for).
the next day, erika and i spent our last stone town moments eating with nadine and taking pictures, buying spices.
lunch was at archipelago, one of the best seafood restaurants i've ever been in. prices are reasonable, the view is amazing, and the food to die for. i've never been a fan of octopus, but the waiter recommended it, so what the heck. i don't know how they did it, but the octopus practicallly melted in my mouth. not chewy at all. delightful!
that evening, we rejoined ash, simon, and gerwin at mercury (named after freddie mercury of queen fame, who was born in zanzibar) before boarding our night ferry for dar es salaam. they had bought return tickets thru a sketchy guy named ali (who ripped them off in various ways) in dar for the flying horse, whereas we had bought tickets the night before for the seagull, which we were told is the only ferry running. trouble. long story short, they bullshitted their way thru 5 security checks with the wrong tickets before being stopped at the gangplank by the manager of the boat, who made them go all the way back to the office at the eleventh hour to buy tickets for this boat. none of ash's sweet talk about the evil man who ripped them off did any good, but he did upgrade all of us to first class at no extra cost in sympathy to our plight. and thank god.
by the time we got on the boat, the steerage was completely full with ppl and their prayer rugs sprawled out all over the aisles. it was like nap time in communist china: standing room only. even the outside decks were full to overflowing. i guess ppl aren't afraid of rolling in their sleep. we picked our way up the stairs to first class, where the seats were mercifully empty, the air was air conditioned, and a big screen tv was playing THE ROCK (with nicholas cage). i even got my own row of seats to stretch out on. bliss. the rocking of the boat put me right to sleep, and when i woke up, it was 6am in dar. first mission, find ali and kick his ass.
just kidding, but we did run into ali after packing the car (a monumental feat in itself--we were so hungry that we broke open a coconut and gnawed out the hard insides). he took us back to his office, and after a lot of negotiating, some of which involved a plain clothes police man, he gave them back all of the money he had ripped off them (eg, the phantom deposit for booking a hotel which the hotel never saw, the extra commission he took on their tickets, a total refund for the flying horse return tickets). he was very afraid of that police man, and after he threw us the last 40,000 shillings with the words, "get out and don't give me any trouble", we booked it out of town lest he give us any more trouble. lesson learned: always buy tickets from the official ticket desk, never from agents. and thus, the zanzibar leg of our trip was behind us.
the morning after the spice tour, jakob, erika, and i had breakfast in a very nice coffee shop, one of the few places in east africa that roasts and grinds its own beans. the food is fantastic, but the counter service left something to be desired.
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
After breakfast, we walked briefly by the market, where we saw huge rays and tuna, before finding a dala dala to take us to the beach.
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| From zanzibar |
the dala dalas park at the front of the market. each car has touts running around, trying to recruit western tourists. they start with 5000 shilling a head, but for that, we could've gotten a private taxi (there were 6 of us afterall). after threatening to walk away multiple times (to which they would tell lies such as: "the next one doesn't leave for 2 hours!" or "you can't take that bus, it is dangerous and dirty."--let me tell you, there is nothing less comfy/safe/clean than a dala dala, except maybe a boda boda, which is the motorcycle taxi that got us around uganda), we finally got on for the local price of 2000 shilling each. yes, we only managed to save around $1.50 per person, but it's the principle.
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| From zanzibar |
the outside of these things say that they take 13 passengers, but we crammed in over 20 ppl, and i think maybe a goat or two on the roof.
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| From zanzibar |
Like most forms of road transport in africa, the ride was bumpy, dusty, crowded, and hot. unfortunately, i also happened to have a full-milk cappuccino sloshing in my stomach, fighting to see daylight with every pothole. when we finally emerged from the dark car into the burning noon sun, we still had about a kilometer to walk before we'd hit the beach. it doesn't sound like a lot...but nauseated, sleep deprived, and carrying bags, i found it interminable.
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| From zanzibar |
after getting settled, i went on an impromptu fishing trip. the locals took us on a wooden skip, gave us string attached to wooden blocks, and baited our hooks with fresh squid. we sat for what seemed like hours, our feet dragging in the water, almost able to see all the way thru the clear water to where our hooks scraped the bottom. even so, the fish were too smart for me. i'd respond to all these nibbles (both imagined and real), pulling my line up every couple of minutes. every once in a while, my piece of squid will have gone. the locals managed to snag a fish every couple of minutes. color me frustrated.
and then our 2 bit motor died, leaving us drifting on the strong current. i was pretty much over this fishing trip. and when the guy tried to charge me more than we agreed to, i pretty much lost it a little, which, in retrospect, was not good, b/c then he turned all rasta and zen, and i felt pretty shitty. oh well. tomorrow would be better.
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| still enjoying the fishing trip zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| our lunch zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
when we'd gotten our fill of snorkeling and swimming, we waded to shore with our bags on our heads. the chef had prepared a bbq tuna lunch on a wood fire in the sand. it was a simple meal of fish rubbed in salt, chilis, and lime, with sides of tomato relish, boiled rice, and fresh fruit. having asked for avocados in the bargaining phase of the trip (when i still thought it was a private trip for just the three of us), i got my own plate of avocados. i felt awkward nibbling away on my private stash when there were 20some ppl sitting around us...but meh, they tasted good anyways, especially after sitting in a frisbee full of seawater.
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
he's not actually jumping that much higher than i am, but he jumped a second later, so while he's just reaching his peak, i'm already on my way down. this is the only photo where we're both in the air. yes, i feel the need to justify my aerial.
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| stocking up on munchies zanzibar |
Dinner was good but unremarkable seafood. the only memorable bits were simon's stupid comments about the prayer calls, simon calling jakob gay after simon ordered a girly umbrella drink, jakob's awesome goat joke, and the hostile cats that prowled the floors.
After dinner, jakob and i bought more munchies (we each had two chocolate bars and a stack of cookies, plus the two cans of pringles i had bought earlier). the others had found a pretty cool bar with a huge bonfire. it also had a motorcycle hanging in a tree (how'd it get there?!) and a wooden plank swing hanging from the same tree. jakob and i must've spent the next hour staring into the fire and double fisting our food. we took eating very seriously. didn't say a word, didn't crack a smile, just one hand after the other. left hand for pringles, right hand for cookies. altho the pringles made me very thirsty, i couldn't take a break to drink water. i kept thinking that alternating the flavors would cure it. erika must've been bored out of her wits. we snapped out of it when we ran out of pringles. it was around 1 am when we three took a cab back to the dorms. the others stayed until 7am, but they had a pretty rough time of it.
simon fell asleep on one of the hammocks and lost his sunglasses. he caught some dude walking off with his hat and chased him to get it back.
rupert may have been date raped. he was walking with ash when he wandered off to find a loo. ash couldn't find him for 40 minutes. she asked everyone if they saw him, finally seeing him walk up the beach holding the hand of a local girl. when she saw ash and lucy approaching, she ran off, then ran back to him, and ran off again. he was completely groggy and didn't remember a thing. then they discovered that his wallet was gone. they combed the beach for 2 hours, looking for his wallet, but when they tried to retrace his steps, they found he couldn't remember what he'd done or where he'd been. he kept sitting down on the sand and saying, "was i here? i don't remember being here..." poor rupert was so freaked out. they never did find his wallet, but it didn't have much in it (he had spent all his cash on souvenirs before dinner), and he was going home in a few days anyways. the weirdest thing is that they had only been doing shots from the bar, so either the bar staff was in on it, or someone had slipped something into rupert's drink between the time that they got the shots and the time that they downed them. sketchy...
the next morning, our little group was in pretty rough shape. erika and i went for a run on the beach to sweat out some of the pringles. between jumping over the fishing tethers, we wove in and out of the water to try and cool off a bit. a bevy of white domed buildings clustered like eggs to our left. local children in tattered shirts threw us the odd "ciao".
a couple of us walked to the next resort for lunch. some nice south african ladies on our snorkel cruise recommended their tuna with chef sauce. delicious indeed.
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
we spent their last few hours in stone town shopping for more souvenirs.
rupert looks like a war child. he actually went to a public school that allowed hunting-with-beagles as a p.e. choice. if that didn't float your boat, you could also do sailing/fencing/other posh "sports" (the kind of sports that ralph lauren develops their sportswear line for).
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
the next day, erika and i spent our last stone town moments eating with nadine and taking pictures, buying spices.
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| night market zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| day market zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| skinning a cow zanzibar |
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| skin of a cow...see the eyeball? it sees you.... zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| pomelo in the spice market zanzibar |
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| street stand food, really good. zanzibar |
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| view from archipelago zanzibar |
lunch was at archipelago, one of the best seafood restaurants i've ever been in. prices are reasonable, the view is amazing, and the food to die for. i've never been a fan of octopus, but the waiter recommended it, so what the heck. i don't know how they did it, but the octopus practicallly melted in my mouth. not chewy at all. delightful!
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| my octopus main zanzibar |
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| squid salad starter zanzibar |
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| erika's whole fish and nadine's king prawn curry zanzibar |
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| view from mercury zanzibar |
by the time we got on the boat, the steerage was completely full with ppl and their prayer rugs sprawled out all over the aisles. it was like nap time in communist china: standing room only. even the outside decks were full to overflowing. i guess ppl aren't afraid of rolling in their sleep. we picked our way up the stairs to first class, where the seats were mercifully empty, the air was air conditioned, and a big screen tv was playing THE ROCK (with nicholas cage). i even got my own row of seats to stretch out on. bliss. the rocking of the boat put me right to sleep, and when i woke up, it was 6am in dar. first mission, find ali and kick his ass.
just kidding, but we did run into ali after packing the car (a monumental feat in itself--we were so hungry that we broke open a coconut and gnawed out the hard insides). he took us back to his office, and after a lot of negotiating, some of which involved a plain clothes police man, he gave them back all of the money he had ripped off them (eg, the phantom deposit for booking a hotel which the hotel never saw, the extra commission he took on their tickets, a total refund for the flying horse return tickets). he was very afraid of that police man, and after he threw us the last 40,000 shillings with the words, "get out and don't give me any trouble", we booked it out of town lest he give us any more trouble. lesson learned: always buy tickets from the official ticket desk, never from agents. and thus, the zanzibar leg of our trip was behind us.
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| From zanzibar |
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| view from the house of wonders zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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| From zanzibar |
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