Jason and Mike vs. The World

Looking Back Makes You Fall Down

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 22:55:00 +0000

There is a scene in the Au Revoir, LA clip on the website in which an emotional Amy S. gives some moving advice about our then-upcoming trip. It was poorly filmed, horribly cliche, and backed by an unexpected, yet appropriately sappy soundtrack. Despite all these faults, it was a near-perfect prognostication of things to come.

"... Don't forget that this is a life-changing experience..."

In the build up to the trip, things tended to move quickly. There was three years' worth of momentum behind us that kept us moving in the same direction, and there was a lot to do to get everything ready. Early in the design phase of the trip, I had some idea of what it was we were planning. I mean, I always knew what it was, but I only had an inkling of what it actually meant. Then, as the date got closer, the excitement grew, along with the list of things to do. I always kept myself focused on the goal, without really realizing why I was reaching for it. In essence, I had forgotten about the why, or, at least, I was ignoring it. I was so focused on the how, I just didn't have the time for anything else.

Even if I had truly sat down to think about what this trip was going to mean to me, I doubt the words life-changing would have crossed my mind. Somehow, Amy knew better...

"... you guys are so excited that you're doing it, yet you have no idea what's going to happen..."

We tried not to over-plan things. We made very few reservations in advance, and had almost no hard dates. The "plan" was just to be in certain areas of the world around general dates. Just get there, throw ourselves in, and let the fates determine our course. Even the few places we did have plans for remained a mystery. Just because we knew that we were going to be Antarctica for New Years' Eve doesn't mean that we knew what was going to happen, or even what we were supposed to do once we got there.

This was a bit tricky in the beginning. When we first landed in Estonia, I remember feeling so lost. We stepped off of the plane, and there we were, in our first truly foreign country. After three years of waiting, and saving, and organizing... we were finally at our destination. No dates, no responsibilities; just exploration. Life was wide open in front of me, and all I could think was, "What the fuck are we going to do for the next 12 months?".

"... it really changed your lives. It made you who you are..."

When people ask me to sum up my experience during the trip, my most common response is, "I've never learned so much in one year." Short, and entirely accurate.

Before the trip, the world really was a mystery to me. I mean, I knew a reasonable amount about my friends and family, and the few locations and cultures in which they chose to reside, but the vast majority of the world was just a grey fog to me. I knew all of the required pieces of trivia, but they didn't fit together to make a whole story. During the trip, that changed.

And it wasn't just that I learned a whole new set of trivia. Although I did read quite a few history books, and I've now walked tens of miles through museums of all sorts, that isn't really the kind of knowledge I'm talking about. I'm talking about the kind of knowledge that you glean from being in a country, sitting down in a cafe, or taking the bus, and just seeing how shit works. Sometimes it was familiar, sometimes it was strange; sometimes it was ugly... but, every step of the way, it really opened my eyes. It's hard to describe, but I just feel much more aware of breadth of human experience. And, more importantly, I learned exactly how little I knew before, and how much more there is to figure out.

"... and you'll remember how much people loved you before you went..."

I didn't realize how much I had missed my friends and family until I get back to the States. During the actual trip, there was always so much to do and see. With so many new destinations on the horizon, it was easy to keep home out of the mind. But, once I landed back on US soil, and I started seeing those familiar faces again, it all hit me. I couldn't wait to see everybody.

I spent a few months traveling around the US and reconnecting with many of the people I hadn't seen in over a year. The entire time I was doing this, I knew that I wanted to try living in Buenos Aires, but I kept putting it off, and putting it off. It was just so comfortable to be back in the States, seeing all of those people that I had lost for over a year. Eventually, I basically had to force myself to move to Argentina.

And it didn't stick.

I'm back in California now, a bit further south, in sunny San Diego. Another lesson that I learned on the trip was to appreciate the ones that I love.

"... It will be just the best thing ever you could do for yourselves..."

I used to think that going to Caltech was the best choice I had made in life. But, I think the OC has forced a tie, if not a complete coup. It was simple in concept, and slightly more complicated in execution, but it far exceeded any of the expectations I had. I went into it somewhat blindly, just hoping to have "a good time", as ephemeral as that goal can be. And I did have some good times, along with some embarrassing times, some frustrating times, some exhausting times, and even a few frightening ones. But, ultimately, what I'm taking from this trip isn't just the memory of a few good times. It's the fact that because of the OC, I'm a little bit closer to knowing exactly what it is I'm supposed to be doing here.

Also, take the fucking photograph, niggah.

ps... Just because it's my blog, and I can, I want to give a shout-out to Mike. I was initially a bit surprised that he wanted to do this trip with me, and, historically, we've never really been BFF, but I can't imagine anyone better to have experienced this thing with. Despite his penchant for belligerence, embarrassing behavior, and heart-wrenching hangovers (or, perhaps, because of these things), he was the perfect traveling companion. Endlessly courageous and persistent, he kept the OC moving at times when I would have been perfectly happy sitting on my hands, or just catching the bus with the other tourists.

What I Learned on My Summer Vacation

noreply@blogger.com (Mik3) — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 22:52:00 +0000

While in the world's largest inland swamp, we were fortunate to meet a family from Sweden. They impressed not just because of their easy going demeanor, cosmopolitan background, excellent sense of humor, and adventurous choice in family vacations. They were also superb conversationalists, mostly because they asked good questions. This is one skill that I have definitely not developed. I tend to think of a nice chat as more an opportunity to speak than to listen, probably because I have so many intelligent, well thought out things to say.

One question in particular caught me off guard. Momma Swede asked what it was that I had learned about myself during the first 8 months of The OC. I have spent a lot of time writing in this blog about things that I have learned about the world, but rarely do I consider what I may have learned about me. It seems that my level of introspection is roughly equal to my level of modesty. The following is an effort to record whatever insights I have gained into self during the year of the OC.

Lesson 1 - I do not need much luxury to be happy. The OC only roughed it for periods of days at a time, but I see no reason why I could not live in a hut and bathe in a stream for periods of years. Seeing the way the world really lives has left me feeling a bit awed and embarrassed by the largesse of the West. We spend a lot of time cleaning things that are clean enough and expanding homes that do not need new features. All this luxury seems symptomatic of skewed goals. I call for less DIY and more time with family and friends. Furthermore, possessions are a giant pain in the ass. Unless you can pay somebody else to maintain something, it probably isn't worth owning.

Lesson 2 - I am at my best in situations that require immediate action. That is not to say that I can not make and execute a plan, but it is to say that I really shine when I am thinking exclusively on my feet. A large part of this is the willingness to make immediate decisions with the expectation that some of them will be wrong. I only feel paralyzed by choice when I have a long time to think. I reckon I might be a good low-level military officer, as they are put into situations where making a decision immediately is almost more important than making the right one. Thankfully, cocktail party banter is probably as close to an actual firefight as I will ever get.

Lesson 3 - Learning is a great joy, but it easily frustrates. I get turned off of things quickly if I do not feel like I am making steady progress. During the trip, I managed to learn a bit of Spanish because I could see immediate progress and results. I did not mange to become a video editing expert, because the tools require patience and careful practice. When I need to learn something to achieve a goal, I have learned to continually remind myself that short term frustration will be totally erased by long term accomplishment.

Lesson 4 - I have strong preferences, and I stick to them to the point of what some might consider irrationality. For example, I do not like to wear short trousers. They make grown men look like little boys. Even in situations where I might be more comfortable in shorts, I prefer to wear trousers and keep my dignity intact. Similarly, I do not care for semi-colons in my prose. They are just the right combination of showy and pointless to really raise my ire.

Lesson 5 - All of my biggest regrets in life - the ones that haunt me late at night when I can not get to sleep - involve backing down from fights. Despite all the civilized logic to the contrary, sometimes I think that receiving or handing out a beating would be much better than a lifetime of nagging shame. Even if you get a good kicking, at least you stood up for yourself. It may sound a bit silly, but I do not feel like a fully grown man because I have never been in a decent brawl. Also because I can not fix a car to save my life.

Coming Down

noreply@blogger.com (Mik3) — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 22:47:00 +0000

The OC officially ended one year ago today when Jason and I parted company on a German train platform. He was on his way to Buenos Aires by way of Budapest, Virginia, and San Diego and I was making a dash for London by way of Munich, Vienna, Melbourne, Nice, and Milan. I've still got my celebratory miniature bottle of sparkling wine. Maybe I'll build a little ship inside of it. When I made it back to London, there were two questions at the top of everyone's list: 1) Which country did you like the most (that is, which country had the hottest ladies), and 2) How are you ever going to get back to normal? I always had an enthusiastic answer for the first, but really only a shrug for the second. It's a lot easier to answer now that I've found a steady job, a place to live, and started investing heavily again in human relationships. Our one year anniversary seems like as good a time as any to record my thoughts on the matter.

Was it difficult to make the transition from free-spirited wanderer to desk-bound code jockey? Nope. A year off comes with a high opportunity cost. While we were out seeing the world, exciting offers of work passed me by, old friendships faded, and new friendships with any prospect of longevity were few in coming. Taking a break from normal life is also taking a break from all the things that make life richer as you get older - accomplishments to be proud of and friendships based on memorable shared experiences. By the time we got back to Europe, the accumulated cost of everything missed was beginning to overwhelm the value of new adventures. I was feeling useless, lonely, and self-indulgent.

Do I miss the free-spirited wandering? Yep. Normalcy is not all roses and Lifetime Movie moments. The thing that bothers me most is not a lack of freedom or excitement. Daily life doesn't seem dull. It's the stresses that come from commitment and responsibility that get me down. Now I've got no excuse to let friendships wither. If I don't contact somebody, it's not because I'm out of touch in the Himalayas, it's because I prioritized them behind something else. This is particularly difficult when it comes to family. At work, I am part of a very dedicated team, and worry about letting them down is a big stress, especially when you're surrounded by the kind of pipe-swinging uber-nerds we've got in the Lokku shop. Keeping up with these kids keeps a man busy.

Surprisingly, nobody ever asked me if the OC was "worth it", I guess because the downsides are much less apparent than the up. I will forgive you if you don't have much sympathy for a man who finds negatives of a year-long, globe-spanning vacation. Nonetheless, the question is important to me. A year used badly is a lot of life to waste. Thankfully, I can say now with confidence that the journey was excellent value for time (and probably money). I have secured major bragging rights among the traveling crowd, learned a number of important things about myself, made some (occasionally saucy) new friends, and exposed myself (ahem) to a wide variety of cultures. All of this came at the cost of a few friendships lost, a slight decay in immediacy of career-related skills, and all the money I had in the world. Good deal, I reckon.

Perhaps the best endorsement of the experience is that I would happily do it again. I've already started daydream-level planning of OC II. The general plan is to hit all the places "in the middle" that got missed the first time around. Tenative agenda is: Africa north of South Africa and South of the Sahara, the Middle East, Central Asia, and Central America. I would like to start in Namibia, zigzag through the Dark Continent, cross Jordan, Israel, and Syria on my way to the area between the Black and Caspian Seas. From there it's eastward through The Stans to Tibet and maybe eastern India, then over to Caracas for a smooth glide up through Latin America and back to SC for some home cooking. Anybody interested?

OC: The BA Years

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 17:32:00 +0000

I have made the move to Buenos Aires, and I have decided to start up another little blog so that I may continue to bore you with all of the useless details of my existence. This new blog is mostly intended for friends and family, so I can keep them up to date on all of the zany goings-on in my life in Latin America. But, if you are a loyal enough OC reader to still be checking for new posts, you have probably earned the right to visit the site.

Go ahead. Click on it. You know you want to.

Antarctica: A Recap

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Sat, 14 Oct 2006 22:07:00 +0000

Quark Expeditions just sent us our antarctic expedition log a blistering 10 months late. For those of you still interested in this kind of stuff, check out this collection of photos, videos, and travel logs.

Like Snigglets... But Better

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Fri, 08 Sep 2006 02:14:00 +0000

During the course of traveling around the world and being spoiled little boys, we came up with quite a few new words and turns of phrase that were originally for use solely by OC personnel. Now that the trip is over, we have decided to open this tremendous library to the world at large, and change the english lexicon forever.

Behold... The OC Dictionary.

Video Gallery: Auckland Sailing

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Wed, 30 Aug 2006 16:26:00 +0000

Another one from the archives. This time, it's dusk, and we're sailing past the Auckland skyline.

Video Gallery: Apsara Dancing

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Tue, 15 Aug 2006 21:10:00 +0000

I'm not sure why I didn't post this at the time, but in going through all the old trip media, I ran into a video clip of some Cambodian apsara dancing.

Photo Album: World Cup

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Fri, 28 Jul 2006 06:01:00 +0000

We ended Operation Cromulent in sunny northern europe amongst a happy reunion of family and friends. Oh, and we watched Italy beat France.

We Ain't Dead Yet

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Tue, 25 Jul 2006 04:20:00 +0000

The trip may officially be over, but there are still more OC goodies yet to come. After I'm done getting myself setup here in the VA, I'll be going through all the photos, videos, blog entries and souvenirs that we collected over the year, just to gain a bit of perspective on what we experienced. I've been trying to avoid looking all that stuff until I had the freedom to actually sit down and give it time it deserves. Well, that time is quickly approaching. Sometime this week, I'll start the sifting, and the memories, they will be triggered. I'm sure that quite a few blog entries, photo albums and video clips will be the happy result of the search. Mike may even be doing the same thing across the pond, there.

So, fear not, loyal OC reader. There is more to come.

Tales From The Other Side

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 16:14:00 +0000

I got back to the US yesterday and was met by my dad and brother at the airport. I'll be staying with bro for a bit while I get my act back together. Right now, I'm in my comfy room with a stable wireless network and a powerful stereo blasting the White Stripes while I go through all the shit that I packed up over a year ago.

Being back home is weird.

This Is The End

noreply@blogger.com (Mik3) — Sun, 09 Jul 2006 23:09:00 +0000

Berlin, Germany

The 2006 World Cup is over, and so is Operation Cromulent. Tomorrow morning, Jason and I are planning to part company and bring an end to this year of tomfoolery. Dedicated readers can still look forward to back-dated articles, photos, and videos as well as retrospectives on the entire experience. Also keep an eye out for Operation Cromulent: The Movie - coming soon (ish) to a blog near you.

Soccer Is A Perfectly Cromulent Word

noreply@blogger.com (Mik3) — Sun, 09 Jul 2006 08:14:00 +0000

Germany and Nearby Countries

A World Cup volunteer told me that there were only 300 TST-7 tickets available for each of the 32 participant countries. I reckon the OC was pretty fortunate to get our grubby little hands on two of 'em. When we first go the confirmation email a year ago, I had to read it three times before I could believe that we were actually going to the final. From a global perspective, the World Cup final makes the Superbowl look like the Northeast Iowa Thumb Wrestling Regional Finals. I reckon it must be the world's single most widely watched television broadcast and the subject of more newsprint than all topics excepting perhaps phone sex.

The 2006 tournament was advertised as "a time to make friends". For us, it was really more of a time to catch up with old pals. Early on, we ran into fellow Caltech alumni Kevin B., Jason W., and Cynthia G. The latter two ducked out after the first round of 16 match and were replaced by the newly arrived Leo Rg. Both he and Kevin were fellow TST-7 holders, so we were with them off and on until the bitterly Italian end. Karoline and Sonja showed us a good time in and around Vienna and Beth S. was gracious enough to arrange free accommodation in her aunt's place near Kaiserslautern and travel with us a bit as well. We caught up with Leo Rs. and his Tokyo crew in Hamburg, were joined for the weekend by the lovely Katya, and also enjoyed the drunken company of the notorious Carl U. and an assorted cabal of Yankee extras in Dusseldorf. Falk U. came back with us from Amsterdam and went so far as to arrange for us and Troy to stay with his very gracious parents in Berlin. We also had the unexpected pleasure of seeing Andreas M., Max C., Martin C., and the one and only Nick H. for a few minutes before the final. After so many months on the road, it was a bit of relief to see so many familiar faces.

The European transit system was similarly welcome. A first class Eurail pass is about as far as you can get from a local Laotian bus service or a Brazilian river boat. And we made good use of those passes. The first major side trip was to Vienna and back for a wedding (discussed elsewhere). After the second Kaiserslautern match, we converted a couchette cabin into an American consulate. With five out of six beds filled with the OC, Kevin B., Leo Rg, and Beth S., we had just enough room left to watch Pulp Fiction on one a laptop before turning in for the night. The next morning found us in Copenhagen where we spent two days and an evening bopping around a lovely, if bleak, nordic city. Notable events included a street concert in a hippie "republic" and a show by Boss Hoss - perhaps the world's only country-style German pop cover band. Their version of "Hey Ya" alone was worth the price of admission. The final international road trip was the obligatory visit to Amsterdam where we reconnected with The Dykes, smoked some splif, and enjoyed one of the finest "beaches" in northern Europe before an excitedly blurry cycle road home.

I had been thinking that the OC would kind of wind down into a beer-soaked whimper, but it more spiraled up into a beer-soaked frenzy. It was an appropriately hectic conclusion to what has been a very busy year - the significance of which has been weighing a bit heavily upon me. So heavily, in fact, that the WC final was something of an anticlimax. Andreas M. commented over beers that we (the OC, that is - and Jason in particular) were notably serene in the face of so much energy and excitement. It is not that I did not have a good time, but I might very well have traded my ticket for another month in Africa or a chance to tour Central Asia. It is hard to get worked up about one thing in particular when there is so much left to see.

Video Gallery: Boss Hoss

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Thu, 06 Jul 2006 22:54:00 +0000

When we were in Denmark, we saw a live show of a German band doing American country covers of popular hip-hop songs. Them northern europeans are some bored-ass people.

Video Gallery: A True Patriot

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Thu, 06 Jul 2006 22:52:00 +0000

There are a rare few who are willing to sacrifice their own dignity for their country. Mike is one of those few.

Photo Albums: Romania

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Thu, 06 Jul 2006 16:25:00 +0000

We were attacked by viral vampires and nearly slain. But, Romania was aaaaaa'ight.

Did you eat my schnitzel?

noreply@blogger.com (Mik3) — Sun, 25 Jun 2006 09:03:00 +0000

Vienna and Tulln, Austria

Way back in the day, the OC met two Austrian girls on a beach in Koh Tao, Thailand. The brief meeting was primarily notable because of Jason's unusually high level of inebriation brought about by a "bucket drink" - literally a cocktail served in a bucket. He drank something like a liter of Long Island Ice Tea in a half hour. The consequent -13 penalty to his dexterity was equal parts hilarious and understandable. Before Jason became totally useless, we had a good chat with Karoline (pronounced care-oh-lean-ah) and Sonja. Karoline ducked out early in the evening claiming hangover, but Sonja carried on with us to find a place to dance. Jason stumbled off home early leaving me to walk a combative Sonja back to her hotel while she yelled at me about the evils of hunting. While not a particularly memorable OC evening, it was not a bad one.

A bit after, I started exchanging emails with Karoline. She was a flight attendant and therefore always on the move. We tried to arrange a meeting in Australia or New Zealand, but schedules did not mesh. Sometime around Egypt (I think - maybe earlier), we started talking about a visit to Austria. As it turns out, the wedding of Yashi and Nina was going down between two of the OC's World Cup matches and just after my family was to split Deutchland. After waving goodbye to my folks in Munich, we made a mad dash south by train bearing newly-validated first class Eurail passes. Since we are old men (over 27), they made us buy the first class pass. A bit of luxury won't kill us, but I resent no longer being officially a "youth". Karoline and Sonja were there on the platform to meet us when our train pulled into Vienna's West Station.

It was only our second meeting and some nine months since the last one, but it felt to me like a reunion of old friends. The girls lived in a village about a half hour away from Vienna. The journey by car was scenic and our guides made sure to point out every castle, convent, and giant summer music festival along the route. We quickly escaped the bright lights of the big city and settled into a seasonal wine garden on the banks of the Danube to sample the local tipple and munch on delicious plates of farm-fresh meat, cheese, and salad. All this was set against a slow sunset. After dinner, the party moved to Karoline's balcony where we downed a few more bottles of wine between fights for the hammock and episodes of spilling wax all over my trousers. It was not a heavy night, but it was a good one - the kind that you might expect to enjoy at a time when your preference is shifting from downing vodka and redbull in smokey clubs to sipping merlot in the homes of friends.

As our hosts would be occupied all the next day with wedding stuff, Karoline arranged for her sister Charlotte to be our tour guide. We met her over a tasty breakfast before setting out for the city by car. Vienna is not as overwhelmingly scenic as Salzburg, but it is a lot more vibrant and functional. Our quick sightseeing route took us past the city cathedral, down some busy shopping streets, to a famous cafe for famous cake, and into a leafy park for a rest. Then it was back to the village to suit up. Due to a delay in the proceedings, our reunion with Karoline and Sonja was pushed back. We frittered away the extra time in a beer garden next to the Danube. This part of Austria is not hurting for pleasant river-side drinking holes. At the appointed hour, Charlotte drove us over and around some hills to the site of the post-wedding party.

A more bride-pleasing location might be hard to come by. The event was split between the grounds of a small barn and the cave-like rooms below it. Outside there was a projector hooked up to some kind of drawing pad casting artful images onto the outside wall. Inside there was a DJ and no shortage of drink. Jason and I did our part by hanging up a sampling of photos of the couple all around the venue. Things kicked off around sunset when the couple and the bulk of the wedding party arrived on foot. They seemed like a nice pair, although one with definite hippie sensibilities. I was terribly overdressed in a shirt and tie, but it didn't matter much, as we stayed for only a few hours. The high availability of good quality booze took a predictable toll on the wakefulness of our squad. Karoline bravely drove the OC home sometime around midnight.

The next morning, Jason and I caught the early train to Vienna and connected from there back up to Munich. The World Cup website had misled us into believing that we had to exchange our ticket voucher the day before our first 2nd round match. The early departure deprived us of a few more happy hours with our Austrian friends at the cost of peace of mind. Never believe what you read on the Internet. It was a long way to come for just a few hours at a party, but I reckon it was worth the journey. Making the effort to see someone in the flesh is the only way to convert acquaintances from the road to real and lasting friends. You can only know forge so many bonds via email.

Round One...Fight!

noreply@blogger.com (Mik3) — Fri, 23 Jun 2006 23:14:00 +0000

Southwest Germany
Amsterdam, The Netherlands
Salzburg, Austria

Due to a combination of bad luck and general lack of skill, the United States is out of the 2006 World Cup. An embarrassing 3-0 defeat to the Czechs and a surprising and litigous 1-1 tie with Italy were rounded out by an appropriately dispiriting 2-1 loss to an undeserving Ghanese squad. Our next match was Italy vs. Australia last Monday. I was shouting "Go Italia!", but the bulk of my fandom is reserved for my adoptive home of England. Hopefully Davey B and the boys can kick it a tad more ballistic than our domestically produced ballers. I see the holy trinity of English soccer - pints, St. George's crosses, and reserved optimism - playing a significant role in my immediate future.

In an effort to cut costs, we booked hotels outside of large cities or cities that were hosting World Cup matches. This strategy worked very well. Because we had a car, we could use our HQ as a quiet base for aggressive forays in any direction and have a refuge from all the hoopla. Hell, it seems, is other tourists. We first set up shop in the Borbeck area of Essen. From there we cruised down to the lovely little river city of Mainz. Our home then moved to Amberg and then (very briefly) to Fresing, a town notable for us only because of its proximity to Munich's airport. In between all that we worked in road trips to Koln (Cologne), Amsterdam, and Salzburg and a very pleasant cruise along the castle-studded bit of the Rhine.

Time spent looking at cathedrals and watching football in beer gardens fades quickly. The lasting memories of the last two weeks will be of hanging out with my family. I like "going home" as much as the next guy, but I prefer to see my immediate kin outside of the context of my youth. In Charleston, it is very easy to slip back into the patterns of childhood and adolescence. It is far better to relate to my parents and siblings as other adults rather than to behave like a 29-year-old teenager. Families can lumber along forever happily laughing at the same twenty stories from twenty years ago or they can do new things together and have a fresh supply of the inside jokes and shared experiences that distinguish voluntary friends from incidental relations.

Photo Albums: Sailing In Croatia

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Tue, 20 Jun 2006 22:06:00 +0000

Yar! Thar do be a fine-lookin' album off'n the starberd bow. Turn er that way, Mr. Falk.

Video Gallery: Jackie's Croatian Concert

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Thu, 15 Jun 2006 18:08:00 +0000

On one of the islands in the Adriatic, we ran into a polish guitar player entertaining some locals. Jackie gave a performance of her own.

Video Gallery: Sailin'

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Thu, 15 Jun 2006 18:06:00 +0000

A little sample of what it's like to go sailing with the OC.

Video Gallery: Basement Winery

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Wed, 14 Jun 2006 00:40:00 +0000

While we were in Milna, we happened upon a strange, musky winery in an alley. The winemaker convinced us to buy two bottles.

Photo Albums: Bulgaria

noreply@blogger.com (jason) — Wed, 14 Jun 2006 00:38:00 +0000

It's a good area.

World Cup Fever

noreply@blogger.com (Mik3) — Mon, 12 Jun 2006 09:37:00 +0000

Essen, Germany

Just a quickie...

I picked up my parents at Dusseldorf airport yesterday and safely ushered them to a hotel in Essen in the comfort of our rented Renault Espace. The first USA match is this afternoon at 18:00 CET. Jason (stopped in Croatia to get his sister to the airport) should be arriving by bus in the next couple of hours and the OC will be back in full force and ready to cheer on The States to our inevitable (hopefully) victory of the hated Czechs.

Balkan Eats

noreply@blogger.com (Mik3) — Mon, 12 Jun 2006 09:33:00 +0000

The Food of Bulgaria, Romania, and Croatia

It would be difficult for me to differentiate between the foods of Bulgaria, Romania, and Croatia, not only because they were fairly similar, but because we spent a comparatively small amount of time in each. At the risk of horrifying Balkan chefs, I will lump a discussion of their relative merits into one article and identify only the most notable national oddities.

For some reason, breakfasts were few and far between. The only morning dishes I recall are buttery omlettes, toasted sandwiches, and cheese- or spinach-filled filo pastry squares. It seems that brekkie is not big in these parts. Lunch and dinner arrived at the conventional western hours and the offerings were similar enough such that there is no pressing need to differentiate. Crunchy salads were always on offer and were at their best and most inventive in Bulgaria. Soups followed an opposite trend. Croatian menus almost always featured "tomato soup with rice" and "beef soup with noodles". Farther east, we only found good broths in the more upscale establishments. Meat and pasta dishes generally ruled the roost, the former almost always coming with some fried potatoes in tow. Seafood was naturally more abundant in coastal regions with the fruits of the Adriatic being of particularly high quality, variety, and price.

All three countries featured the usual assortment of fast food restaurants, including Western chains. Doner shops chucked out cylinder-cooked atrocities and fried hamburgers just as in the rest of Europe. Pizza deserves to be particularly noted. At times, it seemed like it must be the staple food of the entire region. You could get it anywhere at anytime in any style (menus sometimes featured several pages of options) and it was usually pretty damn good. It was not uncommon to see several pizza restaurants clustered together with empty tables in scant supply. Among these Balkan nations, the ubiquity of pizza was matched only by its popularity.

Pot - In Bulgarian, restaurants would sometime feature traditional dishes cooked and served in a clay pot. These were often very tasty and a welcome break from meat and potato plates, but they had a tendency to go very heavy on the onions.
Rakia - Appearing on menus as "brandy", this potent aperitif is one part grappa and one part lava. It us drunk like ouzo - mixed with a bit of water and ice. Dilution does little to mitigate the shock of ingestion, though.
Beer - In general, light beers were OK to bad and dark beers were OK to good. No particular brand stood out as a winner, though.
Wine - Local table wine throughout the region was not great, with quality diminishing as we got farther from Sofia. The Croatian offerings were sometimes downright awful.
Pork - Romanians really seem to dig swine, and they know how to do it right. Pork dishes were usually served in tasty, semi-sweet onion and tomato sauces that nicely combatted the natural dry saltiness of pig flesh.
Crayfish? - In Croatian fish restaurants, you are sometimes served shellfish that look like shrimp, but with crab-like claws. They taste very much like lobster. I am not exactly sure what to call these critters, but they remind of crayfish minus the spindly legs.