I'm an expat Californian who is obsessed with traveling to strange and exotic destinations in the former Communist Bloc. I also like tacos, surfing, and the geopolitics of oil. Washington, D.C. is currently my home, but I'm looking to break out of this fetid swamp someday. Read more about me here, check out my photo album, or send me an e-mail.
I'd really like to visit Neft Daşları (Oil Rocks), located in the Caspian Sea about 45km offshore of Baku, but apparently getting permission from SOCAR is next to impossible.
Holidays for most of us mean sun, sea and sand – but not for madcap Andy Drury and Nigel Green.
Instead of flicking through travel brochures looking for exotic hot spots, they check out the war zones and trouble spots where our Foreign Office warns people NOT to go — then go there.
During their adventures they have:
- Been shot at by Russian troops while trying to sneak over a border into Chechnya.
- Been chased by rampaging elephants in Uganda.
- Visited Chernobyl nuclear power station, risking radiation sickness.
- Fled the Taliban in Afghanistan.
- Been held at gunpoint by the Republican Guard in Iran.
Construction worker Andy, 42, and legal executive Nigel, 45, both from Puttenham, Surrey, have even been divorced by their long-suffering wives after their twice-a-year trips drove the women to distraction.
But the cousins, who reckon they each spend £3,000 a year on their adventures, keep going back for more.
Father-of-two Andy said: "Living on your wits and on the edge every day of your holiday is such a buzz. There is no way we could settle down with a book on a beach.
"In many of the places we go we meet UN peacekeeping troops who are in armoured cars and full battle kit while we stroll around taking pictures in shorts and flip-flops.
"We have eaten insects in Uganda, camel in the Sudan, bear in Trans-Dniester, a breakaway republic from Moldova, and had more goat curries than I care to think about."
Nigel said: "I think most of the government troops or rebels we encounter come to the conclusion we are not undercover soldiers or spies — but are just barking mad."
I am flying out to San Antonio tomorrow for work. Again, just doing my part to ensure America's energy needs are met. My parents are meeting me in San Antonio over the weekend, as they've never been there and I think they will enjoy the city. I told my mom I would be done with the meetings around noon on Friday, just in time for lunch. Her response?
Eating like a Texan, part II: Chicken fried bacon roadtrip
Perhaps I should preface this entry with an email I received from my mom in regards to my Sunday night dinner in Houston:
Subject: Texas food
Lindsay,
Are you nuts! If you move to Texas, I hope you don't eat like that all the time. You will be huge, not to mention your arteries clogged.
[...]
Love,
Mom
Mom, as a warning, you might want to stop reading this post now.
When I go to Houston, our meetings are occasionally held at the IAH airport Marriott. It's convenient; your plane lands, you grab your luggage, hop on the mini subway that runs between the terminals, and shortly thereafter find yourself at the hotel. You have breakfast at the hotel, meetings at the hotel, lunch at the hotel, and, since there are no restaurants within walking distance of IAH, dinner at the hotel. The end result is that for a day and a half you exist in this airport/hotel bubble and never actually once step outside (although with Houston's poor air quality, that's probably a good thing).
This most recent trip to Houston, however, involved a roadtrip to Snook, Texas, a small town (population 568) located 100 miles northwest of Houston. I went to Snook with two highly entertaining engineers/bacon aficionados: my boss, and Dave, one of our Houston-based member company guys who heard about a restaurant in Snook and its holy grail of bacon several months prior to our trip. The drive didn’t take very long at all, and the countryside was actually quite beautiful. Trees, farms, cows, bluebonnets, that sort of stuff.
Still, I know what you're thinking. Lindsay, dude, WTF? Why would you drive 200 miles roundtrip, to the middle of nowhere, for dinner? Simple: chicken fried bacon. Let me just emphasize this one more time: CHICKEN. FRIED. BACON.
The restaurant that serves this delicious, artery-clogging appetizer is Sodolak's Original Country Inn, a small establishment where the walls are lined with firefighter gear and the borders of the menus feature ads for funeral homes and gun stores. The staff is friendly (it is Texas, after all), some of the locals are dressed in cowboy boots and hats (again, Texas), and stacks of official Sodolak's Original Country Inn t-shirts and camouflage hats are piled next to the cash register.
We ordered three servings of Sodolak’s infamous appetizer. Chicken fried bacon, as you’ve likely already gathered, consists of long strips of bacon coated in chicken fried steak batter, deep fried, and served with a generous side of cream gravy. It was amazingly delicious, and the fried consistency was perfect (i.e., not too overbearingly thick.)
In addition to the chicken fried bacon, we each had a filet mignon, served with a baked potato, Texas toast, and a side salad that was drowning in ranch dressing (as it should be). For a brief five seconds, I had considered ordering chicken fried steak, but figured that would be pretty intense, especially after the chicken fried bacon. You may not believe this, but even I have limits.
So was Sodolak's worth the 200 mile trip? Yeah, most definitely. I have already found myself craving chicken fried bacon and will be visiting Sodolak's again after I move to Houston (and no, Mom, I won't be eating chicken fried bacon everyday, alright?).
For more on Sodolak's and chicken fried bacon, check out this YouTube video from Texas Country Reporter:
I am in Houston for work, but met up with some Cindy and Ann for dinner tonight. We ate at Goode Company BBQ on Kirby Drive. It's a really chill place where you grab a beer from a huge cooler, order your food cafeteria style, and then take your tray outside to the long wooden tables. I had a delicious BBQ beef brisket po'boy, jambalaya texana, Shiner Bock, and a Saint Arnold's root beer. The best part about this place, though, is that there is a gigantic armadillo statue, complete with glowing eyes and longhorns, directly across the parking lot. You really cannot explain such things, as it's to be expected in Texas.
Following dinner, we hit up House of Pies, where I had a slice of "Texas" pecan pie a la mode (of course).
And that's one of the good things about Houston - it's easy to find good and cheap food throughout this city.
I'm in Denver for a few days for a work meeting. I've been to Colorado a very long time ago, but don't recall ever coming to Denver. My first impression of the city is that the airport seems very far away and everyone drives a gigantic truck or SUV. Very observant, I know.
While I was waiting to board my flight out of DCA, I noticed this guy waving in my general direction. At first I did not recognize him from afar, but then realized it was Paul, a longtime family friend. I think my parents have known him for around 30+ years. He was in Washington on business and stopping in Denver for another business trip before heading home to California. As it turns out, he was also in the seat directly behind me. Small world, eh?
Lessons from the former Soviet Union: How to make an ice cream sundae
Deposit several scoops of ice cream into a tall glass, garnish with an entire orchard's worth of fruit and one ice cream cone. Serve with a dash of disinterested Eastern European customer service.
This is the most bizarre sundae I've ever seen in my life, and that's saying something, considering how much ice cream I eat. I love ice cream, and, in particular, that delicious soft serve ice cream that costs less than 25 cents and can be found throughout the former Soviet republics.
Late one evening in Yerevan, after finishing dinner at a decent Chinese restaurant, everyone hopped in their respective SUVs (American diplomats, natch) for a morozhenoe run. We ended up at some outdoor pseudo Middle Eastern cafe that looked as if it had been jacked from a Hollywood movie set and deposited in downtown Yerevan. All that mattered, though, was that they served ice cream and coffee. I opted for a traditional vanilla/chocolate combination, but Andrew decided to be the brave man in the group and order the descriptionless "Sharm-El" sundae. The above photo shows what he ended up with. I'm glad I stuck with my highly unoriginal ice cream order, as a smörgåsbord of fruit only serves to defile the ice cream. Too damn healthy.
Lessons from the former Soviet Union: How to park your car in Kiev
If you were under the impression that sidewalks existed solely for the use of pedestrians, you would be wrong. At least if you were in Kiev, where it is quite common for drivers to park on sidewalks. With Kiev's horrendous traffic, you're also likely to see cars driving down the sidewalk, as we did while on our bus coming back from Chernobyl. Our bus driver felt it was appropriate to drive on the sidewalk rather than wait at a busy intersection. Amazingly, no pedestrians were harmed in the process.
Unless you're in the oil business, there's little reason to brave the choking pollution of Baku, Azerbaijan. Fetid water, oil ponds and life-threatening levels of air pollution emitted from drilling and shipping land the former Soviet manufacturing center at the bottom of this year's list as the world's dirtiest city.
On the contrary, I found Baku an interesting city to visit. It's not all leaking pipelines and fetid pools of oil (but yes, there is plenty of that to see).
This is a view of Old Town Baku from the top of the Maiden Tower. Besides a large population of carpet salesmen, the Old Town consists of the aforementioned Maiden Tower (12th century), the Palace of the Shirvanshahs (15th century), and beautiful, narrow streets that would rival those in Dubrovnik. In 2000, the Walled City of Baku, the Maiden Tower, and the Palace of the Shirvanshahs were deemed a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Lessons from the former Soviet Union: How to fix a leaking pipe in Yerevan
In many cities throughout the former USSR, the utility lines (gas, water, etc.) were run above ground rather than buried below. This particular water line was right in front of Liz's apartment, and surrounded by a large, and constantly growing, pool of water. Check out the awesome "repair" job performed by the local utility workers (or, most likely, a frustrated local). At the very least, the pipe was no longer hemorrhaging water.
This is perhaps the biggest travel cliché imaginable, but I absolutely adored Venice. The scenery was incredibly beautiful, the food amazing, and the locals very warm and welcoming. And although we went in late June, at the height of tourist season, we had no problems escaping the crowds that seemed to gravitate towards Piazza San Marco and its nearby stores and restaurants. It was a welcome change from the hellish atmosphere of Rome.
While most people think of gondolas as the most prevalent form of transportation in Venice, the canals are, in fact, traversed by a variety of less glamorous - but equally fascinating - boats. Cars are not allowed in Venice, so everything, from delivering mail to hauling construction equipment, must be done by boat. Here are a few of the boats that get the job done.
The ACTV waterbus: Venetian mass transit. Sure beats the hell out of the DC metro.
Delivering restaurant supplies
Garbage collection.
Mail delivery
The UPS boat. Unfortunately, I did not get a photo of the FedEx boat.
Cops. They should make a show like "CHiPs", but based in Venice.
Ambulance
Construction crew. This boat is the Venetian equivalent of an F-350 Super Duty Crew Cab.
Once the products are offloaded, they are delivered to their destination via handtrucks. I do not envy this guy's job.
Wow, I actually received responses to my flip flop rant from TWO TSA employees. One posted a response on my previous blog entry:
Thanks for the link. We appreciate it.
We're working to get unburied from the 1,500 plus comments we've received in the past 48 hours so I wanted to personally answer your questions. We will get to your post and publish it but for now:
Looking back since TSA’s inception, we’ve really been all over the map on shoes. First they were okay but nail clippers weren’t, then Richard Reid tried to light an improvised explosive device (IED) in his big, euro sneaker boots on his way to Miami so we started asking people with big, euro sneaker boots to take them off, then we started having passengers remove any shoe with a 1 inch heel or sole (you try measuring 4 million shoes per day moving through a checkpoint) which allowed all but the clunkiest flip-flops to pass on by. So…in August 2006 we went to all shoes off, all the time.
The reason is simple. Our intel folks, that are truly tied into the international intelligence community, are telling us that terrorists are still interested in using shoes to hide IEDs or their sometimes very small components. The plain fact is that explosives can be made to appear like pretty much anything, including flip-flops and by putting all 4 million shoes we see everyday through the x-ray machine we have a better chance of catching anything stinky (sorry, couldn’t help the pun).
Oh, also, we’re using blogger because it’s easy and free. Don’t want to be accused of wasting “Your Tax Dollars At Work.” We’re still pretty new at this so bear with us.
Look forward to continued comments from you and yours.
As an occasional Crocs wearer, ouch, that hurts. Can't argue with you about the ugliness, but they sure are comfortable.
As both a TSA employee and a frequent traveler, I feel your shoeless pain. No one likes taking off their shoes, myself included, but until we get one technology that can get a good look at everything, including shoes, in one shot, all shoes - including flip flops - have to come off. Any shoe can be tampered with, and trust me, the last thing you want is the government trying to classify exactly what a "sandal" is. Yikes.
So you know, Ethel, one of our moderators, is actively working on solutions so you can keep your flip flops on.
Say what you will about the TSA, at least their blog staff has a sense of humor.
I've got, like, a gazillion points and need to spend them, and would really like to join Phil on his trip out there:
Dude,
I'm just in the middle of planning a week trip to turkmenistan now... YEE-HAW. You should come along.
Now if only I could rack up enough frequent flier miles to bring down the price of the $2,500 DC -> London -> Baku -> Ashgabat flight. Gah, on second thought, that trip to Turkmenistan might have to wait a few years.
We took an early morning whale watching tour on our last full day in Hawaii. I was skeptical that we would actually see whales, but in reality there were over 20+ sightings while we were on the boat. It was pretty cool, and I would definitely recommend it if you are ever on the Big Island.
Our guide had a great sense of humor and was brimming with facts (which I can no longer remember) about the whales that were surfacing just yards away. She spoke with an accent, and when someone asked where she was from, she replied Budapest, Hungary (which, by the way, is completely landlocked).
I really wanted to take an air tour of the Kīlauea volcano while we were vacationing on the Big Island, so we booked a flight with Sunshine Helicopters and drove across the island to the Hilo airport.
It was raining when we took off, but this is Hawaii, so wait a few minutes and the weather will change.
Approaching Kīlauea
Lava flows. I was lucky enough to be assigned the seat right next to the pilot (granted, the photos still suck...taking photos while in a helicopter is not as easy as I had imagined).
More lava. We spent a few minutes hovering over the area, which smelled strongly of sulfur.
The lava fields stretch to the coast. Several small towns were destroyed by eruptions in 1990, and some residents rebuilt their homes there against the wishes of the Hawaiian government.
The coastline. 2km of prime real estate added, courtesy of the current eruption.
Waterfall spotted while returning to the airport.
Obligatory family photo in front of helicopter. In case of a crash landing on the volcano, the inflatable life vests we had to wear around our waists would not be of much help.
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