Worst McFlurry Ever?

As you know, wherever I go, I seek out the McDonalds and sample their McFlurry. I had one the day I got to Tokyo. And it was disappointing. 

So, I found one nearby where I am staying now. Same result. It was small. They served it in a short cup, and did not even fill the cup. They apparently only had one flavor, a weak Oreo crumb. And I do not even think it was a true McFlurry, because they served it to me in less time than it takes to make up and properly whip a McFlurry. So, disappointment all around. Not well done, and not much of it. 

For the record, the best McFlurry was in the financial district in Johannesburg. It was caramel and chocolate bits. We would call it a rolo McFlurry. The next best was a rolo McFlurry someplace in North Carolina. After they made the regular rolo McFlurry they put on extra caramel. And it was warm caramel. 

And, for the record, while Tokyo had the worst McFlurry in my travels, my local Walmart had the worst McFlurry ever. Apparently they had them all made up beforehand then stuck them in a freezer or something. 

Crime against nature. 

More About Toilets

I figured I had seen it all, and done it all, and even felt it all, really,  about toilets when I posted a while back on the subject. 

Then I got to a hostel in Japan. 

Check it out.   

Notice the instructions on the inside of the top seat. One does not usually need those. But one does not usually have a control panel like the one you see at left. 

Here's a close up:

And here are the English instructions on the wall for those who still did not get it:

So, this seat has it all. It was a joy to, uuhhh,  experiment with. 

No more toilet paper, just a gentle spray and away you go. 

BUTT wait, there's more. 

I left Fuji and checked into the Tokyo hostel, and there was even more!!!!! 

In Tokyo, the seat can be warmed, you can make it play a flushing sound, adjust the flow of the water jets. And seriously, I have only been in Tokyo for a few hours.

I don't know what else toilets can do here. 

And you want a sink near your toilet? How's this?

I gotta get back to America. 

On Top of Old Fuji

Made it to the top. Body working well enough. Don't look forward to a couple of days from now when soreness sets in. But I made it. 

Crossing Japan

It was an innocent enough request. 

I asked if he understood English.

 He was twenty something and selling tickets at the station in Yonago.  This is a small town in southwest Japan. I was here after a short train ride from the ferry boat dock. 

So I showed him the address and the name of the train station I wanted to go to. He said it did not exist. Which confirmed what mi Internet research had told me (even though it was right there in the hostel directions!!!

Anyway, we worked at it a while and it turned out that he was going to get me close, and then let another local railroad try to get me there. 

So, I rode a real nice train for a couple of hours, and then had a 45 minute layover before my next train. Great. Enough time to get more money. I had swapped a $20 bill for some yen when I jumped off the boat, but that would not last long. 

 I could not get the two at atm's in the station to work, and there was no money changer. So I went down the street looking for something. Nothing. This after six weeks with three ATM machines on every corner in Russia and even Mongolia. I finally found a bank of three machines. None worked. I went to a bank. Neither of theirs accepted my card. AND they did not change dollars. IN A BANK!!!

I found a hotel (whose ATM would accept none of my three cards) and they directed me across the street to the post office. They had two machines. But neither would talk to me. But, they would change money. 

I had 14 minutes till train time. I was across the square from the station. I handed her the two hundreds. She gave me some forms to fill out. I did my best. But I was sweating so much, and had gotten so sloppy, she wanted me to redo them. I gave up. I grabbed my bucks ( not yen) and ran for the station, where I made my train with four minutes to spare. 

Then three hours on the bullet train and a whole adventure later. 

I did get my money eventually, at a hotel a in Tokyo. But, even here I screwed it up. Turns out I misplaced a decimal point   and got $500 instead of fifty dollars worth of yen. Well, that is a bit understandable after being in two countries with exchange rates of 1000 and 1500 to the dollar. At least the yen is an international currency. Or maybe I'll just spend it. 

Oh, and the guy I asked if he understood English? Judging by the route he took me-- I doubt it. 

On the Toilet

You know, on reading that, maybe I should have said "ABOUT" the toilet.  

Toilets are important to the traveller. Many travelers use them daily. And a careless traveler who neglects the common sense things uses one or more toilets several times an hour. Many of the locals also use them. But travelers always seem to talk about them more. 

I heard one exchange the other day.  

"I can't wait to get back to a clean toilet."

"Yeah," somebody else replied, "and one where can just throw the toilet paper in instead of using that little trash can. "

"I want one that flushes instead of just falls in a hole."

And finally: "I want one you can sit on." 

Fact is, we care a lot. 

I don't have any pictures (on the phone) of the most common toilet I have seen in the outback, but it is basically a six inch wide by eighteen inch gap in the planking of a wooden platform suspended over a hole from three to fifteen or so food deep. 

Many of them had great views. 

Using these toilets for #1 is no big deal, but, really most guys just walk a few feet away from the bus or whatever and skip the whole toilet thing. 

Using a squat toilet for  #2, though takes preparation. First off, you have to check that you have toilet pepper. Then you tie your shoelaces so the laces are not flopping. You make sure all your pants pockets are closed, zipped, etc, your camera case latched, and nothing loose hanging anywhere. If you are wearing long pants, pull them up so nothing is dragging. Check that the money belt around your waist is closed and secure. 

Check around if you are my age. Look for something clean to grab and lean on. Getting up from a full squat can be awkward. 

If it is nighttime, be sure you have your headlamp ready. 

Finally, all secure, maneuver into position and squat. Check that all clothing is out of the way and..., well execute. Then move away from the hole and pull up your drawers. 

Then leave. Quickly. 

The first time I saw a squat toilet, in the Naples train station forty years ago, I thought they were just cheap ways to make a toilet. Subsequently, I have seen tiled, gold inlaid, porcelain, and all sorts of classy squat toilets. Here is a nice one on the boat I am on now. It has plumbing to rinse it, a little faucet to get water to wash the "area" (this explains two things. First, why you do not use toilet paper with a proper squat toilet, and second, why in two thirds of the world you don't eat or shake hands with the left hand. ).

By the way, once you work out the program, squat toilets are often better than sit downs--especially when nobody is cleaning the sit down. In the ideal squat, nothing touches anything except the soles of your shoes. 

They also have sit down toilets on the boat, and nice urinals. However, all the porcelain facilities have these laminated pictures of woman's eyes and some Korean text. Noboby I have asked yet tells me what it says. I think "Be careful and Considerate."

Here is the actual detail if you can read Korean. 

Weird to be looking at. 

The train toilets were all sit downs, and although utilitarian and plain, were kept relatively clean. Every car has a "providinsta" (spelling unknown), a lady who acts as conductor, cleaner, alarm clock, security, and all that. She keeps the toilet well stocked and fairly clean. The bummer, though, is that she locks them up from half an hour before a station stop to half an hour after. And some stops are half an hour long. 

But the amazing thing is that the trains in Russia just dump straight to the ground.  I thought that ended years ago. 

I have lots more to say about toilets. I am a traveller. But boat is getting ready to leave and I have to upload before we go to sea and I lose cell coverage. 

North Korea

We are cruising past North Korea right now. It is a secretive little country. It put up a fog so we cannot get a good picture of it. 

Bye-bye Mother Russia

I am on board the Eastern Dream, a cross between a cruise ship and a ferry. 

I had waited on posting the Vladivostok post, hoping to get a picture of me at the end of the line--some kind of kilometer post saying I had made all 9288 kilometers. But, despite my asking around, there was no such sign. Alas, as I waited in line at immigration to get stamped out, there was a video showing, among other things, a guy standing just in front of that very marker. Too late. 

The Eastern Dream has gorgeous bas reliefs of the sea gods as you enter, carpeting and air conditioning, a friendly, helpful staff ( like as cruise ship) a night club and restaurant, and all. Judy would even like it. Well, except that there are 72 beds in our stateroom. 

Now, hold on there. That sounds worse than it is. They all have a little curtain to cover the bed itself. It should be fine. ( I have not gone looking for the bathroom.  I assume they will have something!)

On reviewing what I wrote before. 

Now that my suite mates have arrived, I note that I am the only one in the neighborhood over fifteen years of age, and the only male. This will be a scream!!!

And-still on edit before posting. I have found the bathroom for the  72 of us. It is worthy of a separate blog entry.   So you will have to wait. 

Anyway, I am sitting here drinking a San Miguel. I have only had a few of them in my life. They are good, but not necessarily extra special. The first I ever had one, it was a treat from some rich guy staying at the  big international hotel outside of Kathmandu. He had invited Tom (my hiking partner) and me to lunch to celebrate our trek to Everest. So, I have always associated San Miguel with accomplishment of some adventure. 

They use dollars on this boat. When I paid for the beer with a $20, the clerk gave me (among other things) a bunch of  $2 bills. She was surprised to learn we don't actually use them!!!

Good bye, Mother Russia. I wish you well. I promise if I come back to see you in another 40 years, I will travel first class. 

Vladivostok

As you know, I did not think I would get much time in Vladivostok. I thought the train was to arrive the morning the ferry left. Fact is, though, that the train arrived a full day ahead of time. Enough time to take in the sights. 

I figured I could sleep a few hours in the train station after my 1:45 arrival.  And it was working fine. Until the guy next to me decided he wanted to learn English. For the next 45 minutes, he had me read from the "Learning English" text he had in his bag. And he practiced. And practiced. But I wanted to sleep and sleep. Luckily, around 3:00 the cleaning crew came in, and made us lift our feet. So, I retreated to a further set of chairs and set myself for sleep. I did not get much, but it was tolerable. They actually turned out most of the lights. But they kept up the every fifteen minute recorded announcement. I am sure it was all about security and not smoking, but its real   intent was to make sure our sleep was not peaceful. 

I figured about 6:30, I would find the buses running and head for the hostel. Instead, I found a raging downpour, with wind and lightning and all. I did not need to go out in that, so I waited an extra hour for it to abate. I got to the hostel about eight, but it was not ready for me. So, I had some tea, and headed out to see Vladivostok. 

There was, after all, only seven things listed in Lonely Planet to see. 

The weather was miserable.  Vladivostok is known, among other things, as "the San Francisco of Siberia." We'll, it does have hills and tall bridges, I hear, but I could not see them for the thick fog. It was muggy, rainy, and murky. The fog was everywhere. 

Beautiful day for museums. So, after a stop at the ferry terminal to check things out, I headed to the first museum. It was closed except for the first floor. I skipped it. The second museum was closed indefinitely, but had a temporary exhibit open twelve blocks away. The third indoor activity, the picture gallery was closed for repair. The fourth did not open until August 21. Frustrated, I went to what Lonely Planet described as "vladivostok's favorite attraction may just be the smoothest-running operation in the Far East: the well-oiled funicular rail way, which every few minutes makes a fun 60 second ride up a 100 meter hill."

It looks like this:

Maybe it is hard to pick up in the photo,but note the piles of trash and the barred doors!  

(I climbed the four billion stairs to the top, because the sun was burning off the fog and I wanted to see the city. It was getting nicer--although still hazy. )

At any rate, my museum closing luck left me only the war museum, based on the gun  emplacement  that defended the city. I eventually found it. The entrance had been moved, and I had to approach from a different street. And the old submarine museum was right where it was supposed to be, and fairly interesting, if campy. 

But as the day wore on, the weather cleared, showing off a city with lots of spectacular sights. Water, and hills, and lots of walking. This last pic was taken out o me side of the hostel. The other side shows a similar scene, since we are out on a peninsula. 

At any rate, I have to get ready to leaveRussia  tomorrow. 

For The Skeptical

There are those who read the story yesterday about how that fat hard belly lady crushed my shoulder against the wall of the train, here is proof. I knew if I sat out there long enough she would come by again.  

So, this morning I lay in wait to capture photographic proof!!!

She went off to the bathroom. I took my place on the little jump seat, patiently waiting her return. Then, I saw he at the end of the aisle. I steadied the camera, every muscle tensed. If I did not wait until that rhinoceros belly moved into view on the little screen, I would prove nothing. If I waited a split second too long, I was inviting another crushing blow of my innocent, vulnerable, shoulder between that enormous, firm fatbody and the hard Formica of the trains interior wall. But my loyal  blog fan(s?) deserved to know what I was suffering. 

There, you see it. A big, crushing belly aiming right at my sore shoulder. You cannot tell how firm it is, rock hard and ready to crush and maim. 

I snapped the proof, hopped up, and pressed against the sidewall in hopes of avoiding further injury. It was over. The moment captured in a photo. Proof that roving bellies exist walking along train aisles looking for innocents. 

In examining the photo later, I noticed that I had captured also two sleeping feet. Those who have been following these exploits should recognize them as the feet of the amazing narcoleptic human that keeps me from my rightful seat in my compartment!

This train ride is getting boring. 

When is Now?

I'm having difficulty trying to keep track of time.

Since every day I go to a few churches ( or temples, and even a mosque, depending on where I am) while taking in the sights, I don't try to keep track of when Sunday is. I am in church(es) a lot. It mattered little what day it was out in yert land. On the train every day is the same. 

 Once I went to a museum, but it was closed that day of the week. Other than that, it really has not mattered what day of the week it was.

I do have to worry about the Korean ferry. It is only once a week, on Wednesdays. 

But, really, what time is it? 

To start with. All scheduled times on the train are Moscow times. And so things are five or six or seven hours off, depending on where you are. And since everything out the train windows looks the same, it is hard to tell where one is. Besides, scenery does not tell you what time zone you are in. 

You have to figure where you are by the name of the cities on the occasional stops. But even here, it is tricky. They write 

(Ouch---dang that hurts.    

Sorry, for the interruption,  but that really hurt. 

As I type this, I am sitting in the aisle on a jump seat and everybody is happily squeezing by. I can't sit in my compartment because the two lazy asses who have the bottom seats--that are supposed to be seats by day and beds only at night--have been stretched out for something like 29 hours, leaving me no place to sit besides in the upper bunk. I swear the guy must have slept at least twenty four of those hours. (And now, as I am getting ready to send this up, he is up to about 40 of the 46 hours.   And he is asleep still!!!  How does he do it?!?)

Okay so I'm sitting out here and people have been happily squeezing by. But then this big fat woman comes by, and squashes my  shoulders between the wall and her massive belly. And it was not squishy fat. It was hard, with no give. This pain in my neck/shoulder is always there. But when it gets whacked like that----ouch. It is like somebody stepping on your toe, hard, while hitting your funny bone. Pain, pins and needles and all that. Hard bellied blimpo making my shoulder hurt worse. 

Anyway--back to the thing about losing track of time. )

I was saying it was tricky to tell where you are because the name of the town is written in some kind of code. I don't know what they are trying to hide, since all the Russians seem to know the code. There are backward K's and R's and upside down N's, and mathematical symbols like Pi and Delta. And what's  with putting a 3 in the middle of a word? They have an X with a vertical line in the middle. Even the letters that look real don't say what they are supposed to.  For instance, if you see the letter B, you are supposed to say V. Vowels don't say their names, like they do in American. Real pain in the butt trying to read anything. So, you can't just look out and see where you are.  You have to decode stuff. 

And don't tell me to go by the sun. They put too many clouds up there to get that to work. And  besides, I'm not sure the sun knows what it is supposed to be doing. 

 Last night when my watch said 11:30  pm local time, I looked out the window and the sky was still light. How does that work? 

 

It looks like the train system is also messed up. One attachment I got from Russian rail confirming this trip says I get there at 18:45 August 5. This means 1:45 am August 6.  (See, I told you it was screwy!) The other says 18:45 August 6  which means early morning August 7. Go figure. 

I mean, if the train does not know the day, how am I supposed to keep of when now is?

On The Train Again Again.

I'm 13 hours into a 65 hour train ride. This is the one to Vladivostok. So, when I get there, I will have completed the Trans Siberian-- one of the things I have always wanted to do. 

I will get to Vladivostok at 18:40 something. That's seven o'clock or so in the evening. Unfortunately it is Moscow time,  and will be 1:40 am local. Russia is seven time zones across. 

The ferry leaves at three, and I am supposed to be there at noon. The ferry wharf is next to the train station. I cannot see walking the streets of Vladivostok in the middle of the night to get to the hostel I had reserved.  So I may just sit in the train station till daybreak. I can check my backpack at left luggage and play it by ear from then on. 

The scenery has changed. It looks like West Virginia or Pennsylvania, lots of green hills. The title dachas, farmhouses, etc. look. little nicer, a little richer. 

I wish I could get better pics, but the blogging system I  using is limited to phone pics, and those are taken through a dirty train window, with tinting and glare from solar reflection.  Still largely cloudy. 

Here is a pic the Kazakhs insisted I take last night, showing the historic meeting of Kazakhstan, Cuba, and the oooooh essss. Ahhhhh. Then the Kazakhs drank too much beer, and got mad at each other and started yelling until at least 1:30, making it so I could not sleep when I had to get up at 4:00 to catch a train. 

Star Hop or Goto

I strongly suspect that the only people reading this stuff are my wife Judy and my mother in law Sue. So, the reference in the title to star hopping and goto may not be useful.  But here it is. 

Star hopping is where you use maps, charts, little patterns and pointers in the sky to hunt down whatever you are looking for. Then you look at it. It takes luck, hard work, patience, and time. And it only works most of the time. Then, after looking for a minute or two at your quarry, you spend another fifteen minutes hunting your next object. 

Goto is where you set your telescope up just right, and press a few buttons on the controller, and zip, it goes right to the object. Then you look at it. If you have set everything up right (which can be a challenge), it is simple pie, quick, and effortless. And after looking at the object for a minute or two, you zip off to the next object in a few seconds (or go in and  warm up with some coffee or something).

What you are looking at in astronomy is pretty much the same whether your scope got there by star hopping or goto. 

I like to star hop when doing visual astronomy, but use goto for astroimaging. 

For traveling, I like both star hopping and goto. In travel, star hopping is the way I am doing this trip. Goto is the way I do trips with Judy. 

When Judy and I are going someplace, we often book a tour with Tauck or somebody. We know where we are going, where we will be staying, what sights we will see, and all that. Somebody tells us where to be to meet the bus. Our luggage magically appears in the room, just as and when it should. Food, clean and edible American food, shows up when expected at the table. We never (or at least rarely) get lost. Everybody speaks English. 

Not so when "star hopping," that is, the way I am traveling now. I have to figure out where things are. I have to get maps. I have to guess what the food will be, even as I am ordering it. And sometimes as I am eating it. I have to carry my own bag (even if the little roller things broke way back in Warsaw). North, east and so forth are often not recognizable, and sometimes the map is in a whole different alphabet, not to mention language. 

Everybody else knows where and how to get on the bus, how much and who to pay, and when to get off. But you don't. 

When I do "goto" traveling, I know I am sharing the room with Judy. So, I know who is snoring. (Me). When "star hopping" type of travel , that is, living in the hostel, I have no idea who is snoring, who did not wash his feet, why that idiot has to have a conversation in here while I am trying to sleep. . . . You know. 

But in astronomy, whether star hopping or goto, you see bthe same object. It looks the same. True, the challenge, experience, and for me the satisfaction, is much greater with star hopping. You just get more out if it. (In my opinion.)

Same is true in travel. 

If Tauck or Crystal Cruises had arranged this trip for me, I might have seen the same buildings. But I got to walk around them instead of just driving by. I would have gotten to the Ethnographic Outdoor   Museum in an air conditioned bus instead of a sweaty shared taxi. But I would have been able to walk around only an hour before being whisked off to some overgrown souvenirs store that the claimed was an authentic local artisans workshop. (You know, they show you how a carpet is made for ten minutes and then you have an hour to shop the carpet store. )

There is more to say here.    But the Kazakhs that want me to help eat the dinner they just  made here in the hostel and i am too distracted. So I will just save to the web for now. 

Continuing later.  

And then the guy from Cuba came in and the Kazakhs wanted a historic picture of Cuba, Kazakhstan, and oooesssahhhh together. And so we took the picture.  And now everybody took off or something. So I am sitting here with Russian television. Suddenly alone and quiet. 

I was saying something about traveling like I do I have more experiences than u get on organized tours.   I guess I made my point. Maybe I'll expand in it later. Maybe not. 

RT...Russian Television

I kinda thought the Cold War was over until I was surfing the channels on the hostel television here in Ulan Ude. 

I can only stand so much of the Discovery Channel overdubbed. I mean, who really needs the dialogue in Mythbusters and Ice Road Truckers--but still. 

I found only one channel in English. RT is a standard 24 hour news channel. The weird thing is that it seems to be exclusively centered on US news. And it seems to be really negative about the U S. 

For instance, yesterday as I was spreading my peanut butter over a tasty roll, there was an piece about how the FDA allows certain additives and preservatives in American food while the EU does not. There was no mention that Russia also allows these additives. This morning the talking heads are complaining that Wal- mart and fast foods do not provide a living wage in the US. No mention of wage standards here. 

They are pushing an upcoming special about surveillance cameras in the US. Like they don't have them here? Remember all those shots of the Chelyabinsk meteor explosion? They were all security camera shots. 

You can imagine their coverage of the Snowden thing. 

I'm not saying we are wonderful and they are not. I'm just wondering why the only English language channel is:

1. Exclusively focused on the US

And

2. It is so focused on the negative

Who would be watching it? 

Why?

Just thinking. 

Back in Ulan Ude

Everything went wonderful today--almost everything. 

I had to catch a bus early, and so I told everybody in the hostel to get me up early. One lady promised she would get it done because she was a light sleeper and early riser. 

I set two alarms and did not sleep much worrying about whether I would get up in time. Then about four o'clock I noticed the light sleeper/early waker's bed was empty. She was already awake.  No problem. She would wake me. Relax. But I could not go back to sleep. So at 5:00 I got up to shower. The lady was not around outside in the common room but as I walked back in, I saw her in a different bed than where she had gone to sleep. She waved at me and, noticing my quizzical look said "I moved.   Bedbugs "

OK, I thought.  Good reason to move. But is it really possible to have a six bunkbed dorm and have bedbugs in just one? Can you move away from them? And how does she know they were there? Don't you find out only the next morning?

Any ways, I headed out the door worrying whether I would get any taxi, and especially one at the proper price. It was barely 6:00 in the morning. By the time I had gotten to the sidewalk, I had two taxis drawing a bead on me. But a third made a wild u-turn in front if them. I showed him the little piece of paper that I had asked the hostel manager to write the destination and price (voxhall 4000t). He said "yup." I got in and boom all my worries were over. 

I was relieved because I had a real problem a few days ago getting back from Mongolia. I got attacked by about five taxi drivers who wanted 10000 to get me to the hostel. I said 6000 since that is what my hostel manager said it should cost. (And what I had paid a week ago to get to the bus station. ) Nobody wanted to go to 6000. So I started to walk away, and two guys came up and said come with them. I said 6000 and wrote it on the card for the hostel ( with the map) and showed it to them. They said "yes," using universal sign language if not words.  They take me to their car, which already has a driver and another guy in it. I show the card and the number 6000 on it. He says," yeah, and shakes his head up and down. I put my luggage in the trunk (something I don't like to do because it can be held as hostage. )

(I am writing this while drinking a really bad beer. It is Ulan Ude local and tastes sour like the fermented mares milk in the yurts.    But I finished it.  ) 

So I get in the taxi ( remember--every car in this part of the world is a taxi. You just have to pay to get a ride. ) I got me and two guys in back, the driver and a passenger in front. And my luggage in the trunk. The crew is just out looking for a way to get somebody to pay for their night out. They are driving the right direction. Finally, I get them to pull over near my hostel. ( They had no idea where it was, but had gotten close with the map card and my directions. ) so, they stop. I get out, And magically the trunk opens, my stuff is out. I hand the guy the 6000 and he says 10000. I say 6000. He gets mad and starts shouting. I show him the card that says 6000. He just yells some more and says 10 with his fingers. I hand out 6000. He starts to walk away without it, turn sand takes it, then storms back to the drivers seat. I start crossing the street to the hostel. The driver is making a hasty u turn right back my way. I did not look back, but hurried on, finished crossing the street and hurried in the door. 

No such problem today. Just got on the bus and twelve hours later pulled into Ulan Ude. I had made reservations at ones hostel but when u got there was told they were full, but had made a place for me at a hostel a kilter or so away. And up six flights of stairs. 

I was disappointed because that was an additional kilometer away from the train station.  And in a couple of days I have to leave from there at 5:00 am.    But I found another good hostel nearby. And all is well. 

Yertland

I have been down in central Mongolia, northern end of Gobi desert. 

Five days of trekking through the desert by foot, camel, and horse cart, jeep, and motorcycle was quite interesting. Fed by local herder families. Drank fermented mares milk. Ate goat cheese (what the lady is making below). Saw lots of rocks, sand, and goats, sheep, horses and some big beetles. Slept in tents and yerts. 

Only electricity was solar. And that was just enough to run the televisions and cell phones. 

There is a lot to say about this segment of the trip. Suffice for now to leave it at: "glad I did it, and it is good to be back." 

Ger To Ger

So here I am in the Ger to Ger offices. This is the company that offers travel experiences that let you live with families in their yurts (yerts, or gers). Out in the Gobi desert. Or near it. 

Anyway.   (Now it is twelve hours later.) saw a monastery, a beautiful museum, and lots else. Also had a four hour lecture orientation for the yert trip. 

I have to pack now. Maybe I will write more as I get ready for sleeping. 

Where I am going for five dsys has, I am told, no electricity.  So don't expect communication for a while. 

In Ulanbatar At Last

I am in a strange land today. 

Saw an old guy on my bus wearing a Ghengis Khan t-shirt. Yup, this is where it happened. 

My day started with google telling me that they had blocked my account. So I could not send out the long blog I had about the trip from Irkutsk. And it has apparently disappeared. So I have to rewrite it. I will later. 

The bus ride today was long. Thirteen some hours out of a promised 11. Three of that was border crossing. No real glitches, but it was forever. 

Mongolia had a few trees far north, but several hundred kilometers ago, it gave way to rolling hills and flat fields covered with sparse grass, an occasional yurt, lots if wandering cows (including on the highway slowing traffic). A couple of times I even saw herds of horses running along. Really pretty. 

I was real proud of myself. Got to the city and a couple of taxi hustlers wanted to get me to go into the center. Told me it was seven kilometers. I even  found what I assumed was an English couple in the station who sis it would cost me 10000 ($6) to get to town. I decided I would take taxi, but needed money first. It was hard to find bankomat, but I did, and got the money. On the way back to taxi stand, I found a bus. I figured--why not?

I asked the conductor. At first she did not understand, but when I showed her the map and pointed at the big square she knew exactly what I was talking about. So, for 400, I was going to get a ride that would have cost 10000 in a taxi. You get what you pay for. 

The conductor told me what I assumed meant she would tell me when to get off. Even named the street. Following along on My map, I got up and moved to the exit at the right time. She said wait. I did three stops later she tells me it was my street (by name) and that my street was "back there," pointing. What she did not say was that it was about a mile back there. 

Anyway, I got here. 

Religion in Russia

I don't have any iPhone pictures to post on this topic. And I have no access to a card reader to download pics.  So, no pics for now!!!

The minibus driver yesterday had a battery operated prayer wheel spinning on his dashboard. 

In Moscow I saw more than a few icons hanging from rear view mirrors in cars. To my western mind these looked like Russian St. Christopher medals. 

More than a few times I wandered into churches in Moscow or Irkutsk where I saw active worship going on.

Along the Moscow River last week, I was excluded from a church because I was wearing shorts. ( So I zipped on my legs, went back in, and watched about three hundred parishioners as a herd of priests conducted some really solemn mass--incense, procession, call and response chanting, a full choir..., really glorious.)

Today on Olkhon Island, I am in one of the five holy shamanic places in the world. (I don't know what that means, exactly. But it has religious significance. ) This place has prayer flags hung around nearly every vertical support--tree, fence post, whatever. 

Irena, the Moscow tour guide, says she was secretly baptized when she was a child, as many others were. 

And next week I am going to Mongolia. Although it is now an independent country, it was one of the former Soviet Socialist Republics for most of the last century, and therefore in the same boat as Russia itself under the communists. And my "list" for Mongolia includes a few monasteries. 

Suffice it to say that,  despite atheistic communist rule for seven decades, religion survived. I'm not saying it was easy. Stalin had more than a few churches destroyed, one famously because it impeded the flow of processions into Red Square. And Irena's baptism was "secret."

Other churches and monasteries were turned into museums of religion. 

One of the things Russians were talking about, I was told, around the time they were first exploring space was whether the cosmonauts would be able to see god. When Gargarin said yes, that he thought he could, Kruschev suppressed the comment. 

In general, while there was little that said one could not actually practice religion, the church itself suffered, and its more vocal supporters were marginalized. 

Part of Marx's seminal Communist Manifesto decried religion as "the opiate of the people." So there was a philosophical basis for the communist government to disparage religion. The Manifesto's reason for its attitude towards religion is interesting: the problem with religion is that it made people give up on improving things in this world because they were interested only in the next. Marx felt people should concentrate in this world. But religion dulled that sentiment just as opium dulls the real needs if the addict. It is hard to get the proletariat to throw off their chains if they know chains are only in this world, and they care only about the next. 

Curiously, this philosophical argument was not the real reason the church suffered under godless communism. The communists did not like religion mostly because the church had power. It was, along with the czar, the Establishment. If the communists wanted to take over, they had to cut off the church's power, just as they had eliminated the czar. 

If the church had not been also a political power, it would probably have been ignored. So, what the communists focused on was breaking its influence. Once that was done, the church was left somewhat alone. People were even allowed to practice their religion. I attended a mass forty years ago, and saw dozens of young seminarians studying in Yaroslavl at that time. And, as Irena is proof, people were being baptized in 1988. 

Watching a Russian orthodox service is pretty difficult. Some of it takes place behind an iconostasis that hides the action. It takes hours. (When I said I saw a mass back in 1973, I should have said I saw part of one in an hour or so.

i have some pics to illustrate se of this, but it will have to wait for a better Internet connection. 

Astronomy in Olkhon Island

Ok, so I am walking down a dirt road, coming back from the beach, looking for a little store to buy a beer for dinner ( the "board" in "room and board" at this place   includes three square meals, but nothing except coffee and tea for drinking). 

So, among the souvenirs stalls, cheap cafes, and all that you find in most tourist places, what should I find but one of those blow up planetariums where you pay a few bucks (probably rubles) crawl in, and see the constellations on the inside of the dome. I did not expect to see one of these. 

No, I did not go in. 

Instead I did something I do not think I have ever done before in my whole life. I went  a store and bought one can of beer. 

i had seen other guys do it. Buy just one tall can of beer. Usually one of those stronger beers that i don't know the names of. Mickeys or Malt liquor or something.  I looked at them, the guys buying one can of high alcohol beer. I looked at the way they were dressed, and how they carried themselves kinda down low and humble. And I wondered what circumstances drove those people to buy just one can. Why not a six pack or whatever? Did they not have a few left in the fridge from last week's six pack? 

Well, anyway, now I am one of them and I understand. They live at a boarding house that does not serve beer for dinner!

 More astronomy: I have thought about a starscape of the big rock on the lake here. But, really, as of 11:30 last night it was still light enough that there we were essentially starless. I was trying to go to sleep, but couldn't because of the caffeine in the too much tea I had for dinner. That is why I had to find the beer tonight. To avoid the caffeine. For health reasons. 

Update woke up in the middle of the night. The pointers in the Big Dipper were real high, and pointing south to the North Star. 

Olkhon Island

I am on on Olkhon Island, a long stretch of land near the western coast of Lake Baikal. The view above is from the cliff just outside my room. 

To get here, we bought a ticket at the hostel, and went downstairs and waited for the van. It was 90 minutes late. Eventually, though, it got there, picked us up, and dropped us at the.minibus station in town. There we joined a dozen others headed to Olkhon, We reached the ferry station after three o clock, but were told there was a four hour wait. Our driver figured he could get there quicker if he went across into the other lane ( the one drivers going the other way are supposed to use). He was right. We passed a lot of cars waiting properly in line and an hour later were boarding the ferry for the quick trip to the south end of the island. 

Once on the island there was no paved road. The roads on the mainland had been rough enough. These were worse. 

At one point, the mini bus could not make it up the hill. We all got out. The driver backed down the hill, took a running start, and reloaded us at the top. Finally at six o'clock we got to town. 

When we pulled in, we were dropped off at various places. I was worried because I had been told there was no room for me in the hostel, but that they would find me a room I could share with another tourist with a local neighbor family.  I envisioned living in some spare room with the family milling around. In fact the neighbor had a two story guest house with four purpose built guest rooms on a cliff overlooking the lake. There was in fact, no "family" around. And since they were not sold out, I had a room to myself with a great view.

Only way it could have been better would have been a sit down toilet instead of a squatter. (And heaven had it been en suite. )

This is quite a place. 

Status Report

The trip is proceeding successfully. I am heading back to Irkutsk today. 

Minor things have come up. My glasses broke and the two spares are also broken, but usable. Sunglasses broke. ( Actually, theses were the spare sunglasses. The pair i bought for the trip were apparently missing the nose pad on one side, which i caught on the way to the airport.  So, I took the pair that live in the car for my primary. ) Now the spare sunglasses are getting flaky. 

The rolling suitcase/ backpack has broken such that it no longer rolls well. This is a big difficulty since it means a whole lot more caring instead of rolling.  

Money is holding out good. Visa is working no problems. Have been exchanging dollars. I had brought excess in case visa did not work in ATMs. 

Clothes laundry is expensive, but I have had luck finding service every place I stayed. 

I had a bit of stomach/intestine problems, but nothing major. The other day I felt feverish, weak, and all. But I managed to make it through a lazy day with a little hiking, the beach, and such. 

My neck/shoulder problem I started in Alaska got better after the hip shots in the Czech, but came back a little. And Thursday I may have started it all up again when I had to lift my bag to top of minibus!!!! Update-- yes, it is back and hurts.    

The leg problem got a lot better, but still nags, particularly at night and in morning. After a little use it just nags. 

I am off to Irkutsk, then to Ulan Ude and Mongolia. I am a day late for my scheduled trip into the Gobi, but I think they will flex a bit. We'll see. 

Update. Finally after eight and a half hours am back in Irkutsk. I will post some things written on Olkhon island. They are out of order. 

The Hostel

I'm in Irkutsk, the "Paris of Siberia." 

Don't ask me how it got that name. Standing on the corner of Lenin Street and Karl Marks Avenue I did not see anything looking like l'Etoile. But maybe that was just me.  Don't get me wrong. Pretty enough city. But not Paris. 

This is Nerpa hostel lobby. A Nerpa is a fresh water seal as found in lake Baikal. Good hostel. Clean and staff is very knowledgeable about local, travel, etc. extremely helpful. I spent an hour or so last night explaining astronomy and imaging to the manager last night. Even looked At my website. She stayed awake the whole time ( of course, she was on duty). 

Today I go to  Olkhon island in middle of lake. No phone or Internet. Will see if I can blog or not blog. 

Leg better but not whole. Intestinal cramps made me drop into the Marriott yesterday without a reservation for a few minutes. Nice bathroom. Real nice bathroom. 

Dates on Mongolian portion having problems. I hope I get to go to my gers !!!!  

Anyway, I'm off soon. 

On the Train Again

I say again because I am in the sixty-second of seventy-five hours of this train ride.

That won't be my personal best. I once spent 85 hours going from Istanbul to Teheran. Luckily for me, this train had no grizzled old man trying to steal my boots at knife point like there was in Turkey. 

A couple of nights ago, we had a few hills around Ekaterinburg, where the last czar and his family were dispatched ( except Anastasia, etc. ). This is when we were crossing the Urals, the dividing line between Europe and Asia. I can't say that I was impressed with the Urals, because they were so small.   But, hey, they mark a big border!!!

The whole day looked like this. 

 ( sorry. I cannot upload the movie. )

We had a few station stops, including Novosibirsk, a huge city with a huge river.     

Otherwise the day was  grasslands, an occasional stand of trees, and flatness to make Kansas proud. 

This morning we have clear sunny skies with big puffy clouds over a rolling landscape. Local time is about four hours off train time, which is getting weird. 

We pass little villages now and then. I am told some of the little houses are residences. But a number are "dachas," which I always thought were fancy country estates. In fact, they are any summer cottage. The city people go there, tend vegetable gardens, and drink vodka. 

My Russian family got off the train, and were replaced  by a man and wife, and a single woman. She is also going to Irkutsk. This is good, because I was worried about getting up at 2:27 am Moscow time. Now somebody else in the compartment will be getting off with me. 

I was hungry, and went for the peanut butter and bread in my stash. The bread had turned moldy, though. So I just had peanut butter. 

I dropped an open liter and a half of coke in the hallway, and it joyously erupted all over the place--walls, window, dribbling on the floors of two compartments. Managed to wipe it up with my towel, but things are still tacky. Luckily I am leaving this place in 13 hours!!!

We stopped at a station and I bought two hard boiled eggs for 20 rubles. That is about 33cents each. They were so good I went back and got two more. That was lunch or dinner.  Hard to tell what is what here. It is 7:30 local time and the sun is still real high above some horizon. But it is only 3:30 in the afternoon Moscow time. It is hard to adjust. 

I wrote about it once, but I believe it was on one of the posts that got lost in transmission. The train itself is fairly slow. Intercity trains in Europe travel at up to 150 kilometers per hour. They don't average that, but cruise at that. This train will take more than 70 hours to go some 5100 kilometers. We are as i type going as fast as we ever travel and what little experience I have with trains which indicate their speed on the cars info window, we are traveling only  90 to maybe 100 kilometers per hour. 

Irena's observations

I told you the other day about how Irena was proud to be born in the Soviet Union and raised in Russia. 

Here are some other comments. 

She told me as we walked along that she had taken a tour with a Russian guide lately to see if there were any pointers or info she could pick up. She noticed that he did not have to look around, or count his group or anything. All thirty-something Russians in the group just stayed right with the group,following along, none of them separating. She said that would never happen with a western group. Westerners go off on their own, linger, and in all sorts of ways steer their own course, even with a tour group.

At one point, Irena described the past under communism, comparing it to the present under capitalism. Back then, the government pretty much decided what was needed. They trained "the best engineers, had doctors second to none in the world,"...etc. she said. "Now the best students are going only onto business courses, and engineering, medicine, and the like suffer. " Where have we heard that?

Irena ended every tour with a Group hug in a big circle, and a plea for world peace. 

On the Train

While I am fully stocked with lots of styrofoam noodle stuff, I wanted to eat in the dining car at least once. This is what 500 rubles gets me. (Thats about $15. ):  A breaded chicken filet, pan fried, some tomatoes, onion, etc. all mixed up, a side plate of boiled potatoes, and, of course, a beer. The food was good the setting was nice, cruising through what I guess are the steppes of Siberia (grasslands with occasional stretches of trees). One downside: I'm really not accustomed to people lighting up in a restaurant. And when I smelled smoke while eating, I did not like it. Surprise, surprise...it was the waiter. 

While i was back at dinner we had a twenty minute stop in a town named Barabinsk. We have these stops about every four hours. It is a chance for people to get off the train and get some fresh air. The train is comfortably air conditioned, with no openable windows. So people jump off to get some air. It is also where the smokers jump off to smoke. They are allowed to smoke between the wagons, and it really smells there. At any rate, while it is nice to get the air, one must be aware of the number of smokers. 

This is what the stop looked like Omsk. People milling around. People smoking. Lots of people buying food and drink for the train. They deliver some packages and do some train stuff and send us off again for another four hours. 

A few things of astronomical nature:

I saw the shadow of the earth at twilight last night. It was not like we see it at landers. At GMARS it seems to cover the whole horizon, a broad band. Last night it  was much more of a curved arc, much higher in altitude than in width. 

Secondly, the moon hung over what I assumed was a southwest horizon. But it may have been west. It is hard to get a reliable compass reading on a train. The funny thing is that the lit half was pointing down, not on my right as we usually see it. It was neatly midnight local time. But the sky was still bright. One could easily read outdoors in the light. 

Now, a note about time. It is always Moscow time on a Russian train. But Russia had something like seven time zones. For instance, I get off this train at 02:27 a couple of mornings from now. No, that is not the middle of the night, but 7:27 am. 

One more note. Last night at midnight, local time, we were looking out the window. It was light. Out. The sun had gone down officially some ninety minutes ago. But nautical twilight was so long that evening's  dusk merged right into dawn's. it never got dark. 

I had to put my hoodie on for a while today. We had drizzle on Omsk area. It had been hot in Moscow. I was in shorts the whole te except when the church made me zip the legs on. Now it is back to half clear/half clouds. P

I took a movie of the scenery. But this program won't let me post it. I'll get it to you later. 

Back to Humor

Ok, take a good look at this building. 

See how it is NOT symmetrical...

The left and right wings have different facades. This is the Moscow Hotel, originally built under Joseph Stalin. 

Why not symmetrical?

Well, the architects submitted the plans to old Joe. Their drafts had two proposed facades, allowing Stalin to make the final design choice. 

Stalin wrote "approved" and signed off on the project. But the architects could not determine which of the facades he had chosen, and were afraid to ask for fear Stalin would think they thought he had made a mistake. 

So they built one facade on one face and the other on the other side. 

Not only interesting, but apparently TRUE!!! I have heard and seen this story in various sources--not just the Internet. 

More interesting yet. Apparently the building was not well built or something and not long ago was torn down and completely rebuilt. But, the architect decided to keep the quirky asymmetry. 

Another story about communism. In the eighties two businessmen met in a Moscow bar. They got into an argument about their respective political systems.  The American says to his Russian counterpart, "But  you do not have freedom here, Dmitri. In my country I can stand in Times Square and yell at the top of my lungs;  'the American government is corrupt. Reagan is a liar.' You cannot do that here "

"But certainly I can," Dmitry responded. "I can stand up in Red Square and shout out loud 'the American government is corrupt. Reagan is a liar.' And nobody will arrest me. 

That one was probably not a true story. Another one Irena the tour guide liked to tell was to ask the Americans what was so good about their democracy when we could not even tell who our president might be until the last minute. "Here in Russia," she jokingly bragged, "we can tell months in advance."

She also said some people say "Russia does not have a democracy. We have a Putinocracy "

But what I really got a kick out of was Irena saying how proud she was to be born in the Soviet Union, and raised in Russia. She was very, very proud to be who she was.