On dining alone

Frequent travel builds up a lot of skills, and perhaps the one that I have honed the most over the last few years has been learning to dine alone. It’s not as easy as it seems – I have memories of wandering the streets of Barcelona or Paris feeling too self-conscious to take a meal at a proper café, and instead subjecting myself to terrible fast food options. It was a sad state of affairs, one that I suspect afflicts all too many people, especially the casual traveler on his or her first solo jaunt. The good news is that I’ve managed to get past all that. I now boldly eat wherever I please, and have learned to really appreciate those solo meals. So the next time you find yourself in a culinary capital needing a table for only one, here are some thoughts on how to beat that nagging feeling of being quietly judged.

• Confidence is essential. And really, there’s no reason for you not to have it – despite silly social judgments and conventions, there’s nothing _wrong_ with lone dining. So ask for your table for one with timber in your voice.
• Bring a book. My preference is something engaging, but also a little demanding. David Foster Wallace rather than Snowcrash. I also enjoy reading the local English-language daily to get some flavor for local controversies.
• A notebook is also a plus. Eating alone gives you time to think, what with being freed of the obligation to make conversation, and you should make the most of it. Where do you think this got written?
• I’d also suggest leaving the laptop in the hotel room safe. A laptop is just too attention-grabbing and makes it unlikely that you will spend any time making observations. Take your notes on paper. A nice bonus is that this makes you look more intellectual and less like a hipster.
• You obviously shouldn’t be drinking yourself into a stupor, but a glass or two is OK by me. There’s no reason to subject yourself to meal after meal with water and soda, and almost anywhere will have local wine or beer that’s worth checking out.
• Choose your spot wisely. You don’t want to be eating alone at the Cheesecake Factory. I suggest tapas and the like – places that will give you small portions (so you can sample a lot of things) and have some atmosphere.
• And finally, I’ve always found that a good way to forget about being silently judged is to spend time silently judging others! People smoking near their kids (harder to spot in the US, but easy elsewhere), fellow tourists ordering in boisterous English or demanding that their food arrive “rapido”, or just plain old ridiculous hipsters – the possibilities for looking down on others for fun are endless.

Now you can go forth and eat alone, and never worry about having to cower in shame in a McDonald’s in Shanghai.  You can thank me later.

Estonia is not the melting pot you think it is

I happen to be of the opinion that being black can make time in Europe more interesting. Sometimes, it’s the bad type of interesting – the (very occasional) dirty look, the certainty that the polizei boarding the train at the border will want to see your passport – but sometimes it makes for a pretty good story.

Take, for example, my visit to the fairly small and definitely very white city of Tallinn, Estonia. While there, I had the good fortune to pop into a place called “Vale Bar” on the edge of the medieval old town, a cozy establishment whose main attraction was that it seemed to have a higher proportion of locals and a lower proportion of prostitutes than your average Tallinn pub. We had just settled into some free spots at the bar and were happily talking to some German air force pilots*about Bavaria when we (well, I) caught the eye of an Estonian who had clearly had a lot to drink. At first, his particular interest in me wasn’t obvious – he asked the usual questions about where we were from, etc. My response (California**), however, made him noticeably more animated. “You?! California? You?!” Well, yes. I mean, I’m not from there originally, but it’s where I live now and besides – there are plenty of people in California who look like me.

Hopes of not having to converse with the deeply inebriated quickly faded, and the following happened:

- After being informed that I was drinking Jameson whiskey, he responded that Scottish whiskey (nb: Jameson is Irish) was “shit”, and that I should be drinking Jim Beam or Jack Daniels, or, and this was confusing, something Irish (?!).

- He then followed through on this request/demand by buying me multiple glasses of Jack Daniels. While free alcohol is always nice, this meant I needed to continue intermittently answering his shouts. Now I know how women feel when they have drinks bought for them.

- It also meant that I felt obliged to indulge his request for a photo with the two of us. The photo request has happened before, and though I think it is really very very rude unless you have just given me directions or we have been chatting happily for a while, I usually don’t mind doing it. In this case, though, I might have refused if not for the drinks, since I was seriously worried about being vomited on given his state.

- I’m glad I indulged him though, because once the photo was taken, he announced excitedly that he had “another one”, and proceeded to show me a picture of him with some other random black person. Because he is apparently a collector, which is of course awesome.

- Then he gave me an incredibly disgusting shot involving tabasco and ouzo, and also spent a lot of time informing a nearby Englishman that one of his (the Brit’s) body parts was quite tiny and flaccid. He also grabbed the breasts of a neighbouring woman whom he did not seem to know, but who also had literally no reaction (??), so… there was that. As far as I was concerned, this series of events absolved me of any obligation to purchase drinks in return – not only was he clearly already far too drunk, but he was also being a total asshole.

Soon after all this, we left the bar and headed to a different pub, satisfied that we had gotten a good dose of Tallinn flavour. And that’s what travel’s all about.

* – One of whom we would later see heading out of a different bar with one of the aforementioned prostitutes.

** – When I’m not in the Anglosphere, I generally answer the “where are you from” question with where I live, as explaining Trinidad’s existence/location over and over again is exhausting, especially to non-English speakers. One exception is with people from India, who are generally familiar with Trinidad due to cricket.

Accidental truth in advertising

Appropriate

Originally uploaded by EMParillon

Through the magic of Dutch, Axe reveals their target market.

I went to Barbados with a camera – #4

IMG_2092

Originally uploaded by EMParillon

Decided to do one more of these.

On our last full day on Barbados, Jen and I decided to drive through the southern half of the country, visiting a few rugged beaches and taking in the seemingly unending fields of sugar cane. The highlight, though, was Hackleton’s Cliff. We only ended up there because I randomly saw a sign pointing to it, and vaguely remembered it from maps I’d looked at as a child. We followed the signs, and after a series of winding roads and blind corners, came to what appeared to be a dead end. The road petered out into some bushes, and other than a slab of concrete and a short wire fence on our right, and some chattel houses to the left and behind us, there was nothing to be seen.

Given that we were expecting a cliff, this was something of a disappointment, and we weren’t really sure what to do. I noticed a sign on the fence, and so I ran across the small patch of grass to read it. Upon reaching the fence though, I saw what you see here – a breathtaking view of almost all of Barbados’ east coast. It was some of the most impressive scenery we’d seen on our entire trip, and was made even better by being able to appreciate it completely alone – no tour buses or other tourist mobiles ventured this far. The surprise of a stunning view – you can’t see it _at all_ from the road – behind a totally unremarkable fence only enhanced it. One of my all-time favourite discoveries, and a great way to end a visit to Bim.

No bombs in the seatback pocket

If you’ve bought a ticket to London recently, you know that the Brits are choosing to fight the emissions caused by flying by levying pretty big taxes on each flight. In the US, we’re going with the approach of making flying completely intolerable instead:

The Federal Aviation Administration said Monday that airlines whose flight attendants had been telling passengers that no personal items of any kind could be placed in seatback pockets were “following our guidance, if they are enforcing this with travelers.”

The agency’s response came after numerous inquiries following a flight I made from Denver to Tucson operated by SkyWest Airlines, on which the flight attendant announced before takeoff that, as a safety measure, nothing could be placed in seatback storage pockets — no eyeglasses, no ticket stubs, no iPods or bottles of water or magazines.

This is obviously a big hassle for over-electroniced passengers like me, but it’s also yet another example of a total failure to understand opportunity costs. While the flight attendant is busily looking to see whether you’ve snuck an iPod into your seatback pocket, he or she is unable to spend that time doing things that might actually enhance safety, or, God forbid, improve the enjoyment of your flight. Thanks, FAA.

Myth bunked

I happened across this article on travel myths while looking at flights for a trip to Europe (well targeted, Bing). Most of the myths the author cites are, in fact, myth, and the debunking is well executed. However, the myth that serves as the jumping off point was irritating:

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Two travel professionals, my dinner companions in Coventry, England, had just told me that they hadn’t been to London in years. Just a two-hour train ride away from shopping, theater and royal pageantry, and they didn’t go every other weekend?

 

“It’s cheaper and easier to get on a plane to Spain out of Birmingham, to tell the truth,” one explained. “Way cheaper, really. So, London versus Costa Brava? Two hundred pounds versus 50? Rain, sun?” He held his hands up in the universal shifting-weight scale.

 

That was my first clue that the famous axiom about getting around Europe — that trains are best — is a fable from simpler times. I later verified the truth of this on a three-week family trek around Scandinavia. We rented a car, spent less (far less) than it would have cost us on trains, and had infinitely more flexibility to wander up and down little country lanes.

 

When I did a little more research, I confirmed that my friends were right after all. The advent of low-cost airlines has made air travel cheaper, quicker and more convenient than rail. For instance, a flight on Easyjet from London to Paris in September costs $108; passage through the Chunnel on the Eurostar is $195.

So many problems with this. First off, he was talking to people in the UK, which almost certainly has the worst trains in Western Europe.  When people think of excellent european trains, they think of the TGV or Deustche Bahn, *not* First Great Western and the other Tory-created disasters.

Second, the question of whether to fly or train is largely driven by the city pairs in question, as well as how much you value your time and comfort. The author brings up a London – Paris journey, and yes, Easyjet is cheaper, but you will have to get to Luton, deal with the disaster that airports have become, and then arrive half an hour outside of Paris. The more expensive Eurostar will take you from city center to city center with much less hassle. The author is confusing cheaper with better – you can only equate the two when the same service is being provided.

Sorry, I just had to stick up for the trains of Europe, especially as we try to get some SUPERTRAINS built stateside.

At least someone’s asking

A follow up to yesterday's complaint:

Attorney General John Jeremie is expected to advise Government on whether Chaguanas MP Jack Warner can pay the wages of 54 workers of the Chaguanas Borough Corporation. This was revealed yesterday by Local Government Minister Hazel Manning. Speaking to reporters at Claxton Bay during a tour of flood affected areas yesterday, Manning said a big issue had arisen following Warner’s decision to hand over a cheque for $309,000 to pay the workers.

“We have just got information that a private citizen has paid money towards the payment of salaries and we have gone to the attorney general to get guidance on this. “That is not the norm. We are concerned that this region has obtained over $300,000 from a private citizen to pay wages. That money is not in our books and we have now gone to the attorney general to get advice on what should be done. The attorney general will be able to guide us,” Manning said.
She said it was in May that the Government found out the corporation, under the former mayor, had hired more staff.

Good.

Our unquestioning media

Articles like this make me crazy. They couldn't find a single person to question the ethics of a borough accepting a massive donation from a private citizen? What if Jack Warner needs approval from Chaguanas to build something in the future? Are we to expect that he will be treated just like anyone else? Isn't the fact that he obviously won't a problem?

These are questions that our journalists should be asking, but instead they are meeting with Manning to learn how to sit down and shut up.

Dog whistle politics of the left – travel website edition?

Spotted this scene with a little dog-whistle for gay rights supporters in a recent Orbitz ad:

I guess we know how Orbitz feels about Prop 8! This isn’t the first time Orbitz has slipped the gay friendliness into an ad, by the way. You wonder when the radical clerics of the Southern Baptist church are going to call for a boycott.

Single issue blogging I can believe in

If you want to know about people’s experiences with the recent visa waiver agreement between some Caribbean countries and the EU, check this out. I’m going in September, and I’ll be keeping a close eye on which countries seem to have informed their immigration clerks!