Saturday, October 2, 2010
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Weekend in Slovakia
So I was reminded, as I took fifteen minutes to explain to my buddy Scott about my weekend in Košice, Slovakia, that I really enjoy telling people about my travels. And then I remembered that I hadn’t written anything about that trip even though it was rather interesting. Better nate than lever, here goes another long trip e-mail:
I was going to be in Hungary over a weekend, being there for an unusually-long nine business days due to a couple of big projects I was responsible for. My previous two trips to Debrecen, in October and November 2009, were not the most fun of trips and didn’t leave me with happy memories of the place. Therefore, I couldn’t imagine staying there by myself for the weekend; I had to get out. But where to go?
I felt I needed to completely get out of Hungary, try my hand at a new culture and get a new travel challenge. Not that getting around Hungary is easy but I know enough of the language and the culture to not feel worried in most travel-related situations. Time to shake things up and get out of the country.
If you look at a map of Eastern Europe, you’ll see that Eastern Hungary is quite close to Romania, Ukraine and Slovakia. Here’s a map for ya:
http://www.neiu.edu/~ajmichae/387/hyperlinks/hyperlink%20map/slovakia.gif
A work colleague recommended I visit Transylvania which would have been great except that a) it would have required 8-9 hours on a train to get there and b) would not have felt right being there without Jennifer. To use a baseball metaphor, I didn’t need to hit a home run, just get on base. There are no trains to the Ukraine and some co-workers told me that Romania is a total culture shock from Hungary so that left Slovakia. Hey, it’s part of the European Union so it shouldn’t be a big change. Besides, part of it used to be part of Hungary though apparently a lot of Hungarians still resent that they lost it after World War I (as well as parts of Romania, Serbia, Croatia and the Ukraine). I settled on the town of Košice (koh-sheetz-ay) since I could get there by train in about three hours. Perfect.
If you’re curious, here’s the website I used for the train schedules:
http://elvira.mav-start.hu/elvira.dll/xslms/uf
Košice is a town of over 200,000 people but has a touristy center and is nestled in a valley between hills of a height I wasn’t sure of but anything is better than the flat plain where Debrecen lies.
The train ride would be around three hours total and would require switching trains in Miskolcs (pronounced Meesh-koltz), Hungary. I could leave at 8am and be in Košice by 11, just in time for a nice little lunch and a solid afternoon of wandering around. That way I didn’t have to hurry to leave work on Friday and could spend a leisurely Friday evening playing soccer with my buddy Misi and the Under-20 soccer team he coaches.
The next morning at 7:15 I caught a cab down to the train station and waited patiently for my train. I know the drill now for making sure I’m on the right one (no more late night excursions to Monor and Szolnok for me!) and had no problem finding my proper seat. I would only have nine minutes to get to the proper platform in Miskolcs to catch the train to Košice but I’d been assured the trains run on time so there wouldn’t be a problem. Too bad nobody told the people running my train as we rolled into Miskolcs 25 minutes late...
I walked through the Miskolcs station looking for my train in case it was late but nope, it had already departed. Wonderful. I wondered why the ticket people in Debrecen had sold me a voucher for a train ticket to Košice at any time rather than a ticket for that specific train (not that was the exact reason but you never know). I went to the ticket counter and confirmed what I already knew: the next train to Košice wouldn’t leave until 7pm or so that night. Great.
Košice is only an hour or so away from Miskolcs; maybe I could catch a bus, I thought. I went outside to get a cab to the bus station, thinking that would be my ticket. There were several cabs outside and the driver of the nearest, a mustachioed gent in his 50s, started to take my bags when I explained to him in my wonderful combination of Hungarian and body gestures that I had missed my train and was going to the bus station to get to Košice. When he heard I was going to Košice (Kassa in Hungarian, which many still use) his ears perked up. He said he could take me there for sixty euros, about $80. I explained that no, I wanted to take the bus. He pointed at his watch and shook his head, indicating the next bus wouldn’t leave until quite late. Normally I’m very suspicious of cab drivers and I didn’t completely trust this guy but I just motioned to him that I needed to go sit on a nearby bench and think.
So I thought. NI could cover the fifty euros no problem but I hate to possibly waste money. I thought about it. Even if I were to catch a bus that left at say, noon, I would lose a couple of precious hours in Košice. And it’s more likely there wouldn’t be a bus leaving soon anyway. Hmm...
As I was pondering my circumstances (I won’t say predicament because, well, I was getting to spend a weekend somewhere in Europe, even if it was Miskolcs), the same cab driver approached me again (there weren’t very many people needing cabs that day). This time he didn’t say anything but instead just held out his cell phone. On the viewscreen all I saw was ‘50’. Fifty euros, 65 dollars. That was a bit better. I pointed at my head and then my wrist indicating I still needed time to think though I had already made my decision; screw it, I was taking the cab. I’d get there much faster, the company could cover it and if he was talkative I might learn a few things. Even if the cost would be a bit prohibitive I was staying in a hotel that cost half the price of the standard NI hotel; the company could throw me a bone. I sat for another minute just because and then wandered over to him with a smile on my face, indicating to him that I would be utilizing his services to get me to my destination. 45 I told him, typing it into his cell phone. He looked at me and shook his head. 50. I had already gotten him down by ten and who am I to try to nickel and dime the guy, especially since that kind of money would only get you ten miles in Paris. I smiled at him and nodded. Let’s go, vato.
We hit the road in his little compact car, stopping at an Auchan hypermarket for gas. I was glad to be back in action, being only perhaps 45 minutes to an hour behind schedule. The cab was hot because I couldn’t roll down the passenger side window, he didn’t have a/c and it was probably 95 degrees. I compensated by pushing my seat as far back as it would go and leaning back East Austin-style so I could catch the breeze whooshing through the back passenger side window. We ‘talked’ for probably twenty minutes, using the combination of Hungarian, German and gestures to discuss flooding in the region, the road to Košice, the local airport and other easy topics. He also helped me remember how to count to ten in German, getting so engrossed in it he missed the road we had to turn on and having to backtrack a mile or so. I really, really like that type of cab driver and I was feeling pretty good.
The drive to Košice took around an hour and was fairly uneventful, rolling over hills and past tons of farmland, half of which was planted with sunflowers (which I later found out are used for sunflower seed oil). The one notable sight was the border checkpoint, unused since Slovakia and Hungary both joined the European Union in 2004. It’s not anything like the toll booth you’d expect but instead a big underpass, forcing the car to go underneath a wide one- to two-story building. It didn’t seem like either Hungary or Slovakia wanted to invest in keeping it up and as we passed underneath the decrepit-looking structure I felt a little saddened. Then again, this being Eastern Europe and formerly Communist, it might have always looked that way.
We rolled into Košice and it felt a little like driving through Hearne, Texas, on Highway 6, in that you’re driving through an industrial-type looking area on a four-lane road to get into town. My cab driver didn’t know where my hotel was but I had a map (again, thanks to Google Maps) and was very confident that if he could get me to the train station I could get us to the hotel. As luck would have it, I’d chosen a hotel that had signs pointed us where to go and everything so I directed the cab driver myself to get there. We parked in front of the Hotel-Restaurant Dália, I paid the fifty euro and bid him good day. Here’s the website for the hotel: http://www.hoteldalia.sk/
I chose the Hotel-Restaurant Dália because it was downtown, right by a big park and had air conditioning. Did I mention that Eastern Europe was going through a heat wave about then with daytime temperatures in the mid- to high-90s? That wouldn’t have been so bad except that air conditioning is luxury and not worth the expense for these people since summers usually aren’t that hot for that long. My hotel in Debrecen didn’t have air conditioning but was neat enough that I didn’t mind (I like to stay off the beaten track if I can) and plus I was only there in the late evenings anyway. Of course Eastern Europe also has humidity, though not quite swamp-level (i.e. Houston) but breezes are difficult to come by (unlike in, say, Austin). Even the factory in Debrecen keeps the a/c turned low so that it’s probably 80 degrees in there and certain meeting rooms with sun-facing windows get uncomfortably hot. So anyway, I made sure that the hotel in Košice would have air conditioning.
Anyway, upon arrival I found I had a slight problem. I consider myself a seasoned traveler these days but for the love of God I could not find my way into the hotel. There was an outer wall around part of the hotel with an iron gate big enough for vehicles and a smaller iron gate which was obviously for people but I couldn’t open it. I pushed. Nothing. I pulled. Nothing. I tried turning what looked to be a knob. Nothing. There were people eating in a courtyard just inside and I was concerned about looking like a complete idiot so I backed up and stood unobserved against the wall, contemplating what to do. I took a walk around to the other side but there were no doors there. I walked back around to the personnel gate, which did have a small sign for the hotel above it, stood against the wall again and thought “Here I am in scenic Slovakia trying to get my relaxing weekend moving forward and man it’s friggin’ hot out here but I can’t figure out how to get into my hotel, argh!” No one was going in or out so I couldn’t even sneak in. The one option left was to push a little unobtrusive button with a little camera above it which I presumed to be for security. That had to be it but it still felt silly going and pressing the button.
The receptionist inside must have been watching me through the camera because a split second after I hit the button I heard a low buzz. I looked at the gate and pushed it. Of course, it eased open. Friggin’ Europe. That was one of those situations where yes, you’re smart and everything but when you encounter something that’s commonplace for Europeans but not for you you’re just perplexed as to what to do and feel silly trying things. Other examples include having to put your room entry card into a slot near the door inside your room so that you can turn the lights on, the fact that bottles of water with blue labels are carbonated while ones with pink aren’t and that there are no turnstiles to get on the Budapest subway but also no marked places to buy a ticket. Whatever, I was in.
I was so glad to have reached my destination I didn’t care that the receptionist spoke English extremely well. I tried using a couple of Slovakian words but ended up butchering them so I gave it up. She gave me my room key and I wandered down a hot hallway that had the lights on motion sensors (kind of creepy but definitely energy-saving) to my room. It was compact but did have air conditioning. Hallelujah!
After an hour of unpacking and checking e-mail, I wandered out onto the streets of Košice looking to experience Slovakian culture and, more importantly, find something to eat. It was really, really hot. Usually when I get to wander around foreign locales I’m in reasonably cool weather that doesn’t quite require a jacket. Wandering around when I was certain to break into a sweat was something new. Heck, even when I was in New Orleans it was in March. What the heck do you do when you’re trying to blend in but you’re sweating like a stuck pig? You shrug your shoulders and go about your business. At least, that’s what I did.
I passed by two big pools in the big park by the hotel. Everybody and their grandmother in Košice was either there or walking there as I, sweating like crazy, was walking in the opposite direction. They definitely had the right idea but I hadn’t brought a swimsuit and being by myself in a crowded, social place like that is not a good idea. I picked up my chin and continued striding forward.
I found a little restaurant with an outdoor, shaded patio that had almost no one there and took a table. I tried using my few Slovakian words, provided to me by the one guy at the Debrecen factory who can apparently speak Slovakian, but had such trouble with them and was getting weird glances from the waiter that I switched to using Hungarian. That worked much better and I was able to order, yes, gyros. Thank goodness I like gyros because you can get them everywhere. There were other things on the menu but it wasn’t in English so I had to order something I could understand.
After eating, I stopped in a nearby grocery store and bought a big honkin’ bottle of water. It wouldn’t do to pass out on the streets of Košice from dehydration, after all. I then proceeded to the scenic downtown.
By the way, I mapped the walk here, just because I enjoy that sort of thing but it also gives me the mileage (5.93 miles total):
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF&msa=0&msid=118415557892131827636.0004761ea942254bad9cc
The downtown area is cute but small. It’s anchored by a rather large Cathedral, Anglican I think (I almost never use tourbooks for these occasions so I’m ignorant) and had several smaller churches as well. The big church allows you, by paying about 0.90 Euros, to walk up to the top of one of the towers. For some reason I was trying to communicate with the ticket lady in Slovakian and then in Hungarian, neither of which were working. When we were to the point of exasperation she looked at me and said ‘English?’ Oh yeah, I’d literally forgotten that I spoke English. She then launched into an obviously well-rehearsed spiel about the number of steps, when the tower was built, etc. I thanked her in English and proceeded up the stairs.
I love these old towers. I’ve been in one in Eger, Hungary and another in Munich. They’re thin and narrow, being built for by and for people shorter than we typically are today. They’re dark and crumbling in some places. But they’re not hot tourist attractions so you don’t have to deal with crowds (and in the tight spaces that wouldn’t be good anyway). This particular tower was a tricky enough spiral staircase that I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone over fifty.
The top provided a beautiful 360-degree view of Košice and the surrounding hills as well as, almost as beautifully, the tiled church roof and its other towers. As a bonus, a strong wind made the heat much more bearable. Having the whole place to myself, I was up there for probably fifteen minutes.
The next place to go was an underground area where the old city walls had been dug up. I’ve never understood how things get covered in dirt over time, like, why do we have to excavate old cities, why aren’t they just there? The pyramids in Egypt and the Parthenon never have been covered over, what gives? Anyway, the city walls were kind of neat but it was almost neater to get out of the sun again, eh.
The whole time I was in the downtown area I could hear music. The first thing I heard sounded like the ‘Chariots of Fire’ music. Then I’d hear other songs that were familiar but I couldn’t quite place, all without vocals. After visiting the walls, I finally figured out what it was: a ton of fountain jets that were timed to the music playing. I’m not going to bother explaining it to you. Just watch the video through the magic of the internets:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeIJDyzBOK0
I sat there for maybe 25 minutes, just soaking it in, thinking, “Holy schnikes, I’m halfway around the world sitting in a random city watching a fountain synchronized to a disco song by Donna Summer.” I like those types of feelings. It helped that apparently that day, a Saturday, was wedding picture day in central Košice as I saw three different couples posing for photos, one of them at the fountain.
That reminds me, I am now to the point where I don’t mind hearing American music over in Europe anymore. I used to be annoyed and now I’m just amused, especially when I hear somewhat vulgar American songs being played in grocery stores. Every trip there is a new pop sensation being played all the time. This trip there were two: Lady Gaga and Ke$ha. The three most popular songs by far were, if you’re interested, these:
Lady Gaga – Bad Romance
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbPCtwIQ63I
(having the lyrics helps non-English speakers, eh)
Ke$ha – Tik Tok
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iP6XpLQM2Cs
Lady Gaga – Alejandro
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crYDOdZ2LC4
After the fountain, I meandered northwest through the city, past faceless twenty-story apartment buildings and a rundown streetcar line searching for hills where walking is always more interesting and, the hope was, if I got high enough, cooler temperatures.
I found them alright, but not how I’d hoped. After wandering past a hillside church, a playground and a neighborhood or two, I found myself down a small lane that felt like it was out in the countryside although it was still within view of the city. I was beyond even where the buses went and I was content, trying to make a loop on the side of the hill and come back down into town from a different direction. I was beyond the edges of the map the hotel receptionist had provided to me. At some point, I suspected that I was on a dead end road as there was almost no traffic. To confirm, I asked for help from a guy working in his ‘yard’.
Me: Ne vie Slovensky (I don’t speak Slovakian). Magyarul? (Hungarian?)
Man: (Looking at me confused)
Me: Umm...(points down the road and makes a walking motion with hands)
Man: Košice?
Me: Igen (yes in Hungarian)
Man: Sklkzmy tyzkrwmlk pdzklrhzz (points back the way I came)
Me: Oh. Dakujem ('thank you' in Slovakian but I butchered it)
I have to remark that the guy had a shirt on. When your house has no air conditioning and you want to work outside in Slovakia, you don’t wear a shirt or, if you’re a woman, you walk out in a bathing suit. At least, I think the few bikinis I saw were bathing suits. Anyway, I started walking back the way I came when it unexpectedly started to rain. I mean unexpectedly as the sky was mostly clear and I hadn’t heard any thunder or anything. Next thing I knew I was standing underneath a tree the size of a fig tree that barely overhung the road, waiting for the downpour to stop. I wasn’t too concerned. I would get a bit wet but not too badly and, since the storm had come upon me so suddenly it must be small and moving fast and would soon be over.
Nope. I stood under that tree for maybe fifteen minutes, all the while watching the potholes in the road fill up with water. All the while the rain became heavier and heavier. Not only that but it was thundering like you wouldn’t believe. Remember being taught that you could tell how far away lightning is by counting the seconds from the flash until you heard thunder? Well, I had nothing else to do so I counted from four miles to having it be almost on top of me. And it was loud!!!! The one consolation was that the sky wasn’t pitch black. Still, it made it a little scary but still somewhat comical, particularly since I had an umbrella in my room.
Eventually the lightning moved a little further away which was nice but the rain wasn’t letting up at all. Finally, when the potholes were all full of water, there were no signs of the rain abating and I figured I was about as wet as I could get, I started down the road to try to find some better shelter.
No luck in that either. Not only that but it began to hail. At least it was only small hail, less than golf ball sized but bigger than peas, and only lasted a minute. Still, I could only think “This is perfect.” After walking for ten minutes and becoming thoroughly drenched, I found slight shelter in a carport that stuck out over someone’s gate. I stayed there for ten minutes facing the peoples’ driveway and house allowing only my backside to get wet. Why would I do that? Because I realized I needed to protect my digital camera and cell phone. Before I left my tree shelter, I had put them both in the plastic shopping bag my bottle of water came in and tucked the bag up under my shirt, hoping that would protect them. I’d find out when I got back to the hotel what the damage was. Everything else I could deal with, knowing I’d look foolish getting back to my hotel but washing it all away with a nice hot bath. Also that it would make a good story. But potentially losing a cell phone and digital camera (and the photos I’d already taken) made things a bit more serious. Sigh. The rain kept up and I became tired of my shelter so I walked down the road ¼ of a mile and found a carport with no gate in front of it (though there was a van crammed in it). Still, I could finally wait out the storm as long as the person in the house didn’t come outside and yell at me in Slovakian. I figured if anybody was watching me from inside they could only feel sorry for the poor foreigner who had been caught unprepared in a crazy summer thunderstorm.
Finally, after what must have been at least forty minutes of rain, it started to let up. The main sign of it letting up was the presence of Slovakians with umbrellas wandering the streets. Drenched to the skin, slightly cold and quite sheepish, I emerged from the carport and trudged back to my hotel. No one looked at me strangely on the way back but thankfully I didn’t pass too many people. The storm had been very bad though; one street that I had walked down on the way out of town had a large number of fallen limbs and even whole trees. Yeesh. I arrived back at the hotel, explained to the mildy shocked receptionist that I was an idiot, went to my room and took a nice long bath.
After the bath, I realized that the only clean clothes I had were a pair of dress slacks and dress shirt. Everything else was actually being laundered by Slovakians from the hotel and I wouldn’t get them back until the next day. Tired and not wanting to feel embarassed, I stayed in the hotel room and didn’t go out, having a webcam chat with Jennifer and a dinner of trail mix and granola bars. I could have easily gone to the hotel restaurant but I felt that would still be too much. I was not, however, depressed and still felt that my trip to Košice was a good one, accomplishing my goals of getting out of Hungary and and finding new, non-work-related challenges.
The next morning, wearing my dressy clothes, I checked out of the hotel at 10am (the latest check-out time) and had a nice breakfast from their buffet. I got my clothes back, nicely folded but ever-so-slightly damp as most Europeans don’t seem to use clothes dryers. No matter, after yesterday’s imbroglio they were dry enough for me. I gleefully changed into jeans (I had left all my shorts in the US) and a clean shirt, left my luggage at the front desk and proceeded to walk out the front door with my umbrella. “You know it’s supposed to rain again today” said the receptionist, the same one who had been there yesterday. “I know,” I said as I held up my umbrella. “I’ll either be back very soon or a long time from now.” I stepped outside just as it began to rain. ‘I’m unstoppable; I have an umbrella today,’ I thought to myself. I made it halfway down the street before thinking that, no, it would be stupid to venture out again into the rain, even with an umbrella. I turned around, hit the button to let me in and took a seat under a big awning on the empty restaurant patio. And what I did was sit for 30-45 minutes and just watch the rain. It was quite relaxing really. In fact, I even saw a couple of people running out to their cars in the rain and thought to myself how great it was that I was nice and dry. One of the waiters came outside after fifteen minutes to check on me, perhaps thinking I thought that I could order something. I gave him a smile and a thumbs-up and he walked away.
I wasn’t in a hurry as my train wasn’t supposed to leave until 6. However, I would again only have a nine minute layover and, even though I could catch another train two hours afterward, I didn’t want to mess with it. I would instead take another cab, hopefully for fifty euros or less.
After the rain dissipated, I started walking with the goal of seeing the Hornád River which runs right through the middle of town and was not far away from my hotel. It took me about a half hour to reach it, passing by the bus station first to see if any buses were going to Miskolcs. There were none except for another late evening bus. Yep, it’d be a cab again for me.
The Hornád is not a big river at all and not very scenic either, at least not in Košice. I had to walk on a sidewalk besides a freeway to see it but see it I did. I was debating whether to go to the other side of the river and try to make a big loop going north when it began to drizzle. Taking that as a sign to cut the walk short, I went back to the city center for a little while, checking out the churches and the musical fountain again before going by the Tesco (big supermarket) and asking the cab drivers there how much it would be to go to Miskolcs. They shrugged and said fifty euros. Excellent. I went back to the hotel, had a nice lunch in the restaurant (although I had to wait 30 minutes for Carpathian Rolls even though there was almost no one else there) and asked the receptionist how much a cab to Miskolcs would cost, seeing if she could do better than the Tesco guys. She said 100 euro and looked at me like I was crazy when I told her about the fifty I’d been offered. I walked over to Tesco with my luggage and got in a cab bound for Miskolcs. I didn’t even try to negotiate.
My cab driver was a thin Slovakian guy who smoked but compensated for it by playing Slovakian rock music and having windows that rolled down. His only problem was that he didn’t know where the train station in Miskolcs was. He stopped and asked several people including a group of men at a gas station, patrons of a McDonald’s and even two cops where it was but, due to his inability to communicate (he spoke Slovakian, they spoke Hungarian) he couldn’t get us there. Finally, I had to step in. While he was asking a lady in a yellow car next to us at a traffic light, I took over.
Taxi Driver: #(&%#( (&!@# Slovak?!
Lady: (shrugging her shoulders)
Me: Nem tudok magyarul (I don’t speak Hungarian)! Vasútallomás (train station)?
Lady: (points with her arm indicating we need to take a right, cutting in front of her when the light turns green)
And actually the lady passed us and led us just about to the train station. My poor cab driver. The fifty euros didn’t seem as worth it when it took us an extra thirty minutes to get there. Thankfully, I wasn’t in a hurry because I knew the next train wouldn’t be for an hour and a half anyway. When we pulled up to the train station, who did we see but my cab driver from the day before! I met his eyes and we smiled at each other. After I paid my now quite cranky Slovakian driver, I showed the Miskolcs driver my receipt to show that the price was the same coming back as going. I think he would have liked to have taken me back for my return trip but that would have been much more difficult for me and wouldn’t have saved either time or money. We shook hands and I went into the train station.
My train was on time, I was on the proper platform to catch it and found my seat. I’ve got this train thing down. The only damper on my day was getting completely ripped off by my taxi driver in Debrecen who insisted that the fare was so exorbitantly expensive because it was on a Sunday. “Vasarnap, Vasarnap, Vasarnap!” (Sunday, Sunday, Sunday) he kept repeating. I felt especially grated because we had been having a good Hungarian/gesture conversation. What counts as ripped off? A five dollar fare became a ten dollar fare. Not much you say but I felt very angry about it. I still paid him, vowing to be more vigilant next time I had a cab from a suspect cab company (I could have called for one from the company NI uses but didn’t feel it was necessary and didn’t want to wait).
Anyway, that was my weekend in Košice. Overall the business part of my trip went rather well and I was able to spend several evenings going out to eat with work associates, playing sand volleyball, playing soccer, eating ghoulash with my buddy Misi’s family (all non-English speakers) and taking two US Customs agents out to dinner on two consecutive nights. It was good to be back but as always it stunk to be away from Jennifer and the kid. Anyway, as always, thanks for reading and sharing my travels with me.
I was going to be in Hungary over a weekend, being there for an unusually-long nine business days due to a couple of big projects I was responsible for. My previous two trips to Debrecen, in October and November 2009, were not the most fun of trips and didn’t leave me with happy memories of the place. Therefore, I couldn’t imagine staying there by myself for the weekend; I had to get out. But where to go?
I felt I needed to completely get out of Hungary, try my hand at a new culture and get a new travel challenge. Not that getting around Hungary is easy but I know enough of the language and the culture to not feel worried in most travel-related situations. Time to shake things up and get out of the country.
If you look at a map of Eastern Europe, you’ll see that Eastern Hungary is quite close to Romania, Ukraine and Slovakia. Here’s a map for ya:
http://www.neiu.edu/~ajmichae/387/hyperlinks/hyperlink%20map/slovakia.gif
A work colleague recommended I visit Transylvania which would have been great except that a) it would have required 8-9 hours on a train to get there and b) would not have felt right being there without Jennifer. To use a baseball metaphor, I didn’t need to hit a home run, just get on base. There are no trains to the Ukraine and some co-workers told me that Romania is a total culture shock from Hungary so that left Slovakia. Hey, it’s part of the European Union so it shouldn’t be a big change. Besides, part of it used to be part of Hungary though apparently a lot of Hungarians still resent that they lost it after World War I (as well as parts of Romania, Serbia, Croatia and the Ukraine). I settled on the town of Košice (koh-sheetz-ay) since I could get there by train in about three hours. Perfect.
If you’re curious, here’s the website I used for the train schedules:
http://elvira.mav-start.hu/elvira.dll/xslms/uf
Košice is a town of over 200,000 people but has a touristy center and is nestled in a valley between hills of a height I wasn’t sure of but anything is better than the flat plain where Debrecen lies.
The train ride would be around three hours total and would require switching trains in Miskolcs (pronounced Meesh-koltz), Hungary. I could leave at 8am and be in Košice by 11, just in time for a nice little lunch and a solid afternoon of wandering around. That way I didn’t have to hurry to leave work on Friday and could spend a leisurely Friday evening playing soccer with my buddy Misi and the Under-20 soccer team he coaches.
The next morning at 7:15 I caught a cab down to the train station and waited patiently for my train. I know the drill now for making sure I’m on the right one (no more late night excursions to Monor and Szolnok for me!) and had no problem finding my proper seat. I would only have nine minutes to get to the proper platform in Miskolcs to catch the train to Košice but I’d been assured the trains run on time so there wouldn’t be a problem. Too bad nobody told the people running my train as we rolled into Miskolcs 25 minutes late...
I walked through the Miskolcs station looking for my train in case it was late but nope, it had already departed. Wonderful. I wondered why the ticket people in Debrecen had sold me a voucher for a train ticket to Košice at any time rather than a ticket for that specific train (not that was the exact reason but you never know). I went to the ticket counter and confirmed what I already knew: the next train to Košice wouldn’t leave until 7pm or so that night. Great.
Košice is only an hour or so away from Miskolcs; maybe I could catch a bus, I thought. I went outside to get a cab to the bus station, thinking that would be my ticket. There were several cabs outside and the driver of the nearest, a mustachioed gent in his 50s, started to take my bags when I explained to him in my wonderful combination of Hungarian and body gestures that I had missed my train and was going to the bus station to get to Košice. When he heard I was going to Košice (Kassa in Hungarian, which many still use) his ears perked up. He said he could take me there for sixty euros, about $80. I explained that no, I wanted to take the bus. He pointed at his watch and shook his head, indicating the next bus wouldn’t leave until quite late. Normally I’m very suspicious of cab drivers and I didn’t completely trust this guy but I just motioned to him that I needed to go sit on a nearby bench and think.
So I thought. NI could cover the fifty euros no problem but I hate to possibly waste money. I thought about it. Even if I were to catch a bus that left at say, noon, I would lose a couple of precious hours in Košice. And it’s more likely there wouldn’t be a bus leaving soon anyway. Hmm...
As I was pondering my circumstances (I won’t say predicament because, well, I was getting to spend a weekend somewhere in Europe, even if it was Miskolcs), the same cab driver approached me again (there weren’t very many people needing cabs that day). This time he didn’t say anything but instead just held out his cell phone. On the viewscreen all I saw was ‘50’. Fifty euros, 65 dollars. That was a bit better. I pointed at my head and then my wrist indicating I still needed time to think though I had already made my decision; screw it, I was taking the cab. I’d get there much faster, the company could cover it and if he was talkative I might learn a few things. Even if the cost would be a bit prohibitive I was staying in a hotel that cost half the price of the standard NI hotel; the company could throw me a bone. I sat for another minute just because and then wandered over to him with a smile on my face, indicating to him that I would be utilizing his services to get me to my destination. 45 I told him, typing it into his cell phone. He looked at me and shook his head. 50. I had already gotten him down by ten and who am I to try to nickel and dime the guy, especially since that kind of money would only get you ten miles in Paris. I smiled at him and nodded. Let’s go, vato.
We hit the road in his little compact car, stopping at an Auchan hypermarket for gas. I was glad to be back in action, being only perhaps 45 minutes to an hour behind schedule. The cab was hot because I couldn’t roll down the passenger side window, he didn’t have a/c and it was probably 95 degrees. I compensated by pushing my seat as far back as it would go and leaning back East Austin-style so I could catch the breeze whooshing through the back passenger side window. We ‘talked’ for probably twenty minutes, using the combination of Hungarian, German and gestures to discuss flooding in the region, the road to Košice, the local airport and other easy topics. He also helped me remember how to count to ten in German, getting so engrossed in it he missed the road we had to turn on and having to backtrack a mile or so. I really, really like that type of cab driver and I was feeling pretty good.
The drive to Košice took around an hour and was fairly uneventful, rolling over hills and past tons of farmland, half of which was planted with sunflowers (which I later found out are used for sunflower seed oil). The one notable sight was the border checkpoint, unused since Slovakia and Hungary both joined the European Union in 2004. It’s not anything like the toll booth you’d expect but instead a big underpass, forcing the car to go underneath a wide one- to two-story building. It didn’t seem like either Hungary or Slovakia wanted to invest in keeping it up and as we passed underneath the decrepit-looking structure I felt a little saddened. Then again, this being Eastern Europe and formerly Communist, it might have always looked that way.
We rolled into Košice and it felt a little like driving through Hearne, Texas, on Highway 6, in that you’re driving through an industrial-type looking area on a four-lane road to get into town. My cab driver didn’t know where my hotel was but I had a map (again, thanks to Google Maps) and was very confident that if he could get me to the train station I could get us to the hotel. As luck would have it, I’d chosen a hotel that had signs pointed us where to go and everything so I directed the cab driver myself to get there. We parked in front of the Hotel-Restaurant Dália, I paid the fifty euro and bid him good day. Here’s the website for the hotel: http://www.hoteldalia.sk/
I chose the Hotel-Restaurant Dália because it was downtown, right by a big park and had air conditioning. Did I mention that Eastern Europe was going through a heat wave about then with daytime temperatures in the mid- to high-90s? That wouldn’t have been so bad except that air conditioning is luxury and not worth the expense for these people since summers usually aren’t that hot for that long. My hotel in Debrecen didn’t have air conditioning but was neat enough that I didn’t mind (I like to stay off the beaten track if I can) and plus I was only there in the late evenings anyway. Of course Eastern Europe also has humidity, though not quite swamp-level (i.e. Houston) but breezes are difficult to come by (unlike in, say, Austin). Even the factory in Debrecen keeps the a/c turned low so that it’s probably 80 degrees in there and certain meeting rooms with sun-facing windows get uncomfortably hot. So anyway, I made sure that the hotel in Košice would have air conditioning.
Anyway, upon arrival I found I had a slight problem. I consider myself a seasoned traveler these days but for the love of God I could not find my way into the hotel. There was an outer wall around part of the hotel with an iron gate big enough for vehicles and a smaller iron gate which was obviously for people but I couldn’t open it. I pushed. Nothing. I pulled. Nothing. I tried turning what looked to be a knob. Nothing. There were people eating in a courtyard just inside and I was concerned about looking like a complete idiot so I backed up and stood unobserved against the wall, contemplating what to do. I took a walk around to the other side but there were no doors there. I walked back around to the personnel gate, which did have a small sign for the hotel above it, stood against the wall again and thought “Here I am in scenic Slovakia trying to get my relaxing weekend moving forward and man it’s friggin’ hot out here but I can’t figure out how to get into my hotel, argh!” No one was going in or out so I couldn’t even sneak in. The one option left was to push a little unobtrusive button with a little camera above it which I presumed to be for security. That had to be it but it still felt silly going and pressing the button.
The receptionist inside must have been watching me through the camera because a split second after I hit the button I heard a low buzz. I looked at the gate and pushed it. Of course, it eased open. Friggin’ Europe. That was one of those situations where yes, you’re smart and everything but when you encounter something that’s commonplace for Europeans but not for you you’re just perplexed as to what to do and feel silly trying things. Other examples include having to put your room entry card into a slot near the door inside your room so that you can turn the lights on, the fact that bottles of water with blue labels are carbonated while ones with pink aren’t and that there are no turnstiles to get on the Budapest subway but also no marked places to buy a ticket. Whatever, I was in.
I was so glad to have reached my destination I didn’t care that the receptionist spoke English extremely well. I tried using a couple of Slovakian words but ended up butchering them so I gave it up. She gave me my room key and I wandered down a hot hallway that had the lights on motion sensors (kind of creepy but definitely energy-saving) to my room. It was compact but did have air conditioning. Hallelujah!
After an hour of unpacking and checking e-mail, I wandered out onto the streets of Košice looking to experience Slovakian culture and, more importantly, find something to eat. It was really, really hot. Usually when I get to wander around foreign locales I’m in reasonably cool weather that doesn’t quite require a jacket. Wandering around when I was certain to break into a sweat was something new. Heck, even when I was in New Orleans it was in March. What the heck do you do when you’re trying to blend in but you’re sweating like a stuck pig? You shrug your shoulders and go about your business. At least, that’s what I did.
I passed by two big pools in the big park by the hotel. Everybody and their grandmother in Košice was either there or walking there as I, sweating like crazy, was walking in the opposite direction. They definitely had the right idea but I hadn’t brought a swimsuit and being by myself in a crowded, social place like that is not a good idea. I picked up my chin and continued striding forward.
I found a little restaurant with an outdoor, shaded patio that had almost no one there and took a table. I tried using my few Slovakian words, provided to me by the one guy at the Debrecen factory who can apparently speak Slovakian, but had such trouble with them and was getting weird glances from the waiter that I switched to using Hungarian. That worked much better and I was able to order, yes, gyros. Thank goodness I like gyros because you can get them everywhere. There were other things on the menu but it wasn’t in English so I had to order something I could understand.
After eating, I stopped in a nearby grocery store and bought a big honkin’ bottle of water. It wouldn’t do to pass out on the streets of Košice from dehydration, after all. I then proceeded to the scenic downtown.
By the way, I mapped the walk here, just because I enjoy that sort of thing but it also gives me the mileage (5.93 miles total):
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF&msa=0&msid=118415557892131827636.0004761ea942254bad9cc
The downtown area is cute but small. It’s anchored by a rather large Cathedral, Anglican I think (I almost never use tourbooks for these occasions so I’m ignorant) and had several smaller churches as well. The big church allows you, by paying about 0.90 Euros, to walk up to the top of one of the towers. For some reason I was trying to communicate with the ticket lady in Slovakian and then in Hungarian, neither of which were working. When we were to the point of exasperation she looked at me and said ‘English?’ Oh yeah, I’d literally forgotten that I spoke English. She then launched into an obviously well-rehearsed spiel about the number of steps, when the tower was built, etc. I thanked her in English and proceeded up the stairs.
I love these old towers. I’ve been in one in Eger, Hungary and another in Munich. They’re thin and narrow, being built for by and for people shorter than we typically are today. They’re dark and crumbling in some places. But they’re not hot tourist attractions so you don’t have to deal with crowds (and in the tight spaces that wouldn’t be good anyway). This particular tower was a tricky enough spiral staircase that I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone over fifty.
The top provided a beautiful 360-degree view of Košice and the surrounding hills as well as, almost as beautifully, the tiled church roof and its other towers. As a bonus, a strong wind made the heat much more bearable. Having the whole place to myself, I was up there for probably fifteen minutes.
The next place to go was an underground area where the old city walls had been dug up. I’ve never understood how things get covered in dirt over time, like, why do we have to excavate old cities, why aren’t they just there? The pyramids in Egypt and the Parthenon never have been covered over, what gives? Anyway, the city walls were kind of neat but it was almost neater to get out of the sun again, eh.
The whole time I was in the downtown area I could hear music. The first thing I heard sounded like the ‘Chariots of Fire’ music. Then I’d hear other songs that were familiar but I couldn’t quite place, all without vocals. After visiting the walls, I finally figured out what it was: a ton of fountain jets that were timed to the music playing. I’m not going to bother explaining it to you. Just watch the video through the magic of the internets:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeIJDyzBOK0
I sat there for maybe 25 minutes, just soaking it in, thinking, “Holy schnikes, I’m halfway around the world sitting in a random city watching a fountain synchronized to a disco song by Donna Summer.” I like those types of feelings. It helped that apparently that day, a Saturday, was wedding picture day in central Košice as I saw three different couples posing for photos, one of them at the fountain.
That reminds me, I am now to the point where I don’t mind hearing American music over in Europe anymore. I used to be annoyed and now I’m just amused, especially when I hear somewhat vulgar American songs being played in grocery stores. Every trip there is a new pop sensation being played all the time. This trip there were two: Lady Gaga and Ke$ha. The three most popular songs by far were, if you’re interested, these:
Lady Gaga – Bad Romance
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbPCtwIQ63I
(having the lyrics helps non-English speakers, eh)
Ke$ha – Tik Tok
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iP6XpLQM2Cs
Lady Gaga – Alejandro
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crYDOdZ2LC4
After the fountain, I meandered northwest through the city, past faceless twenty-story apartment buildings and a rundown streetcar line searching for hills where walking is always more interesting and, the hope was, if I got high enough, cooler temperatures.
I found them alright, but not how I’d hoped. After wandering past a hillside church, a playground and a neighborhood or two, I found myself down a small lane that felt like it was out in the countryside although it was still within view of the city. I was beyond even where the buses went and I was content, trying to make a loop on the side of the hill and come back down into town from a different direction. I was beyond the edges of the map the hotel receptionist had provided to me. At some point, I suspected that I was on a dead end road as there was almost no traffic. To confirm, I asked for help from a guy working in his ‘yard’.
Me: Ne vie Slovensky (I don’t speak Slovakian). Magyarul? (Hungarian?)
Man: (Looking at me confused)
Me: Umm...(points down the road and makes a walking motion with hands)
Man: Košice?
Me: Igen (yes in Hungarian)
Man: Sklkzmy tyzkrwmlk pdzklrhzz (points back the way I came)
Me: Oh. Dakujem ('thank you' in Slovakian but I butchered it)
I have to remark that the guy had a shirt on. When your house has no air conditioning and you want to work outside in Slovakia, you don’t wear a shirt or, if you’re a woman, you walk out in a bathing suit. At least, I think the few bikinis I saw were bathing suits. Anyway, I started walking back the way I came when it unexpectedly started to rain. I mean unexpectedly as the sky was mostly clear and I hadn’t heard any thunder or anything. Next thing I knew I was standing underneath a tree the size of a fig tree that barely overhung the road, waiting for the downpour to stop. I wasn’t too concerned. I would get a bit wet but not too badly and, since the storm had come upon me so suddenly it must be small and moving fast and would soon be over.
Nope. I stood under that tree for maybe fifteen minutes, all the while watching the potholes in the road fill up with water. All the while the rain became heavier and heavier. Not only that but it was thundering like you wouldn’t believe. Remember being taught that you could tell how far away lightning is by counting the seconds from the flash until you heard thunder? Well, I had nothing else to do so I counted from four miles to having it be almost on top of me. And it was loud!!!! The one consolation was that the sky wasn’t pitch black. Still, it made it a little scary but still somewhat comical, particularly since I had an umbrella in my room.
Eventually the lightning moved a little further away which was nice but the rain wasn’t letting up at all. Finally, when the potholes were all full of water, there were no signs of the rain abating and I figured I was about as wet as I could get, I started down the road to try to find some better shelter.
No luck in that either. Not only that but it began to hail. At least it was only small hail, less than golf ball sized but bigger than peas, and only lasted a minute. Still, I could only think “This is perfect.” After walking for ten minutes and becoming thoroughly drenched, I found slight shelter in a carport that stuck out over someone’s gate. I stayed there for ten minutes facing the peoples’ driveway and house allowing only my backside to get wet. Why would I do that? Because I realized I needed to protect my digital camera and cell phone. Before I left my tree shelter, I had put them both in the plastic shopping bag my bottle of water came in and tucked the bag up under my shirt, hoping that would protect them. I’d find out when I got back to the hotel what the damage was. Everything else I could deal with, knowing I’d look foolish getting back to my hotel but washing it all away with a nice hot bath. Also that it would make a good story. But potentially losing a cell phone and digital camera (and the photos I’d already taken) made things a bit more serious. Sigh. The rain kept up and I became tired of my shelter so I walked down the road ¼ of a mile and found a carport with no gate in front of it (though there was a van crammed in it). Still, I could finally wait out the storm as long as the person in the house didn’t come outside and yell at me in Slovakian. I figured if anybody was watching me from inside they could only feel sorry for the poor foreigner who had been caught unprepared in a crazy summer thunderstorm.
Finally, after what must have been at least forty minutes of rain, it started to let up. The main sign of it letting up was the presence of Slovakians with umbrellas wandering the streets. Drenched to the skin, slightly cold and quite sheepish, I emerged from the carport and trudged back to my hotel. No one looked at me strangely on the way back but thankfully I didn’t pass too many people. The storm had been very bad though; one street that I had walked down on the way out of town had a large number of fallen limbs and even whole trees. Yeesh. I arrived back at the hotel, explained to the mildy shocked receptionist that I was an idiot, went to my room and took a nice long bath.
After the bath, I realized that the only clean clothes I had were a pair of dress slacks and dress shirt. Everything else was actually being laundered by Slovakians from the hotel and I wouldn’t get them back until the next day. Tired and not wanting to feel embarassed, I stayed in the hotel room and didn’t go out, having a webcam chat with Jennifer and a dinner of trail mix and granola bars. I could have easily gone to the hotel restaurant but I felt that would still be too much. I was not, however, depressed and still felt that my trip to Košice was a good one, accomplishing my goals of getting out of Hungary and and finding new, non-work-related challenges.
The next morning, wearing my dressy clothes, I checked out of the hotel at 10am (the latest check-out time) and had a nice breakfast from their buffet. I got my clothes back, nicely folded but ever-so-slightly damp as most Europeans don’t seem to use clothes dryers. No matter, after yesterday’s imbroglio they were dry enough for me. I gleefully changed into jeans (I had left all my shorts in the US) and a clean shirt, left my luggage at the front desk and proceeded to walk out the front door with my umbrella. “You know it’s supposed to rain again today” said the receptionist, the same one who had been there yesterday. “I know,” I said as I held up my umbrella. “I’ll either be back very soon or a long time from now.” I stepped outside just as it began to rain. ‘I’m unstoppable; I have an umbrella today,’ I thought to myself. I made it halfway down the street before thinking that, no, it would be stupid to venture out again into the rain, even with an umbrella. I turned around, hit the button to let me in and took a seat under a big awning on the empty restaurant patio. And what I did was sit for 30-45 minutes and just watch the rain. It was quite relaxing really. In fact, I even saw a couple of people running out to their cars in the rain and thought to myself how great it was that I was nice and dry. One of the waiters came outside after fifteen minutes to check on me, perhaps thinking I thought that I could order something. I gave him a smile and a thumbs-up and he walked away.
I wasn’t in a hurry as my train wasn’t supposed to leave until 6. However, I would again only have a nine minute layover and, even though I could catch another train two hours afterward, I didn’t want to mess with it. I would instead take another cab, hopefully for fifty euros or less.
After the rain dissipated, I started walking with the goal of seeing the Hornád River which runs right through the middle of town and was not far away from my hotel. It took me about a half hour to reach it, passing by the bus station first to see if any buses were going to Miskolcs. There were none except for another late evening bus. Yep, it’d be a cab again for me.
The Hornád is not a big river at all and not very scenic either, at least not in Košice. I had to walk on a sidewalk besides a freeway to see it but see it I did. I was debating whether to go to the other side of the river and try to make a big loop going north when it began to drizzle. Taking that as a sign to cut the walk short, I went back to the city center for a little while, checking out the churches and the musical fountain again before going by the Tesco (big supermarket) and asking the cab drivers there how much it would be to go to Miskolcs. They shrugged and said fifty euros. Excellent. I went back to the hotel, had a nice lunch in the restaurant (although I had to wait 30 minutes for Carpathian Rolls even though there was almost no one else there) and asked the receptionist how much a cab to Miskolcs would cost, seeing if she could do better than the Tesco guys. She said 100 euro and looked at me like I was crazy when I told her about the fifty I’d been offered. I walked over to Tesco with my luggage and got in a cab bound for Miskolcs. I didn’t even try to negotiate.
My cab driver was a thin Slovakian guy who smoked but compensated for it by playing Slovakian rock music and having windows that rolled down. His only problem was that he didn’t know where the train station in Miskolcs was. He stopped and asked several people including a group of men at a gas station, patrons of a McDonald’s and even two cops where it was but, due to his inability to communicate (he spoke Slovakian, they spoke Hungarian) he couldn’t get us there. Finally, I had to step in. While he was asking a lady in a yellow car next to us at a traffic light, I took over.
Taxi Driver: #(&%#( (&!@# Slovak?!
Lady: (shrugging her shoulders)
Me: Nem tudok magyarul (I don’t speak Hungarian)! Vasútallomás (train station)?
Lady: (points with her arm indicating we need to take a right, cutting in front of her when the light turns green)
And actually the lady passed us and led us just about to the train station. My poor cab driver. The fifty euros didn’t seem as worth it when it took us an extra thirty minutes to get there. Thankfully, I wasn’t in a hurry because I knew the next train wouldn’t be for an hour and a half anyway. When we pulled up to the train station, who did we see but my cab driver from the day before! I met his eyes and we smiled at each other. After I paid my now quite cranky Slovakian driver, I showed the Miskolcs driver my receipt to show that the price was the same coming back as going. I think he would have liked to have taken me back for my return trip but that would have been much more difficult for me and wouldn’t have saved either time or money. We shook hands and I went into the train station.
My train was on time, I was on the proper platform to catch it and found my seat. I’ve got this train thing down. The only damper on my day was getting completely ripped off by my taxi driver in Debrecen who insisted that the fare was so exorbitantly expensive because it was on a Sunday. “Vasarnap, Vasarnap, Vasarnap!” (Sunday, Sunday, Sunday) he kept repeating. I felt especially grated because we had been having a good Hungarian/gesture conversation. What counts as ripped off? A five dollar fare became a ten dollar fare. Not much you say but I felt very angry about it. I still paid him, vowing to be more vigilant next time I had a cab from a suspect cab company (I could have called for one from the company NI uses but didn’t feel it was necessary and didn’t want to wait).
Anyway, that was my weekend in Košice. Overall the business part of my trip went rather well and I was able to spend several evenings going out to eat with work associates, playing sand volleyball, playing soccer, eating ghoulash with my buddy Misi’s family (all non-English speakers) and taking two US Customs agents out to dinner on two consecutive nights. It was good to be back but as always it stunk to be away from Jennifer and the kid. Anyway, as always, thanks for reading and sharing my travels with me.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Nineteen Hours of Travel - Dallas to Debrecen
It's a beautiful morning in Dallas, Texas! I’m sitting at Gate E13 in Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport waiting for my flight to (cue Pace Picante Sauce guy) New York City!! Well, I’m actually stopping over just long enough to catch most of the World Cup final and a few hours of relaxation before heading on to, you guessed it, Hungary! It’s been eight months since I’ve flown internationally and, although it stinks to be away from the wife and kid for two weeks, it’s part of my job and I’m glad I’m capable of handling it.
Since I’ve been to Hungary a bunch of times before, this being either my seventh or eighth time, I’m going to do something a little different for this travel blog: I’m going to instead give you a play-by-play of my travel from door to door. I don’t have any Ambien to help me fall asleep so the writing may become less coherent as the blog progresses but we’ll see how I do!
6:30 Woke up after a night of slightly wakeful sleep. We brought the kid up to Dallas yesterday so Jennifer and he could stay with my wonderful in-laws for a couple of weeks. I’m considering it a loan, eh! Anyway, Jennifer got up for every disturbance during the night as he was adjusting to a new crib, new house and new latitude and thankfully let me sleep. Thanks Jennifer, you’re the best!
7:25 Am hurriedly finishing up a breakfast of a banana (gotta get in my fruits and vegetables when I can while traveling) and a ground sausage and cheese kolache from West, Texas.
7:50 My taxi service (my mother-in-law, wife and kid) departs from the house for the 25 minute drive across town to DFW. I could’ve used Super Shuttle but they wanted to do it and hey, who was I to argue. Besides, I’ll expense the mileage which will come out to probably what Super Shuttle would’ve charged anyway and this way I don’t have to wait around for the van, don’t have to sit and drive all over town to pick up other people, can leave the house as late as possible and still be at the airport with an hour-and-a-half to spare.
8:20 Very little traffic on a Sunday morning and we’re here. I spent the trip in the backseat with the kid keeping the morning sun out of his eyes. We gave up and popped a pacifier in his mouth since he was getting cranky but pacifiers during the day are now a weekly occurrence at most. We’re still working on the at night part since we’re trying to get him to go to sleep on his own with mixed results so far. Also, did you know that DFW charges you $2 just to enter the airport area, regardless of whether you’re parking, picking somebody up or dropping somebody off? Has the Wright Amendment been repealed yet?
8:25 Say goodbye to my chauffeurs. One thing I’ve learned after traveling so much is how to say a proper goodbye to Jennifer, meaning that I don’t watch her drive away thinking ‘aw man, I should’ve said ‘I love you’ one more time’. We’ve got it down. And actually this is the third time I’ve said goodbye to the kid though the first two were domestic trips that lasted no more than four days (i.e. within easy cell phone contact). This is different. I’m going to miss them all and I’ll now be the person who can point out how he’s changed since I’ve last seen him.
8:30 Attempt to check in with Delta who decide to have only two attendants working the baggage check-in as well as anybody that can’t use the self-service machines to print their tickets. I have no problem with the machine but have to wait around 7-10 minutes for an attendant to be freed up to take my suitcase. Despite the fact that it must weigh about 300 lbs, she doesn’t say anything about it being over the 50 lb limit. Contents include seven days worth of clothes, three pairs of shoes (dress shoes, walking shoes for Romania and basketball shoes so I don’t roll my ankle dunking on the Hungarians), two packages of Starbucks coffee (a gift), ten packs of bubble gum (more gifts), two books and other odds and ends. Actually, it’s probably standard weight for a large rolling suitcase. Thankfully I’m not taking a suit jacket this time so I don’t have to take the big foldover garment bag instead.
8:35 This is a first; there is no wait at the security checkpoint. I have to assume there aren’t many flights on Sunday morning. Thank you TSA! They don’t say anything about taking off my shoes but I do anyway just in case. I also take off my belt, remove my wallet and cell phone from my pockets and my laptop from my backpack. I slide everything through with no issues. The TSA people were even friendly. I guess not having a line of 100 people waiting to go through really helps.
8:40 After a brief walk I’m at my gate, yay! We’re flying a plane with two seats on either side so it will take four hours to get to NYC JFK. But it also means fewer people in the waiting area though the really important thing is how much room there is for those people. So far, it looks like there’s enough room though I think the flight is sold out. We’ll see. I somehow, despite booking a summer flight only a month early, got seats right where I like them: by the window either just in front or just behind the wing. I don’t care about legroom; this may sound silly but having the extra legroom on the exit row means nothing to me since I can stick my legs under the seat in front of me pretty well. Better leave those seats to the tall people. I just want to look out the window as those of you who know me are aware. Every flight is different when you can look out the window though it also helps if you can talk to the person next to you. Oh, another plus for this gate: power outlets! Well, at least four. That’s how I’m able to type this now instead of write it.
You’ll see from this photo I’m wearing my traveling gear. The shoes are easy to slip on and off for security checks and attempts to sleep on the flight, the pants are jeans meaning they’re comfortable and allow me to pack lighter khakis in my luggage, the shirt is nice and comfortable and, most importantly, does not indicate what nationality I am (no English words) and my haircut is not uncommon among men in Eastern Europe. If I were a woman of course I’d consider dyeing my hair bright red, eh!
9:50 We should have boarded by now. It appears I may miss a part of the World Cup final especially considering we’re flying into the New York City metro area which, since it has three airports (JFK, LaGuardia and Newark) is famous for congestion. Oh well. I’m amusing myself by reading Fairest by Gail Carson Levine, the lady who wrote the best novel I’ve ever read featuring a girl as the main character, Ella Enchanted. Fairest is also this trip’s ‘kid’s-type book that I’m reading because, well, Jennifer likes it and reading it makes me feel like a better husband’. Fairest seems to be a pretty good yarn but I’m betting I’ll finish it in a couple of hours. Since it’s in hard cover and being a kid’s book the pages don’t have the usual ton of text on them, this book is definitely taking up more space than it should in my luggage. See, I try to get thick paperbacks because they have the most words per page and thus the most words per square inch, maximizing reading time while minimizing space taken up in my luggage. This trip’s other books, of which there are four since I’ll be gone for two weeks and am always paranoid I’ll run out of reading material are: McTeague, by Frank Norris (the token classic that I will read last if at all), People Like Us by Dominick Dunne (a fictionalized account of New York high society in the 1980s) and Black Fox by (I’m too lazy to go over to my suitcase and look it up), a Western that apparently was also a miniseries in the 1970s or 80s. I would have better books but the Austin Public Library system has a paltry selection of paperback fiction in any of its libraries, or at least the two nearest our house.
10:10 Yay, we’re boarding. Let’s get this show on the road! I hang back as usual waiting to be among the last to load up. What’s the hurry of getting on the plane if you’re going to be sitting there for three hours anyway? Oh yeah, to have a space for your carry-on luggage since the airlines now charge extra for them. Luckily for me I just have my backpack which fits under the seat, well, most of it anyway.
10:20 My seatmate is a young guy speaking what sounds like Arabic into his cell phone. I presume from that and his manner that he doesn’t speak English and don’t attempt to make conversation.
10:30 Beautiful day for a take-off from DFW. Nary a cloud in the sky. Too bad I can’t see it though as my seat, though advertised as a window, does not actually have a window. I can barely see out of the window of the lady in front of me but five seconds after we take off she shuts it. Zounds!
10:50 Have discovered that not being able to look out the window allows me to more easily concentrate on reading Fairest. Our heroine has just met the prince!!
1:00 Eastern Time. Pretty uneventful flight. I think I might finish this book. World Cup final starts in a half hour though and I think with taxiing and deplaning I’m going to miss at least the first thirty minutes.
1:40 Uh oh. We’re close to NYC but now we’re circling over Long Island Sound. After one full revolution over open ocean, the pilot helpfully explains that with some cumulus clouds over NYC and a lot of congestion (he forgot to mention that we also left late) we’re going to be in a holding pattern for 15-20 minutes. Great. Even better, he states that ‘we have plenty of gas’. Thanks for the words of assurance buddy, I don’t usually worry about that but now I’ll be thinking about it as we keep turning.
1:55 Fifteen minutes and 720 degrees later, we’re descending. Turns out we were over the Jersey Shore instead of Long Island which I didn’t fully grasp until I saw Manhattan out the window. NYC is huge!!!! Oh, how did I see Manhattan? The elderly lady in front of me pulled her window shade up once we started circling. Thanks elderly lady! I was going to thank you but decided against it.
2:05 We’ve landed, let’s get to that gate!
2:10 No gate for us. We’re deplaning on the tarmac but instead of a bus to take us to the terminal, we’re walking through this weird metal/plasticky tunnel. They must have a/c or a powerful fan in it because it’s not an oven. Still kind of reminds me of the tunnels at Elliot’s house in ET though.
2:15 Hallelujah! Just walked into a very crowded terminal to see a bar just past our gate with a bunch of TVs. 42 minutes gone and the score is still 0-0! Yes! That’s one great thing about soccer: you can miss half the game and there’s a good chance you haven’t missed much of anything.
2:20 Jennifer calls to check that I made it ok. One more minute to go in the half Jennifer...I’ll call you back!
2:22 Chat with Jennifer for about five minutes in a quiet part of the terminal.
2:28 Chat with Font about how the first half went. The Dutch are playing ugly ball. I was going to root for them since they hadn’t won a major championship lately but I think I’ll just root for the game not to go to penalty kicks.
2:40 Standing out beyond the bar watching the second half. I just realized that I’m in probably the most multicultural place in America right now watching the most popular sporting event in the world. You want to know how multicultural JFK airport is? While deplaning I saw an Uzbekistan airlines plane take off. Who knew Uzbekistan had gasoline, much less an airline?
3:20 This game is definitely going to penalties.
3:30 I take a seat in the table area of the bar but can’t get anybody to come and take my order. Really New York people, I want to spend my money at your establishment! However, if you don’t want my money I’m not going to give it to you.
4:10 or so Mercifully, Holland got a man red-carded and Holland, down to ten men, concedes the winning goal by Spain with maybe four minutes left. No penalty kicks and the best team definitely won.
4:15 Set off to find my gate. It’s in the same terminal but I’m going to have to hoof it. Good thing it doesn’t take off until 7:45.
4:25 Stop at Dunkin’ Donuts and get my dinner/late lunch, two flat bread sandwiches that are nothing special but are hot. I’ve decided that when eating at an airport, hot food beats cold food (i.e. cold sandwiches) every single time, hands down. Hot food is comfort food when you’re on the road. Much better than my cold snack food that I carry around with me.
4:35 It takes ten minutes to buy a bottle of soda at Chili’s. More stellar NYC service. I miss Texas hospitality.
4:45 Wolf down my dinner and call Jennifer. We talk for fifty minutes, about 25 minutes longer than really necessary but I just want to talk to her to pass the time. It’s much more pleasant than reading my book or listening to the iPod and people-watching.
5:50 Start reading People Like Us as I finished Fairest right as the plane started to descend into JFK. Never figured I’d be interested in a book about people talking about people but it’s pretty good so far. I’d go faster if I didn’t stop every minute or so to people watch.
6:45 It’s past time to board but finally the plane we’ll be using has arrived. To my slight dismay, it’s a Delta plane. I figured it would be but I was hoping for a random Malev Hungarian or Air France crew since it’s more interesting to fly with non-US carriers.
7:30 We’re boarding. Two girls have fallen asleep nearby so I gave on of them a slight kick as the last of us were boarding. Turns out they weren’t going to Budapest even though they’d been around the gate as long as I had. The girl I kicked thanked me though and I felt better not having it on my conscience that a couple of people slept and missed their international flight. I wonder if the Delta people would have gone and woken them up?
7:35 Whoa. My seatmate is the first ever to actually initiate a conversation with me. It was actually before I even sat down. He is a mid-30s white guy whose manner and look screams frat guy. He remarks that we’re really in for it as we have two aged-ten boys behind us and a dog in a carrier to our left (we’re at the window). I don’t agree with him as who knows how the boys will behave and I love having a dog around. It’s in a mesh carrier and appears to be a rat terrier though I later found out it’s a basenji. The poor dog is just chilling on the floor in front of a little girl. It’s so cute though. Usually you figure a dog on a plane is going to be some rich old lady’s poodle named Muffin or something. Anyway, I ask frat guy about his travels and he informs me he’s on the US archery team and traveling to a world championship in Budapest. Wow. That’s random. He’s doing this professionally and apparently travels about 35 weeks a year. The longest distance he shoots from is 98.5m which is about the length of a football field and he is expected to hit the center circle every time. Wow. Good luck buddy. Interestingly enough, while he’s willing to answer my questions, he doesn’t ask a single thing about me. Slight non-plussed, I end the conversation before we take off. Too bad. At least ask me where I'm going archery guy!!!
8:00 Alright, we’re in the air. I have an actual window this time so I’m happy as a clam. The takeoff is fairly smooth and we have a nice view of the clouds and NYC for a little bit. It’s always weird taking off at sunset flying east because you’re high enough to look back and see daylight but ahead only see darkness. It’s kind of eerie actually.
8:15 It’s getting too dark to look out the window so I’ll read instead. The plan is to read until I’m tired, then watch a movie. This plane doesn’t have TVs in the seats so we will watch whatever’s on the main monitors. Tonight’s movies are The Ghost Writer, Invictus and Harry Potterand the Half-Blood Prince. I’m not interested in the first two but the third should keep my interest. I didn’t pack any Ambien for this trip since I thought the flights would be too short. At seven hours and 45 minutes, this one would have been cutting it close but since I only sleep six hours anyway I could’ve made it work. Oh well. I’ve done ok staying up all night when I flew to Germany a year and a half ago; let’s see if I can do it again.
8:45 Dinner is a mash-up of chicken, mashed potatoes and mixed veggies. It’s not appetizing at all but I force myself to eat it as I have eaten little today. Plus turbulence doesn’t bother me as much when I have a full stomach.
9:30 Start getting a little tired so turn on my movie. Jennifer let me have her Netflix spot so the two movies for this trip are The Great Escape (running time: 172 minutes) and Kingdom of Heaven (190 minutes or so). Since The Great Escape is set in Germany (i.e. Europe), I opt to watch it first.
10:00 The movie isn’t bad but it’s not super good. How do I know it’s not super good? I have to pause it when we go through a slight bout of turbulence. Jennifer and I once watched a super good episode of CSI as we were flying on the underside of a nasty cloud.
10:30 Doh. The guy in front of me just moved his seat back. I hate it when people do that and I’m trying to watch a movie on the laptop because it forces me to have the laptop at a weird angle. Urgh.
11:30 The guy in front of me mysteriously moves his seat forward. Maybe I do have ESP after all.
12:00 Movie’s over but only have 28 minutes of battery power left. I’m not feeling super-tired though. Time to go back to the book.
12:30am or 6:30am Hungary time Top ‘o the morning to ya! It’s getting light outside and I think we’re over Ireland. Seeing Europe from the plane is always so surreal. You realize it’s Europe yet it doesn’t quite seem real since you can’t see details at 35,000 feet. Actually, it’s a little cloudy and hazy down below so I can’t see much land at all.
7:00 I would really love to open my window all the way but since everybody else has theirs closed and are mostly still sleeping, me letting in a big shaft of light would not be taken too kindly. Instead, I raise it up for a quick peek every 10-15 minutes.
7:30 You know what? I really should be super tired by now but I’m not. I don’t know what the deal is as I haven’t even had any caffeine on this flight. I may just be in one of those overdrive modes that is preventing me from being tired. That actually happened when I flew to Germany and went into the Munich office the same day. Archer is sleeping away though. He was really nice though the two times I made him wake up so I could use the bathroom and take out my contact lenses. Once upon a time I hopped over a sleeping seatmate but methinks those days are over. That’s a good thing.
8:00 People Like Us is keeping me riveted. Who knew rich people were this interesting?
8:30 Ooh, breakfast time! That means time to open the windows, yay! The cue was that the lights in the cabin were turned on. Anyway, breakfast is a plastic-wrapped biscuit with an egg inside and a banana. And the egg sandwich is hot!
9:30 Starting the descent into Budapest! It’s always an interesting descent because you’re coming from the west but you have to land while going east. That means you fly past the airport (you can see it clearly below) for about 20-30 miles, do a 180 and come on in. Never bores me, particularly since the plane always feels like it’s flying sideways when we roll to turn.
10:00 Hi Budapesht, did you miss me? Yeah, me neither. Actually, that's not totally true. I really am excited to be back in the way I'm excited to be doing my job and be good enough at it the company doesn't think twice about forking over $1400 to send me over. Two weeks away from the fam though puts a slight damper on things. Let's get this trip knocked out!
10:01 We get to deplane directly into the terminal. I usually prefer going down stairs onto the tarmac and taking a bus but I don’t feel like dilly-dallying today. I have a train to catch!
10:03 We’re apparently the only international flight to arrive at this point as there are no other passengers at the Customs checkpoint. The Customs people never smile or acknowledge that I said good morning in Hungarian. Oh well, the important thing is that they stamped my passport and I’m officially in Hungary.
10:05 Entering the baggage claim, I immediately head to the currency exchange booth. I’ve never found out if they have the best rates or if I should change money someplace else like the previous airport or the money changing places in the lobby. Oh well, it’s too easy and time-saving to do it this way.
10:10 Still waiting
10:15 Still waiting. Everybody from the flight seems to be here now.
10:20 Oh wait, here come the bags.
10:25 Mine still hasn’t come. There are an awful lot of bags making a circuit around, meaning no one is around to pick them up or they’re from a different flight. It’s odd though and makes it more difficult to look for your own bag. Mine is a large black roller suitcase, meaning it looks like 60% of the other bags on the belt. At least it has an eye-catching orange luggage tag and is an off-brand (i.e. not Samsonite).
10:27 Still hasn’t come. The bags aren’t coming continuously though and there are still at least half of us still here including a middle-aged couple who are going to take a cruise down the Danube. I accidently remark how I’ve had my bags lost on three of my last eight flights (not completely true I later recall but I have had them lost a lot) and thus cast a damper on the conversation.
10:28 Ooh, one of their bags has come! Yay!
10:30 And here’s mine. Good luck Danube cruisers!
10:31 Walk out to the main entry area which is lined with waiting relatives and taxi drivers holding sheets with people’s names on them. There’s always a slightly dispiriting feeling when you get off your flight and no one is waiting for you. I miss the days when people could meet you at the gate though I guess that would make the lines at security even painfully longer.
10:32 I have the drill down. Head right outside to the taxi booth and buy a ticket. I always feel a little superior to the Americans who are in Hungary for the first time and are unsure exactly what to do. I shouldn’t because once upon a time I was just like them. Well, my bubble was burst when I, while trying to be all hot shot and use Hungarian words with the ticket guy, blurt out that I want to go to Terminal 1 which happens to be the terminal where we are. Ah, oh well.
10:33 The Richard Petty of Hungary decides to get me to Terminal 1 at warp speed. Thank goodness Hungarians respect traffic lights because otherwise we’d be going 90.
10:35 Good job Richard, I’m here. I manage to pay in forint and head into the terminal to buy my train ticket.
10:36 I love the Terminal 1 ticket people. Not only do they speak English but they’re friendly too. Don’t go to New York Terminal 1 ticket people! I ask the lady what time the next train is. She replies that I have seven minutes to get there as if she thinks I might opt to wait an hour for the next one to avoid hurrying. Who is she kidding?
10:37 I discover I can’t run with the heavy rolling bag so instead walk briskly while rolling it behind me. I know I have more than enough time but you want to be sure, you know?
10:38 Oh criminy. I have to lug it up the stairs of the elevated walkway (which is about three stories tall) and then back down. I could use the elevator but I think it’d take too long.
10:39 For some reason the elevated walkway is completely encased in plastic, making it like an oven. I’m already sweating. But there’s no train waiting below so I know I’m going to make it.
10:40 Phew, I’m on the platform.
10:42 And here comes the train. Remembering my previous experience with taking the wrong train (my Monor/Szolnok adventure) I ask the guy next to me to confirm it’s going to Debrecen by pointing at the train and saying ‘Debrecen?’ He nods. Excellent.
10:43 I know which car to get in and find my seat. I’m sitting next to two elderly guys who remind me of the old man from that Pixar short who plays a game of chess with himself. It’s going to be a long train ride.
10:45 It’s kind of hot in here. The a/c must be having some problems. I was sweating a little from my exertion to get to the platform but I’m still sweating, maybe even a little more.
10:50 Yep, the a/c’s out. Wonderful. But no one has opened any of the windows. It’s not like we’re going that fast people! Sitting next to the two elderly gentlemen who don’t seem to speak English and surely notice I’m sweating, I decide not to request that they open it.
10:55 I can’t understand Hungarian but I can tell that there is a spirited discussion between the ticket agent and some passengers who are complaining about the a/c. The ticket taker, a short, bald, bespectacled and mustached man, is pointing at the windows and the next cars as if to say ‘well smarty, open a window or go to the next car if it’s such a big problem’. I like this guy.
10:56 I refuse to contemplate going to another car as it’s not worth the possible shame of being unable to find a seat while carrying monster-sized luggage. That and finding that I took somebody’s seat. Three ladies in our car decide to make a go of it though. Two of them go and check and come back smiling, then they all three leave. See, you don’t need to speak the language to know these things.
11:10 I’m still sweating like crazy. I know I sweat more
easily than most people but this is embarassing. I have the top three buttons of my shirt unbuttoned. Ugh. I keep hoping for people to walk through the car because that creates the slightest breeze which is a relief.
11:40 Someone opened a window a bit further up. I move up to an empty row once occupied by some people who exited at Szolnok to take advantage. Ah, a breeze. Relief! My clothes still stink though.
11:45 Am able to read some more of People Like Us to while away the rest of the train trip.
12:00 We’re here!
12:01 Manage to get off the train without falling over due to weight of suitcase. Now to navigate the staircases to get under the tracks and back up at the station.
12:03 I know this drill now too. Go find a taxi right outside the station. One time long ago there wasn’t anyone but lately they’re always there. It’s fun to see them sitting in their little parking lot watching you as you come out, trying to see if you’re going to hire them. I always walk about 1/3 of the way towards them without making eye contact, then catching their eye and nodding almost imperceptibly. Then, when I’m 2/3 of the way, I just continue to stare at them until they get out to take the luggage. You know of course they don’t want to get out and then have you say ‘psyche’ and walk over the to bus stop.
12:04 I tell the cabbie, who I don’t think speaks English exactly where I want to go and we’re off. I could actually take the railcar that goes through the center of town except for a) I’ve never learned how to buy a ticket for the thing and b) I don’t know exactly where on the route the hotel is. Better to have a cab especially since NI is paying. It’s cool too because I know the town well enough now that I know exactly which way he is going to go.
12:08 And here I is! Time to check into the hotel and end my journey. From door-to-door it was about nineteen hours, not too shabby, though starting from Dallas shaved about 5-7 hours off of the normal time.
Since I’ve been to Hungary a bunch of times before, this being either my seventh or eighth time, I’m going to do something a little different for this travel blog: I’m going to instead give you a play-by-play of my travel from door to door. I don’t have any Ambien to help me fall asleep so the writing may become less coherent as the blog progresses but we’ll see how I do!
6:30 Woke up after a night of slightly wakeful sleep. We brought the kid up to Dallas yesterday so Jennifer and he could stay with my wonderful in-laws for a couple of weeks. I’m considering it a loan, eh! Anyway, Jennifer got up for every disturbance during the night as he was adjusting to a new crib, new house and new latitude and thankfully let me sleep. Thanks Jennifer, you’re the best!
7:25 Am hurriedly finishing up a breakfast of a banana (gotta get in my fruits and vegetables when I can while traveling) and a ground sausage and cheese kolache from West, Texas.
7:50 My taxi service (my mother-in-law, wife and kid) departs from the house for the 25 minute drive across town to DFW. I could’ve used Super Shuttle but they wanted to do it and hey, who was I to argue. Besides, I’ll expense the mileage which will come out to probably what Super Shuttle would’ve charged anyway and this way I don’t have to wait around for the van, don’t have to sit and drive all over town to pick up other people, can leave the house as late as possible and still be at the airport with an hour-and-a-half to spare.
8:20 Very little traffic on a Sunday morning and we’re here. I spent the trip in the backseat with the kid keeping the morning sun out of his eyes. We gave up and popped a pacifier in his mouth since he was getting cranky but pacifiers during the day are now a weekly occurrence at most. We’re still working on the at night part since we’re trying to get him to go to sleep on his own with mixed results so far. Also, did you know that DFW charges you $2 just to enter the airport area, regardless of whether you’re parking, picking somebody up or dropping somebody off? Has the Wright Amendment been repealed yet?
8:25 Say goodbye to my chauffeurs. One thing I’ve learned after traveling so much is how to say a proper goodbye to Jennifer, meaning that I don’t watch her drive away thinking ‘aw man, I should’ve said ‘I love you’ one more time’. We’ve got it down. And actually this is the third time I’ve said goodbye to the kid though the first two were domestic trips that lasted no more than four days (i.e. within easy cell phone contact). This is different. I’m going to miss them all and I’ll now be the person who can point out how he’s changed since I’ve last seen him.
8:30 Attempt to check in with Delta who decide to have only two attendants working the baggage check-in as well as anybody that can’t use the self-service machines to print their tickets. I have no problem with the machine but have to wait around 7-10 minutes for an attendant to be freed up to take my suitcase. Despite the fact that it must weigh about 300 lbs, she doesn’t say anything about it being over the 50 lb limit. Contents include seven days worth of clothes, three pairs of shoes (dress shoes, walking shoes for Romania and basketball shoes so I don’t roll my ankle dunking on the Hungarians), two packages of Starbucks coffee (a gift), ten packs of bubble gum (more gifts), two books and other odds and ends. Actually, it’s probably standard weight for a large rolling suitcase. Thankfully I’m not taking a suit jacket this time so I don’t have to take the big foldover garment bag instead.
8:35 This is a first; there is no wait at the security checkpoint. I have to assume there aren’t many flights on Sunday morning. Thank you TSA! They don’t say anything about taking off my shoes but I do anyway just in case. I also take off my belt, remove my wallet and cell phone from my pockets and my laptop from my backpack. I slide everything through with no issues. The TSA people were even friendly. I guess not having a line of 100 people waiting to go through really helps.
8:40 After a brief walk I’m at my gate, yay! We’re flying a plane with two seats on either side so it will take four hours to get to NYC JFK. But it also means fewer people in the waiting area though the really important thing is how much room there is for those people. So far, it looks like there’s enough room though I think the flight is sold out. We’ll see. I somehow, despite booking a summer flight only a month early, got seats right where I like them: by the window either just in front or just behind the wing. I don’t care about legroom; this may sound silly but having the extra legroom on the exit row means nothing to me since I can stick my legs under the seat in front of me pretty well. Better leave those seats to the tall people. I just want to look out the window as those of you who know me are aware. Every flight is different when you can look out the window though it also helps if you can talk to the person next to you. Oh, another plus for this gate: power outlets! Well, at least four. That’s how I’m able to type this now instead of write it.
You’ll see from this photo I’m wearing my traveling gear. The shoes are easy to slip on and off for security checks and attempts to sleep on the flight, the pants are jeans meaning they’re comfortable and allow me to pack lighter khakis in my luggage, the shirt is nice and comfortable and, most importantly, does not indicate what nationality I am (no English words) and my haircut is not uncommon among men in Eastern Europe. If I were a woman of course I’d consider dyeing my hair bright red, eh!
9:50 We should have boarded by now. It appears I may miss a part of the World Cup final especially considering we’re flying into the New York City metro area which, since it has three airports (JFK, LaGuardia and Newark) is famous for congestion. Oh well. I’m amusing myself by reading Fairest by Gail Carson Levine, the lady who wrote the best novel I’ve ever read featuring a girl as the main character, Ella Enchanted. Fairest is also this trip’s ‘kid’s-type book that I’m reading because, well, Jennifer likes it and reading it makes me feel like a better husband’. Fairest seems to be a pretty good yarn but I’m betting I’ll finish it in a couple of hours. Since it’s in hard cover and being a kid’s book the pages don’t have the usual ton of text on them, this book is definitely taking up more space than it should in my luggage. See, I try to get thick paperbacks because they have the most words per page and thus the most words per square inch, maximizing reading time while minimizing space taken up in my luggage. This trip’s other books, of which there are four since I’ll be gone for two weeks and am always paranoid I’ll run out of reading material are: McTeague, by Frank Norris (the token classic that I will read last if at all), People Like Us by Dominick Dunne (a fictionalized account of New York high society in the 1980s) and Black Fox by (I’m too lazy to go over to my suitcase and look it up), a Western that apparently was also a miniseries in the 1970s or 80s. I would have better books but the Austin Public Library system has a paltry selection of paperback fiction in any of its libraries, or at least the two nearest our house.
10:10 Yay, we’re boarding. Let’s get this show on the road! I hang back as usual waiting to be among the last to load up. What’s the hurry of getting on the plane if you’re going to be sitting there for three hours anyway? Oh yeah, to have a space for your carry-on luggage since the airlines now charge extra for them. Luckily for me I just have my backpack which fits under the seat, well, most of it anyway.
10:20 My seatmate is a young guy speaking what sounds like Arabic into his cell phone. I presume from that and his manner that he doesn’t speak English and don’t attempt to make conversation.
10:30 Beautiful day for a take-off from DFW. Nary a cloud in the sky. Too bad I can’t see it though as my seat, though advertised as a window, does not actually have a window. I can barely see out of the window of the lady in front of me but five seconds after we take off she shuts it. Zounds!
10:50 Have discovered that not being able to look out the window allows me to more easily concentrate on reading Fairest. Our heroine has just met the prince!!
1:00 Eastern Time. Pretty uneventful flight. I think I might finish this book. World Cup final starts in a half hour though and I think with taxiing and deplaning I’m going to miss at least the first thirty minutes.
1:40 Uh oh. We’re close to NYC but now we’re circling over Long Island Sound. After one full revolution over open ocean, the pilot helpfully explains that with some cumulus clouds over NYC and a lot of congestion (he forgot to mention that we also left late) we’re going to be in a holding pattern for 15-20 minutes. Great. Even better, he states that ‘we have plenty of gas’. Thanks for the words of assurance buddy, I don’t usually worry about that but now I’ll be thinking about it as we keep turning.
1:55 Fifteen minutes and 720 degrees later, we’re descending. Turns out we were over the Jersey Shore instead of Long Island which I didn’t fully grasp until I saw Manhattan out the window. NYC is huge!!!! Oh, how did I see Manhattan? The elderly lady in front of me pulled her window shade up once we started circling. Thanks elderly lady! I was going to thank you but decided against it.
2:05 We’ve landed, let’s get to that gate!
2:10 No gate for us. We’re deplaning on the tarmac but instead of a bus to take us to the terminal, we’re walking through this weird metal/plasticky tunnel. They must have a/c or a powerful fan in it because it’s not an oven. Still kind of reminds me of the tunnels at Elliot’s house in ET though.
2:15 Hallelujah! Just walked into a very crowded terminal to see a bar just past our gate with a bunch of TVs. 42 minutes gone and the score is still 0-0! Yes! That’s one great thing about soccer: you can miss half the game and there’s a good chance you haven’t missed much of anything.
2:20 Jennifer calls to check that I made it ok. One more minute to go in the half Jennifer...I’ll call you back!
2:22 Chat with Jennifer for about five minutes in a quiet part of the terminal.
2:28 Chat with Font about how the first half went. The Dutch are playing ugly ball. I was going to root for them since they hadn’t won a major championship lately but I think I’ll just root for the game not to go to penalty kicks.
2:40 Standing out beyond the bar watching the second half. I just realized that I’m in probably the most multicultural place in America right now watching the most popular sporting event in the world. You want to know how multicultural JFK airport is? While deplaning I saw an Uzbekistan airlines plane take off. Who knew Uzbekistan had gasoline, much less an airline?
3:20 This game is definitely going to penalties.
3:30 I take a seat in the table area of the bar but can’t get anybody to come and take my order. Really New York people, I want to spend my money at your establishment! However, if you don’t want my money I’m not going to give it to you.
4:10 or so Mercifully, Holland got a man red-carded and Holland, down to ten men, concedes the winning goal by Spain with maybe four minutes left. No penalty kicks and the best team definitely won.
4:15 Set off to find my gate. It’s in the same terminal but I’m going to have to hoof it. Good thing it doesn’t take off until 7:45.
4:25 Stop at Dunkin’ Donuts and get my dinner/late lunch, two flat bread sandwiches that are nothing special but are hot. I’ve decided that when eating at an airport, hot food beats cold food (i.e. cold sandwiches) every single time, hands down. Hot food is comfort food when you’re on the road. Much better than my cold snack food that I carry around with me.
4:35 It takes ten minutes to buy a bottle of soda at Chili’s. More stellar NYC service. I miss Texas hospitality.
4:45 Wolf down my dinner and call Jennifer. We talk for fifty minutes, about 25 minutes longer than really necessary but I just want to talk to her to pass the time. It’s much more pleasant than reading my book or listening to the iPod and people-watching.
5:50 Start reading People Like Us as I finished Fairest right as the plane started to descend into JFK. Never figured I’d be interested in a book about people talking about people but it’s pretty good so far. I’d go faster if I didn’t stop every minute or so to people watch.
6:45 It’s past time to board but finally the plane we’ll be using has arrived. To my slight dismay, it’s a Delta plane. I figured it would be but I was hoping for a random Malev Hungarian or Air France crew since it’s more interesting to fly with non-US carriers.
7:30 We’re boarding. Two girls have fallen asleep nearby so I gave on of them a slight kick as the last of us were boarding. Turns out they weren’t going to Budapest even though they’d been around the gate as long as I had. The girl I kicked thanked me though and I felt better not having it on my conscience that a couple of people slept and missed their international flight. I wonder if the Delta people would have gone and woken them up?
7:35 Whoa. My seatmate is the first ever to actually initiate a conversation with me. It was actually before I even sat down. He is a mid-30s white guy whose manner and look screams frat guy. He remarks that we’re really in for it as we have two aged-ten boys behind us and a dog in a carrier to our left (we’re at the window). I don’t agree with him as who knows how the boys will behave and I love having a dog around. It’s in a mesh carrier and appears to be a rat terrier though I later found out it’s a basenji. The poor dog is just chilling on the floor in front of a little girl. It’s so cute though. Usually you figure a dog on a plane is going to be some rich old lady’s poodle named Muffin or something. Anyway, I ask frat guy about his travels and he informs me he’s on the US archery team and traveling to a world championship in Budapest. Wow. That’s random. He’s doing this professionally and apparently travels about 35 weeks a year. The longest distance he shoots from is 98.5m which is about the length of a football field and he is expected to hit the center circle every time. Wow. Good luck buddy. Interestingly enough, while he’s willing to answer my questions, he doesn’t ask a single thing about me. Slight non-plussed, I end the conversation before we take off. Too bad. At least ask me where I'm going archery guy!!!
8:00 Alright, we’re in the air. I have an actual window this time so I’m happy as a clam. The takeoff is fairly smooth and we have a nice view of the clouds and NYC for a little bit. It’s always weird taking off at sunset flying east because you’re high enough to look back and see daylight but ahead only see darkness. It’s kind of eerie actually.
8:15 It’s getting too dark to look out the window so I’ll read instead. The plan is to read until I’m tired, then watch a movie. This plane doesn’t have TVs in the seats so we will watch whatever’s on the main monitors. Tonight’s movies are The Ghost Writer, Invictus and Harry Potterand the Half-Blood Prince. I’m not interested in the first two but the third should keep my interest. I didn’t pack any Ambien for this trip since I thought the flights would be too short. At seven hours and 45 minutes, this one would have been cutting it close but since I only sleep six hours anyway I could’ve made it work. Oh well. I’ve done ok staying up all night when I flew to Germany a year and a half ago; let’s see if I can do it again.
8:45 Dinner is a mash-up of chicken, mashed potatoes and mixed veggies. It’s not appetizing at all but I force myself to eat it as I have eaten little today. Plus turbulence doesn’t bother me as much when I have a full stomach.
9:30 Start getting a little tired so turn on my movie. Jennifer let me have her Netflix spot so the two movies for this trip are The Great Escape (running time: 172 minutes) and Kingdom of Heaven (190 minutes or so). Since The Great Escape is set in Germany (i.e. Europe), I opt to watch it first.
10:00 The movie isn’t bad but it’s not super good. How do I know it’s not super good? I have to pause it when we go through a slight bout of turbulence. Jennifer and I once watched a super good episode of CSI as we were flying on the underside of a nasty cloud.
10:30 Doh. The guy in front of me just moved his seat back. I hate it when people do that and I’m trying to watch a movie on the laptop because it forces me to have the laptop at a weird angle. Urgh.
11:30 The guy in front of me mysteriously moves his seat forward. Maybe I do have ESP after all.
12:00 Movie’s over but only have 28 minutes of battery power left. I’m not feeling super-tired though. Time to go back to the book.
12:30am or 6:30am Hungary time Top ‘o the morning to ya! It’s getting light outside and I think we’re over Ireland. Seeing Europe from the plane is always so surreal. You realize it’s Europe yet it doesn’t quite seem real since you can’t see details at 35,000 feet. Actually, it’s a little cloudy and hazy down below so I can’t see much land at all.
7:00 I would really love to open my window all the way but since everybody else has theirs closed and are mostly still sleeping, me letting in a big shaft of light would not be taken too kindly. Instead, I raise it up for a quick peek every 10-15 minutes.
7:30 You know what? I really should be super tired by now but I’m not. I don’t know what the deal is as I haven’t even had any caffeine on this flight. I may just be in one of those overdrive modes that is preventing me from being tired. That actually happened when I flew to Germany and went into the Munich office the same day. Archer is sleeping away though. He was really nice though the two times I made him wake up so I could use the bathroom and take out my contact lenses. Once upon a time I hopped over a sleeping seatmate but methinks those days are over. That’s a good thing.
8:00 People Like Us is keeping me riveted. Who knew rich people were this interesting?
8:30 Ooh, breakfast time! That means time to open the windows, yay! The cue was that the lights in the cabin were turned on. Anyway, breakfast is a plastic-wrapped biscuit with an egg inside and a banana. And the egg sandwich is hot!
9:30 Starting the descent into Budapest! It’s always an interesting descent because you’re coming from the west but you have to land while going east. That means you fly past the airport (you can see it clearly below) for about 20-30 miles, do a 180 and come on in. Never bores me, particularly since the plane always feels like it’s flying sideways when we roll to turn.
10:00 Hi Budapesht, did you miss me? Yeah, me neither. Actually, that's not totally true. I really am excited to be back in the way I'm excited to be doing my job and be good enough at it the company doesn't think twice about forking over $1400 to send me over. Two weeks away from the fam though puts a slight damper on things. Let's get this trip knocked out!
10:01 We get to deplane directly into the terminal. I usually prefer going down stairs onto the tarmac and taking a bus but I don’t feel like dilly-dallying today. I have a train to catch!
10:03 We’re apparently the only international flight to arrive at this point as there are no other passengers at the Customs checkpoint. The Customs people never smile or acknowledge that I said good morning in Hungarian. Oh well, the important thing is that they stamped my passport and I’m officially in Hungary.
10:05 Entering the baggage claim, I immediately head to the currency exchange booth. I’ve never found out if they have the best rates or if I should change money someplace else like the previous airport or the money changing places in the lobby. Oh well, it’s too easy and time-saving to do it this way.
10:10 Still waiting
10:15 Still waiting. Everybody from the flight seems to be here now.
10:20 Oh wait, here come the bags.
10:25 Mine still hasn’t come. There are an awful lot of bags making a circuit around, meaning no one is around to pick them up or they’re from a different flight. It’s odd though and makes it more difficult to look for your own bag. Mine is a large black roller suitcase, meaning it looks like 60% of the other bags on the belt. At least it has an eye-catching orange luggage tag and is an off-brand (i.e. not Samsonite).
10:27 Still hasn’t come. The bags aren’t coming continuously though and there are still at least half of us still here including a middle-aged couple who are going to take a cruise down the Danube. I accidently remark how I’ve had my bags lost on three of my last eight flights (not completely true I later recall but I have had them lost a lot) and thus cast a damper on the conversation.
10:28 Ooh, one of their bags has come! Yay!
10:30 And here’s mine. Good luck Danube cruisers!
10:31 Walk out to the main entry area which is lined with waiting relatives and taxi drivers holding sheets with people’s names on them. There’s always a slightly dispiriting feeling when you get off your flight and no one is waiting for you. I miss the days when people could meet you at the gate though I guess that would make the lines at security even painfully longer.
10:32 I have the drill down. Head right outside to the taxi booth and buy a ticket. I always feel a little superior to the Americans who are in Hungary for the first time and are unsure exactly what to do. I shouldn’t because once upon a time I was just like them. Well, my bubble was burst when I, while trying to be all hot shot and use Hungarian words with the ticket guy, blurt out that I want to go to Terminal 1 which happens to be the terminal where we are. Ah, oh well.
10:33 The Richard Petty of Hungary decides to get me to Terminal 1 at warp speed. Thank goodness Hungarians respect traffic lights because otherwise we’d be going 90.
10:35 Good job Richard, I’m here. I manage to pay in forint and head into the terminal to buy my train ticket.
10:36 I love the Terminal 1 ticket people. Not only do they speak English but they’re friendly too. Don’t go to New York Terminal 1 ticket people! I ask the lady what time the next train is. She replies that I have seven minutes to get there as if she thinks I might opt to wait an hour for the next one to avoid hurrying. Who is she kidding?
10:37 I discover I can’t run with the heavy rolling bag so instead walk briskly while rolling it behind me. I know I have more than enough time but you want to be sure, you know?
10:38 Oh criminy. I have to lug it up the stairs of the elevated walkway (which is about three stories tall) and then back down. I could use the elevator but I think it’d take too long.
10:39 For some reason the elevated walkway is completely encased in plastic, making it like an oven. I’m already sweating. But there’s no train waiting below so I know I’m going to make it.
10:40 Phew, I’m on the platform.
10:42 And here comes the train. Remembering my previous experience with taking the wrong train (my Monor/Szolnok adventure) I ask the guy next to me to confirm it’s going to Debrecen by pointing at the train and saying ‘Debrecen?’ He nods. Excellent.
10:43 I know which car to get in and find my seat. I’m sitting next to two elderly guys who remind me of the old man from that Pixar short who plays a game of chess with himself. It’s going to be a long train ride.
10:45 It’s kind of hot in here. The a/c must be having some problems. I was sweating a little from my exertion to get to the platform but I’m still sweating, maybe even a little more.
10:50 Yep, the a/c’s out. Wonderful. But no one has opened any of the windows. It’s not like we’re going that fast people! Sitting next to the two elderly gentlemen who don’t seem to speak English and surely notice I’m sweating, I decide not to request that they open it.
10:55 I can’t understand Hungarian but I can tell that there is a spirited discussion between the ticket agent and some passengers who are complaining about the a/c. The ticket taker, a short, bald, bespectacled and mustached man, is pointing at the windows and the next cars as if to say ‘well smarty, open a window or go to the next car if it’s such a big problem’. I like this guy.
10:56 I refuse to contemplate going to another car as it’s not worth the possible shame of being unable to find a seat while carrying monster-sized luggage. That and finding that I took somebody’s seat. Three ladies in our car decide to make a go of it though. Two of them go and check and come back smiling, then they all three leave. See, you don’t need to speak the language to know these things.
11:10 I’m still sweating like crazy. I know I sweat more
easily than most people but this is embarassing. I have the top three buttons of my shirt unbuttoned. Ugh. I keep hoping for people to walk through the car because that creates the slightest breeze which is a relief.
11:40 Someone opened a window a bit further up. I move up to an empty row once occupied by some people who exited at Szolnok to take advantage. Ah, a breeze. Relief! My clothes still stink though.
11:45 Am able to read some more of People Like Us to while away the rest of the train trip.
12:00 We’re here!
12:01 Manage to get off the train without falling over due to weight of suitcase. Now to navigate the staircases to get under the tracks and back up at the station.
12:03 I know this drill now too. Go find a taxi right outside the station. One time long ago there wasn’t anyone but lately they’re always there. It’s fun to see them sitting in their little parking lot watching you as you come out, trying to see if you’re going to hire them. I always walk about 1/3 of the way towards them without making eye contact, then catching their eye and nodding almost imperceptibly. Then, when I’m 2/3 of the way, I just continue to stare at them until they get out to take the luggage. You know of course they don’t want to get out and then have you say ‘psyche’ and walk over the to bus stop.
12:04 I tell the cabbie, who I don’t think speaks English exactly where I want to go and we’re off. I could actually take the railcar that goes through the center of town except for a) I’ve never learned how to buy a ticket for the thing and b) I don’t know exactly where on the route the hotel is. Better to have a cab especially since NI is paying. It’s cool too because I know the town well enough now that I know exactly which way he is going to go.
12:08 And here I is! Time to check into the hotel and end my journey. From door-to-door it was about nineteen hours, not too shabby, though starting from Dallas shaved about 5-7 hours off of the normal time.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Denver, Colorado
Colorado Rocky Mountain highhhhhhhh!!!!!!! I’ve seen it raining fire in the sky! Well, not really but I did just get back from a 1.5 day training session on the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (don’t ask) in Denver. I’ll apologize in advance to any friends of mine who I was unaware were living in Denver and would now like to clue me in on that fact.
Anyway, this trip was going to be a bit different because a couple of non-trade compliance guys, Kevin and Mike, were going to accompany me so they could get a taste of, provide a different perspective on and bring up hitherto unknown issues about the ITAR as it would affect the company. We were going to take the same flights and even stay in the same room...yes, the same room; it’s a tough economy. An attorney for the company would also be attending but she was taking different flights.
We took off from work at about noon on Wednesday, driving the ‘ol Camry Hybrid down to Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. It was a nice day, we were well ahead of schedule and we only had carry-on luggage so instead of catching the shuttle, we hoofed it across the parking lots to the terminal on foot. That’s one of the cool things about having a small hometown airport. The others are not having to walk a year and a half across the terminal to get to your gate. Bergstrom is shaped a bit like a half moon and so it’s easy peasy to get to where you’re going. It’s like the anti-Chicago O’Hare. The only downside, of course, is that it limits the cities where you can fly direct although there are a surprising number. If I hadn’t posted it before, a nifty map is here:
http://www.ci.austin.tx.us/austinairport/nonstops.htm
Heh, even to Lubbock. Austinites, before you complain about the paucity of options flying out of Bergstrom, check out Lubbock’s: DFW, Houston (IAH), Memphis, Albuquerque, Austin and Las Vegas.
Our flight was going to be on Frontier Airlines, the Denver-based airline that was going to have us on a, wait for it, direct flight! Yay! I had flown Frontier before from Austin to Phoenix via Denver last fall and had a decently pleasant experience. They’re the airline who have three interesting gimmicks. The first is to put wild animals on the tails of their planes and give them names. The flight attendants informed us during the safety briefing that we were flying with Jake the White-Tailed Deer. Pleased to meet you Jake! I see you’re also on the winglets at the end of the wings. The second gimmick is that Frontier has a hybrid first-class: the first four rows have extra legroom. For $25 a flight you can upgrade to those seats but if the flight is full they’ll fill those seats anyway with people that haven’t upgraded (as happened to us on the flight back). The third is that there are TVs on every seat back that you pay $6 for live DirecTV and $8 for first-run movies. If you don’t want to pay though, you are sometimes subjected to preview programming the whole trip because you can’t turn off the TV. As someone who either wants to look out the window, read or watch movies on the laptop, I don’t appreciate the extra distraction but, well, like most American flyers I’ll put up with a lot for the cheapest ticket and a direct flight to boot.
We arrived early enough that I was able to reserve a choice window seat in row 5. The flight was only 2/3 full at most so there were a lot of empty seats and, thankfully, plenty of room for the carry-on bags in the overhead bins. With all of the extra charges for checking in bags ($15-25) a lot more people are carrying on things, a lot of which you think shouldn’t be carry-ons. On a full flight you might not have a spot in a bin near you and either have to put it toward the back of the plane or have it checked, I think at no charge. I usually only take my backpack on-board when I travel, checking a suitcase, so I usually don’t have to worry about finding a bin. Trying to get an overhead bin spot definitely gives you an incentive to try to get on the flight as early as possible as opposed to my preferred method of waiting until most of the plane has boarded. You’re going to be spending a lot of time in it anyway, why increase the amount?
We had an interesting take-off out of Austin to avoid all the patchy layers of clouds. Usually when you take off you go straight up with maybe one turn to orient the plane in the direction you want to go. When you make multiple turns on the way up you know it’s a bit hairy. I think I regressed a bit in my turbulence tolerance as I was a bit light-headed until we levelled off though I don’t think my palms were sweaty (which is usually the first sign). Although I had a window seat, my view was mostly of clouds during the whole 1 hour and 43 minute flight, at least until we descended into Denver and I could see the Rockies towering in the distance. Luckily I had a seat on the left side of the plane as all the right side would see was plains and scrub. I always forget to request the side of the plane facing the mountains but this time I was lucky.
As I may have written last November, Denver is located on reasonably flat land with nary a tree to be seen. However, it can’t be more than 20-30 miles from the Rockies which is I suppose the big attraction. Its annual precipitation is only about 16”, well below Austin’s 33”. Wow. And I suppose that includes their snow.
Wow. Wikipedia tells me (so it must be the truth, eh) that Denver International Airport is the third-largest airport by land volume in the world and the tenth-busiest by passenger traffic. Denver?! Who knew?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denver_International_Airport
And while we’re on the subject, here’s the top 30 by passenger traffic for 2009:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World%27s_busiest_airports_by_passenger_traffic#2009_statistics
And holy smokes, I’ve flown through each of the top fourteen.
We caught a Super Shuttle into downtown, about a twenty minute drive past lots of scrub and industrial areas. Our hotel was the Courtyard by Marriot Downtown. For $249 a night we could cram the three of us into a larger room with a king bed, a fold-out couch and a rolling twin with a mattress as good as the king. Staying three to a room might seem like a problem except that a) all three of us are pretty easy-going and reasonably quiet and b) we weren’t going to be spending much time in the room anyway. We were in the room by five catching up on work e-mail and around six or six-thirty set out to find something to eat. After having dinner at a burger restaurant, whose signature burger had a Hatch chile on it (misspelled as ‘chili’) and a stop at a bar afterward, we got back to the room and were all asleep within thirty minutes. I took the fold-out couch because, despite it being by far the least comfortable, I at least was not having to get up in the middle of the night to change a diaper or two.
The next morning we set out to find breakfast as the Courtyard didn’t have breakfast included in the room rate. We walked about six blocks down to an eatery recommended by the hotel clerks called the Delectable Egg. It was a local breakfast spot full of people about to head off to work downtown. This brings up an important travel point for those who know my travel habits: if I had been traveling alone, I never would have eaten there. Instead, I would’ve eaten very quickly in the hotel’s restaurant and been done with it. See, it is quite depressing for me to eat in a restaurant alone. I hate it. It makes me feel like a social failure, especially when there are tons of other people around having great conversations. The best I can do in such a place is to find a table near the window and sit facing it so that a) I can at least watch people walking by (and not just stare at my plate or a book) and b) so that I don’t have to see all of the other restaurant patrons. Therefore, when I search for eating spots, I invariably miss out on some great food because I try to find the places that have very few people in them so I can eat in reasonable solitude. This invariably means going to lunch counter-type places that serve things like gyros (in Europe), pizza or sandwiches but to me, that’s better than having fantastic food and a depressing social mood. Therefore, I was quite thankful to have meal companions.
The seminar was quite productive. I won’t bore you with the details.
That evening Mike and I took a walk through downtown Denver. The downtown area is kind of nice and has some pretty paths along Cherry Creek and the South Platte River. We followed those around, past the Broncos massive stadium, through an industrial area, an inner city neighborhood, by the State Capitol and back through downtown to our hotel. Feeling a bit tired after walking over five miles, we stayed at the hotel for dinner.
The next day we ate at the Delectable Egg for the second time, attended the final three and a half hours of the seminar (if you’re truly interested, more info is here: http://www.fedpubseminars.com/Course/?id=34&t=public). We caught Super Shuttle to the airport and somehow finangled seats in the first four rows, the ones with the extra legroom. Seems Frontier tries to get people to upgrade to those when they check in, then, when all the regular economy seats have filled up, they start filling all the empty seats with passengers who did not choose to upgrade but are checking in later. Mike and Kevin had to get their seats at the gate but I had a middle seat. At the gate, they obtained choice seats and, to my surprise, they switched my middle seat for a window in Row 3. Fantastic.
It was raining in Austin when I called Jennifer at the airport. I said that the weather was fantastic as far as I knew there weren’t any issues but I was unaware of the Austin weather conditions. Jennifer, knowing how much I hate turbulence, didn’t say anything (thanks Jennifer!). Of course, before we took off I knew because my seatmate was watching the weather when I glanced over plus the captain didn’t tell us our expected arrival time as they usually do. Oh well...let’s get back home! Of course, the urge to get back home wasn’t as large as usual because I’d only been away for two days as opposed to the usual two weeks but still, it would be nice to be able to sleep in my own bed at home that night. As we approached Austin we wove our way past massive cumulonimbus clouds signaling thunderstorms. It’s weird when you see clouds that reach higher than where the plane is, especially when you’re at cruising altitude. Luckily it was only cloudy in Austin and we landed with only some slight bumpiness.
After dropping off Kevin and Mike back at the company facility where they’d left their cars, I was back home by about 7pm last (Friday) night, yay! Most likely I won’t be back on the road until July when I take a scheduled and overdue trip to Hungary (budgetary considerations necessitated the delay) for a week or more. Until then, thanks for reading!
Anyway, this trip was going to be a bit different because a couple of non-trade compliance guys, Kevin and Mike, were going to accompany me so they could get a taste of, provide a different perspective on and bring up hitherto unknown issues about the ITAR as it would affect the company. We were going to take the same flights and even stay in the same room...yes, the same room; it’s a tough economy. An attorney for the company would also be attending but she was taking different flights.
We took off from work at about noon on Wednesday, driving the ‘ol Camry Hybrid down to Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. It was a nice day, we were well ahead of schedule and we only had carry-on luggage so instead of catching the shuttle, we hoofed it across the parking lots to the terminal on foot. That’s one of the cool things about having a small hometown airport. The others are not having to walk a year and a half across the terminal to get to your gate. Bergstrom is shaped a bit like a half moon and so it’s easy peasy to get to where you’re going. It’s like the anti-Chicago O’Hare. The only downside, of course, is that it limits the cities where you can fly direct although there are a surprising number. If I hadn’t posted it before, a nifty map is here:
http://www.ci.austin.tx.us/austinairport/nonstops.htm
Heh, even to Lubbock. Austinites, before you complain about the paucity of options flying out of Bergstrom, check out Lubbock’s: DFW, Houston (IAH), Memphis, Albuquerque, Austin and Las Vegas.
Our flight was going to be on Frontier Airlines, the Denver-based airline that was going to have us on a, wait for it, direct flight! Yay! I had flown Frontier before from Austin to Phoenix via Denver last fall and had a decently pleasant experience. They’re the airline who have three interesting gimmicks. The first is to put wild animals on the tails of their planes and give them names. The flight attendants informed us during the safety briefing that we were flying with Jake the White-Tailed Deer. Pleased to meet you Jake! I see you’re also on the winglets at the end of the wings. The second gimmick is that Frontier has a hybrid first-class: the first four rows have extra legroom. For $25 a flight you can upgrade to those seats but if the flight is full they’ll fill those seats anyway with people that haven’t upgraded (as happened to us on the flight back). The third is that there are TVs on every seat back that you pay $6 for live DirecTV and $8 for first-run movies. If you don’t want to pay though, you are sometimes subjected to preview programming the whole trip because you can’t turn off the TV. As someone who either wants to look out the window, read or watch movies on the laptop, I don’t appreciate the extra distraction but, well, like most American flyers I’ll put up with a lot for the cheapest ticket and a direct flight to boot.
We arrived early enough that I was able to reserve a choice window seat in row 5. The flight was only 2/3 full at most so there were a lot of empty seats and, thankfully, plenty of room for the carry-on bags in the overhead bins. With all of the extra charges for checking in bags ($15-25) a lot more people are carrying on things, a lot of which you think shouldn’t be carry-ons. On a full flight you might not have a spot in a bin near you and either have to put it toward the back of the plane or have it checked, I think at no charge. I usually only take my backpack on-board when I travel, checking a suitcase, so I usually don’t have to worry about finding a bin. Trying to get an overhead bin spot definitely gives you an incentive to try to get on the flight as early as possible as opposed to my preferred method of waiting until most of the plane has boarded. You’re going to be spending a lot of time in it anyway, why increase the amount?
We had an interesting take-off out of Austin to avoid all the patchy layers of clouds. Usually when you take off you go straight up with maybe one turn to orient the plane in the direction you want to go. When you make multiple turns on the way up you know it’s a bit hairy. I think I regressed a bit in my turbulence tolerance as I was a bit light-headed until we levelled off though I don’t think my palms were sweaty (which is usually the first sign). Although I had a window seat, my view was mostly of clouds during the whole 1 hour and 43 minute flight, at least until we descended into Denver and I could see the Rockies towering in the distance. Luckily I had a seat on the left side of the plane as all the right side would see was plains and scrub. I always forget to request the side of the plane facing the mountains but this time I was lucky.
As I may have written last November, Denver is located on reasonably flat land with nary a tree to be seen. However, it can’t be more than 20-30 miles from the Rockies which is I suppose the big attraction. Its annual precipitation is only about 16”, well below Austin’s 33”. Wow. And I suppose that includes their snow.
Wow. Wikipedia tells me (so it must be the truth, eh) that Denver International Airport is the third-largest airport by land volume in the world and the tenth-busiest by passenger traffic. Denver?! Who knew?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denver_International_Airport
And while we’re on the subject, here’s the top 30 by passenger traffic for 2009:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World%27s_busiest_airports_by_passenger_traffic#2009_statistics
And holy smokes, I’ve flown through each of the top fourteen.
We caught a Super Shuttle into downtown, about a twenty minute drive past lots of scrub and industrial areas. Our hotel was the Courtyard by Marriot Downtown. For $249 a night we could cram the three of us into a larger room with a king bed, a fold-out couch and a rolling twin with a mattress as good as the king. Staying three to a room might seem like a problem except that a) all three of us are pretty easy-going and reasonably quiet and b) we weren’t going to be spending much time in the room anyway. We were in the room by five catching up on work e-mail and around six or six-thirty set out to find something to eat. After having dinner at a burger restaurant, whose signature burger had a Hatch chile on it (misspelled as ‘chili’) and a stop at a bar afterward, we got back to the room and were all asleep within thirty minutes. I took the fold-out couch because, despite it being by far the least comfortable, I at least was not having to get up in the middle of the night to change a diaper or two.
The next morning we set out to find breakfast as the Courtyard didn’t have breakfast included in the room rate. We walked about six blocks down to an eatery recommended by the hotel clerks called the Delectable Egg. It was a local breakfast spot full of people about to head off to work downtown. This brings up an important travel point for those who know my travel habits: if I had been traveling alone, I never would have eaten there. Instead, I would’ve eaten very quickly in the hotel’s restaurant and been done with it. See, it is quite depressing for me to eat in a restaurant alone. I hate it. It makes me feel like a social failure, especially when there are tons of other people around having great conversations. The best I can do in such a place is to find a table near the window and sit facing it so that a) I can at least watch people walking by (and not just stare at my plate or a book) and b) so that I don’t have to see all of the other restaurant patrons. Therefore, when I search for eating spots, I invariably miss out on some great food because I try to find the places that have very few people in them so I can eat in reasonable solitude. This invariably means going to lunch counter-type places that serve things like gyros (in Europe), pizza or sandwiches but to me, that’s better than having fantastic food and a depressing social mood. Therefore, I was quite thankful to have meal companions.
The seminar was quite productive. I won’t bore you with the details.
That evening Mike and I took a walk through downtown Denver. The downtown area is kind of nice and has some pretty paths along Cherry Creek and the South Platte River. We followed those around, past the Broncos massive stadium, through an industrial area, an inner city neighborhood, by the State Capitol and back through downtown to our hotel. Feeling a bit tired after walking over five miles, we stayed at the hotel for dinner.
The next day we ate at the Delectable Egg for the second time, attended the final three and a half hours of the seminar (if you’re truly interested, more info is here: http://www.fedpubseminars.com/Course/?id=34&t=public). We caught Super Shuttle to the airport and somehow finangled seats in the first four rows, the ones with the extra legroom. Seems Frontier tries to get people to upgrade to those when they check in, then, when all the regular economy seats have filled up, they start filling all the empty seats with passengers who did not choose to upgrade but are checking in later. Mike and Kevin had to get their seats at the gate but I had a middle seat. At the gate, they obtained choice seats and, to my surprise, they switched my middle seat for a window in Row 3. Fantastic.
It was raining in Austin when I called Jennifer at the airport. I said that the weather was fantastic as far as I knew there weren’t any issues but I was unaware of the Austin weather conditions. Jennifer, knowing how much I hate turbulence, didn’t say anything (thanks Jennifer!). Of course, before we took off I knew because my seatmate was watching the weather when I glanced over plus the captain didn’t tell us our expected arrival time as they usually do. Oh well...let’s get back home! Of course, the urge to get back home wasn’t as large as usual because I’d only been away for two days as opposed to the usual two weeks but still, it would be nice to be able to sleep in my own bed at home that night. As we approached Austin we wove our way past massive cumulonimbus clouds signaling thunderstorms. It’s weird when you see clouds that reach higher than where the plane is, especially when you’re at cruising altitude. Luckily it was only cloudy in Austin and we landed with only some slight bumpiness.
After dropping off Kevin and Mike back at the company facility where they’d left their cars, I was back home by about 7pm last (Friday) night, yay! Most likely I won’t be back on the road until July when I take a scheduled and overdue trip to Hungary (budgetary considerations necessitated the delay) for a week or more. Until then, thanks for reading!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Three Days In Orlando (well, at Disney World)
Hi everyone! Guess where I was this past week? Orlando friggin’ Florida, that’s where! Why was I in Orlando? The same reason as everyone else: Disney World!!! Actually, I was there for a conference. No, seriously! Here’s the brochure:
http://digbro.com/entry/index.cfm?user_id=5149&l=0&r=0&c_id=&getFl=1&fl_id=1
And on page 2, look who, under Exports, was going to give the presentation on ‘Know your customer, your customer’s end use and applicable end use restrictions’? Me, that’s who!! I was so excited.
The trip started out at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport which, last time I checked, claimed it had flights to more cities than San Antonio did. My co-worker Barry and I were going to take a Southwest flight direct to Orlando late in the afternoon. I didn’t realize until we were about to board that the reason about a third of the passengers were under the age of twelve was that it was the first weekend of Spring Break and everybody was headed to Disney World. Seriously, everybody, even the two adults I was scrunched in between on the last row of the plane. Barry and I were among the last to board and, having not been on a Southwest flight in a while, I wasn’t sure what the availability would be of a cherished window seat. Barry got on before me and took the first aisle seat he came upon, somewhere in the middle of the plane. I couldn’t tell what was open in the back and figured, what the heck, I’d go check it out and learn something. Well, what I learned is that if you’re one of the last people to get on the plane, get the first available middle seat you see, particularly if it is between two small or thin people. As it turned out, I got the middle seat on the very last row of the plane between a smallish lady and a guy who must have weighed at least 275 lbs. You could tell he’d gone to the back first so as to lessen his chances of having someone sit next to him. The feeling was mutual buddy, lemme tell ya. Southwest’s seats feel very small but I guess that’s what we pay for. Anyway, both of my seatmates were going to Disney World. The guy was actually going to meet his family who had driven all the way from Corpus Christi. The drive was supposed to only take two days but took three due to all the traffic they kept encountering and not just in big city rush hour. I told them I was going to Disney World for a conference and their response was to laugh at me, ha!
Yes, Southwest doesn’t charge for bags. But even without that, their tickets were the cheapest and gave us the best legs. No flying to Dallas, Atlanta, Chicago, etc. for us. It was about 2 hours and 20 minutes direct to Orlando and on the way back we would have a layover in Houston which is pretty much on the way as the crow flies anyway. I was disappointed though that the baggage handlers didn’t come out and wave at us while we were taxiing away from the terminal. Oh, and the flight attendants were boring. C’mon Southwest, you’re supposed to be fun to fly!
The flight was rather uneventful and we landed in quite windy weather in sunny Orlando. Feeling particularly thankful to be alive after a somewhat iffy landing, I led an impromptu round of applause for the pilots that sounded like it was only taken up by a few people in the back of the plane. I don’t care. I think we should applaud every time we land in high wind or low visibility. Of course, I was a bit emboldened by being in the very back so no one could see who was starting the clapping.
To get to the Contemporary Resort at Disney World, we were going to take Mickey’s Magical Express which is actually just a big metal-plated bus. Our driver was Fernando Rocha, a Cuban-looking guy whose English was decent but pronounced ‘firework’ as ‘fi-wer’ and was sometimes quite incomprehensible. We were bombarded the whole fifty-minute drive by video of Disney World attractions and random songs from old Disney films. The speaker directly above my seat was so loud I was tempted to go up to my buddy Fernando and ask him how to turn it off but I decided not to so that I didn’t ruin any little kid’s Disney experience.
One thing I noticed on the drive to Disney World is that, in many peoples’ backyards, they have swimming pools which are in a mesh-looking enclosure, presumably to keep out mosquitoes. They’re directly attached to the houses allowing for easy mosquito-free access. Seemed a bit ugly but definitely quite functional. That’s what you get when you build your city on a swamp I guess. As one guy put it during the conference, he couldn’t understand living in Florida if you weren’t by the ocean.
Fernando dropped off passengers at the Wilderness Lodge, the Grand Floridian (where porters were dressed in vintage-1920s get-ups including knee-high socks and white derby caps) and finally the Contemporary. Barry and I could’ve stayed someplace much cheaper outside of the park but that would have required us to either rent a car or take transportation for a half hour or more to get to the conference. Therefore, we used a little more of the company’s money to stay onsite. There are certainly also benefits to being able to immediately run back to your room to check your e-mail. And, since the Disney monorail runs right through it, it’s easy to catch it and get to the Magic Kingdom or Epcot Center.
That reminds me: I didn’t go inside any of the parks but it’s my professional opinion that the only difference between Disney World and more pedestrian theme parks is that Disney has a) better licensable characters and b) this weird thing about ‘magic’. Then again, I’m also 31 years old so maybe I should leave the magic to the kiddies.
Barry and I arrived at the resort around 7:30, too late to register for the conference and late enough for us to be fairly hungry (Little Debbie oatmeal creme pies are only so sustaining). We checked into the hotel, found our room on the 10th floor (though the room# was 4646...what makes Disney so special they can’t have the room# start with the number of the floor?) and then went to find the California Grill to eat dinner. The Grill was on the top floor of the resort (15th) and we wanted a good view of the 10pm fireworks over the Magic Kingdom. To get to the restaurant, you have to take a separate elevator from the second floor which has a sign next to it stating that business casual attire is required. We were wearing jeans but they let us through anyway. Upon arriving up top, we were asked if we had reservations. Reservations? Uh oh. No, we hadn’t. OK, that’s fine we were told. We could order off the menu while sitting at very small two-person tables (all of which were taken) or order at the bar. Fine, we’ll do the bar. It was then that the bartender, from Glasgow, Scotland, gave us the menu. Appetizers were $10-20 and entreés averaged around $35. Uh oh. Oh well...Barry and I didn’t know where else to go and what the heck, most of our other meals during the conference were taken care of. I still ordered only appetizers though as entreés in these expensive restaurants usually are much smaller than you need to actually fill yourself up. Call it the paradox of expensive dining. I don’t understand it either.
We were later informed that to have reserved a table we would’ve needed to have called six months ago. Wow.
We hung around long enough until, just before 10pm, we wandered out onto the balcony. The view was great but it was about 50 degrees, the wind was blowing and my jacket was in the room. Who’d think that the first time I’d be truly cold this winter would be in Orlando, Florida? Fireworks are nice but they’re not worth freezing your tail off so after about five minutes I bid Barry adieu and went back inside and went to sleep.
Now one interesting thing about this trip was that, being away from the Graham cracker, I would be able to sleep through the night unbothered. Thankfully Jennifer’s mom was staying with her while I was gone but I still felt a little guilty. I must’ve felt more guilty than I’d thought because I woke up three times during the night. Of course, each time I remembered that I didn’t have any diapers to change so I immediately went back to sleep.
The next morning Barry and I headed over to the Conference, a fun and productive affair consisting of about 600 of our fellows in trade compliance. A great many of them have been around each other long enough so that each ICPA conference is a reunion; Barry and I are getting to that point which makes each conference easier to attend. It really stinks to go somewhere and not recognize anybody but now not only did we know all the Austin people that were there (well, all three of them) but also a bunch of people from all over the country. Nevermind that we met a bunch of them at last year’s ping pong tournament at the ICPA conference in Anaheim, eh!
My presentation was going to be at 3pm on Monday, the first day of the conference. This was a prime spot because I couldn’t spend the whole conference worrying about my presentation but also afterward people would recognize me as the guy who presented on ‘know your customer’ and could more easily initiate conversations. ICPA is big enough so that there are five presentations going on at once giving everyone plenty of options to learn something. The lady presenting before me, the Global Trade Compliance Manager at Weatherford, an oil services company, was presenting on training, a subject I knew a lot about, to a packed house with people standing in the back. This was what I wanted to have happen to me. I wanted to be big-time within the trade compliance field and giving a presentation at ICPA wasn’t enough for me; I needed to be popular.
I wasn’t popular. Well, I was popular among the forty or so attendees at my presentation. My presentation was detailed and exactly what they were looking for; even my buddy from Dell was furiously taking notes. I did a good job presenting though I didn’t feel totally in my element, partially because I hadn’t totally memorized my slides but also because, due to the placement of the projector on a table and the screen in the corner of the room, I couldn’t move around as freely as I’d wanted. But I didn’t have the packed, standing-room-only crowd of 120-140 people I was hoping for. There were many intelligent questions and I used up one hour and fifteen minutes of the hour and a half I was allotted. I felt good but I didn’t have the elation that I’ve often felt after giving a great presentation.
Still, I’d accomplished my objectives. I’d given a presentation at what I feel is the best minute-for-minute trade compliance conference around. I’d put NI’s name up there with other much more well-known companies. I’d received a couple of good ideas in return that I could use to bolster NI’s compliance program. And, perhaps most importantly, I’d given a presentation that I would’ve killed to have heard three years ago, a presentation that many of my colleagues at other companies could use to say to their management something along the lines of “If podunk National Instruments is doing this we should too”.
As a side note, I did get several people come up to me later in the conference to talk about how much they learned from the presentation and requested some follow-up documents and such. One of them was the trade compliance manager for ITT, a major defense contractor who was assessed the largest fine to date for violating the Export Administration Regulations, a big fat $100 million fine for actively helping the Chinese government develop night-vision technology. I told him I’d used his company in some of my presentations before, eh! I’m sure he’s never heard that one before.
That night Barry and I were free, i.e. there were no vendors taking us out to dinner. Well, I had one offer but decided that I would prefer to lay low and catch up on my sleep. I rode the monorail around to Epcot, then came back and had a very, very crummy pizza (not quite Hungarian crummy but crummy nonetheless) at the café in the resort before watching Children of Men on the laptop in my room (fabulous movie). Afterward, I felt rested, refreshed and super-charged enough to check e-mail for an hour and then go to sleep around 11:30. Barry, on the other hand, went and rode roller coasters in the Magic Kingdom for five hours and went to bed at 12:30am.
The next day was uneventful at the conference. We were taken out to dinner, along with a bunch of other folks, to a Roy’s Hawaiian Fusion restaurant by one of our vendors. Being taken out for expensive dinners is always nice but you sometimes wonder if they couldn’t save some money and lower their prices. Then again, with so many vendors taking people out to eat, it’s like an arms race; no one wants to be the one who went chintzy on the meal. So we all get taken out to some very swank places. The dinners are also good places to meet other trade compliance people and get ideas but usually there are so many people it gets wayyyy too loud to be easily heard which drives me crazy but oh well. We were gone for almost five hours and when you’ve enjoyed being away that long it was a success.
The next day at the conference also went well. The last session finished at 2:30 so Barry and I walked back to the hotel lobby to wait for the Mickey’s Magical Express to show up. The resort allowed us to get our boarding passes and check our luggage right there which was quite convenient. We had an opportunity to share a cab with two ladies from another company but since the ride would cost $70 total I turned it down since our bus ride was already paid for. I’d put up with the videos again in order not to have to add any additional items to our expense reports.
We were dropped off at Orlando International Airport by good ‘ol Mickey. The airport is international because, get this, there are flights from Dublin, Glasgow, London, Amsterdam, Frankfort, Calgary, Winnipeg, Toronto, Montreal, Halifax, Sao Paulo and numerous Central American cities. How many of those flights would be around if it weren’t for Disney World? I’ll bet none.
For the flight to Houston Barry and I both had high seating numbers so I snagged a window in the fourth row of the plane, just in front of the wing which is where I love to be. My seatmate in the middle seat was Ural, a professor at Texas Southern University who was in town for a social work conference. He has the distinction of being the first person ever to be interested, along with me, about where we were in the air as we descended over Galveston Island and came up I-45 to land at Hobby Airport. If I have to fly into Houston, I much prefer Hobby as it’s smaller and more scenic to descend into.
A couple of hours later we caught our flight to Austin which was at least half full with people coming to SXSW. The flight was only 29 minutes and I always wonder why they bother to serve drinks on those short flights is beyond me. I didn’t order one out of principle, eh. I was sort of able to track where we were in the air though by the time I realized we’d hit Columbus and La Grange I’d thought we were still in the Houston suburbs, eh. An uneventful landing, getting our luggage, finding my car in the airport parking lot F and driving home and that was it. Next year: Phoenix, Arizona!
http://digbro.com/entry/index.cfm?user_id=5149&l=0&r=0&c_id=&getFl=1&fl_id=1
And on page 2, look who, under Exports, was going to give the presentation on ‘Know your customer, your customer’s end use and applicable end use restrictions’? Me, that’s who!! I was so excited.
The trip started out at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport which, last time I checked, claimed it had flights to more cities than San Antonio did. My co-worker Barry and I were going to take a Southwest flight direct to Orlando late in the afternoon. I didn’t realize until we were about to board that the reason about a third of the passengers were under the age of twelve was that it was the first weekend of Spring Break and everybody was headed to Disney World. Seriously, everybody, even the two adults I was scrunched in between on the last row of the plane. Barry and I were among the last to board and, having not been on a Southwest flight in a while, I wasn’t sure what the availability would be of a cherished window seat. Barry got on before me and took the first aisle seat he came upon, somewhere in the middle of the plane. I couldn’t tell what was open in the back and figured, what the heck, I’d go check it out and learn something. Well, what I learned is that if you’re one of the last people to get on the plane, get the first available middle seat you see, particularly if it is between two small or thin people. As it turned out, I got the middle seat on the very last row of the plane between a smallish lady and a guy who must have weighed at least 275 lbs. You could tell he’d gone to the back first so as to lessen his chances of having someone sit next to him. The feeling was mutual buddy, lemme tell ya. Southwest’s seats feel very small but I guess that’s what we pay for. Anyway, both of my seatmates were going to Disney World. The guy was actually going to meet his family who had driven all the way from Corpus Christi. The drive was supposed to only take two days but took three due to all the traffic they kept encountering and not just in big city rush hour. I told them I was going to Disney World for a conference and their response was to laugh at me, ha!
Yes, Southwest doesn’t charge for bags. But even without that, their tickets were the cheapest and gave us the best legs. No flying to Dallas, Atlanta, Chicago, etc. for us. It was about 2 hours and 20 minutes direct to Orlando and on the way back we would have a layover in Houston which is pretty much on the way as the crow flies anyway. I was disappointed though that the baggage handlers didn’t come out and wave at us while we were taxiing away from the terminal. Oh, and the flight attendants were boring. C’mon Southwest, you’re supposed to be fun to fly!
The flight was rather uneventful and we landed in quite windy weather in sunny Orlando. Feeling particularly thankful to be alive after a somewhat iffy landing, I led an impromptu round of applause for the pilots that sounded like it was only taken up by a few people in the back of the plane. I don’t care. I think we should applaud every time we land in high wind or low visibility. Of course, I was a bit emboldened by being in the very back so no one could see who was starting the clapping.
To get to the Contemporary Resort at Disney World, we were going to take Mickey’s Magical Express which is actually just a big metal-plated bus. Our driver was Fernando Rocha, a Cuban-looking guy whose English was decent but pronounced ‘firework’ as ‘fi-wer’ and was sometimes quite incomprehensible. We were bombarded the whole fifty-minute drive by video of Disney World attractions and random songs from old Disney films. The speaker directly above my seat was so loud I was tempted to go up to my buddy Fernando and ask him how to turn it off but I decided not to so that I didn’t ruin any little kid’s Disney experience.
One thing I noticed on the drive to Disney World is that, in many peoples’ backyards, they have swimming pools which are in a mesh-looking enclosure, presumably to keep out mosquitoes. They’re directly attached to the houses allowing for easy mosquito-free access. Seemed a bit ugly but definitely quite functional. That’s what you get when you build your city on a swamp I guess. As one guy put it during the conference, he couldn’t understand living in Florida if you weren’t by the ocean.
Fernando dropped off passengers at the Wilderness Lodge, the Grand Floridian (where porters were dressed in vintage-1920s get-ups including knee-high socks and white derby caps) and finally the Contemporary. Barry and I could’ve stayed someplace much cheaper outside of the park but that would have required us to either rent a car or take transportation for a half hour or more to get to the conference. Therefore, we used a little more of the company’s money to stay onsite. There are certainly also benefits to being able to immediately run back to your room to check your e-mail. And, since the Disney monorail runs right through it, it’s easy to catch it and get to the Magic Kingdom or Epcot Center.
That reminds me: I didn’t go inside any of the parks but it’s my professional opinion that the only difference between Disney World and more pedestrian theme parks is that Disney has a) better licensable characters and b) this weird thing about ‘magic’. Then again, I’m also 31 years old so maybe I should leave the magic to the kiddies.
Barry and I arrived at the resort around 7:30, too late to register for the conference and late enough for us to be fairly hungry (Little Debbie oatmeal creme pies are only so sustaining). We checked into the hotel, found our room on the 10th floor (though the room# was 4646...what makes Disney so special they can’t have the room# start with the number of the floor?) and then went to find the California Grill to eat dinner. The Grill was on the top floor of the resort (15th) and we wanted a good view of the 10pm fireworks over the Magic Kingdom. To get to the restaurant, you have to take a separate elevator from the second floor which has a sign next to it stating that business casual attire is required. We were wearing jeans but they let us through anyway. Upon arriving up top, we were asked if we had reservations. Reservations? Uh oh. No, we hadn’t. OK, that’s fine we were told. We could order off the menu while sitting at very small two-person tables (all of which were taken) or order at the bar. Fine, we’ll do the bar. It was then that the bartender, from Glasgow, Scotland, gave us the menu. Appetizers were $10-20 and entreés averaged around $35. Uh oh. Oh well...Barry and I didn’t know where else to go and what the heck, most of our other meals during the conference were taken care of. I still ordered only appetizers though as entreés in these expensive restaurants usually are much smaller than you need to actually fill yourself up. Call it the paradox of expensive dining. I don’t understand it either.
We were later informed that to have reserved a table we would’ve needed to have called six months ago. Wow.
We hung around long enough until, just before 10pm, we wandered out onto the balcony. The view was great but it was about 50 degrees, the wind was blowing and my jacket was in the room. Who’d think that the first time I’d be truly cold this winter would be in Orlando, Florida? Fireworks are nice but they’re not worth freezing your tail off so after about five minutes I bid Barry adieu and went back inside and went to sleep.
Now one interesting thing about this trip was that, being away from the Graham cracker, I would be able to sleep through the night unbothered. Thankfully Jennifer’s mom was staying with her while I was gone but I still felt a little guilty. I must’ve felt more guilty than I’d thought because I woke up three times during the night. Of course, each time I remembered that I didn’t have any diapers to change so I immediately went back to sleep.
The next morning Barry and I headed over to the Conference, a fun and productive affair consisting of about 600 of our fellows in trade compliance. A great many of them have been around each other long enough so that each ICPA conference is a reunion; Barry and I are getting to that point which makes each conference easier to attend. It really stinks to go somewhere and not recognize anybody but now not only did we know all the Austin people that were there (well, all three of them) but also a bunch of people from all over the country. Nevermind that we met a bunch of them at last year’s ping pong tournament at the ICPA conference in Anaheim, eh!
My presentation was going to be at 3pm on Monday, the first day of the conference. This was a prime spot because I couldn’t spend the whole conference worrying about my presentation but also afterward people would recognize me as the guy who presented on ‘know your customer’ and could more easily initiate conversations. ICPA is big enough so that there are five presentations going on at once giving everyone plenty of options to learn something. The lady presenting before me, the Global Trade Compliance Manager at Weatherford, an oil services company, was presenting on training, a subject I knew a lot about, to a packed house with people standing in the back. This was what I wanted to have happen to me. I wanted to be big-time within the trade compliance field and giving a presentation at ICPA wasn’t enough for me; I needed to be popular.
I wasn’t popular. Well, I was popular among the forty or so attendees at my presentation. My presentation was detailed and exactly what they were looking for; even my buddy from Dell was furiously taking notes. I did a good job presenting though I didn’t feel totally in my element, partially because I hadn’t totally memorized my slides but also because, due to the placement of the projector on a table and the screen in the corner of the room, I couldn’t move around as freely as I’d wanted. But I didn’t have the packed, standing-room-only crowd of 120-140 people I was hoping for. There were many intelligent questions and I used up one hour and fifteen minutes of the hour and a half I was allotted. I felt good but I didn’t have the elation that I’ve often felt after giving a great presentation.
Still, I’d accomplished my objectives. I’d given a presentation at what I feel is the best minute-for-minute trade compliance conference around. I’d put NI’s name up there with other much more well-known companies. I’d received a couple of good ideas in return that I could use to bolster NI’s compliance program. And, perhaps most importantly, I’d given a presentation that I would’ve killed to have heard three years ago, a presentation that many of my colleagues at other companies could use to say to their management something along the lines of “If podunk National Instruments is doing this we should too”.
As a side note, I did get several people come up to me later in the conference to talk about how much they learned from the presentation and requested some follow-up documents and such. One of them was the trade compliance manager for ITT, a major defense contractor who was assessed the largest fine to date for violating the Export Administration Regulations, a big fat $100 million fine for actively helping the Chinese government develop night-vision technology. I told him I’d used his company in some of my presentations before, eh! I’m sure he’s never heard that one before.
That night Barry and I were free, i.e. there were no vendors taking us out to dinner. Well, I had one offer but decided that I would prefer to lay low and catch up on my sleep. I rode the monorail around to Epcot, then came back and had a very, very crummy pizza (not quite Hungarian crummy but crummy nonetheless) at the café in the resort before watching Children of Men on the laptop in my room (fabulous movie). Afterward, I felt rested, refreshed and super-charged enough to check e-mail for an hour and then go to sleep around 11:30. Barry, on the other hand, went and rode roller coasters in the Magic Kingdom for five hours and went to bed at 12:30am.
The next day was uneventful at the conference. We were taken out to dinner, along with a bunch of other folks, to a Roy’s Hawaiian Fusion restaurant by one of our vendors. Being taken out for expensive dinners is always nice but you sometimes wonder if they couldn’t save some money and lower their prices. Then again, with so many vendors taking people out to eat, it’s like an arms race; no one wants to be the one who went chintzy on the meal. So we all get taken out to some very swank places. The dinners are also good places to meet other trade compliance people and get ideas but usually there are so many people it gets wayyyy too loud to be easily heard which drives me crazy but oh well. We were gone for almost five hours and when you’ve enjoyed being away that long it was a success.
The next day at the conference also went well. The last session finished at 2:30 so Barry and I walked back to the hotel lobby to wait for the Mickey’s Magical Express to show up. The resort allowed us to get our boarding passes and check our luggage right there which was quite convenient. We had an opportunity to share a cab with two ladies from another company but since the ride would cost $70 total I turned it down since our bus ride was already paid for. I’d put up with the videos again in order not to have to add any additional items to our expense reports.
We were dropped off at Orlando International Airport by good ‘ol Mickey. The airport is international because, get this, there are flights from Dublin, Glasgow, London, Amsterdam, Frankfort, Calgary, Winnipeg, Toronto, Montreal, Halifax, Sao Paulo and numerous Central American cities. How many of those flights would be around if it weren’t for Disney World? I’ll bet none.
For the flight to Houston Barry and I both had high seating numbers so I snagged a window in the fourth row of the plane, just in front of the wing which is where I love to be. My seatmate in the middle seat was Ural, a professor at Texas Southern University who was in town for a social work conference. He has the distinction of being the first person ever to be interested, along with me, about where we were in the air as we descended over Galveston Island and came up I-45 to land at Hobby Airport. If I have to fly into Houston, I much prefer Hobby as it’s smaller and more scenic to descend into.
A couple of hours later we caught our flight to Austin which was at least half full with people coming to SXSW. The flight was only 29 minutes and I always wonder why they bother to serve drinks on those short flights is beyond me. I didn’t order one out of principle, eh. I was sort of able to track where we were in the air though by the time I realized we’d hit Columbus and La Grange I’d thought we were still in the Houston suburbs, eh. An uneventful landing, getting our luggage, finding my car in the airport parking lot F and driving home and that was it. Next year: Phoenix, Arizona!
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