Travel: experiencing vs. remembering

Inevitably, some of the comments left on this blog are spam -- various companies or individuals trying to promote their wares. I suppose I should consider myself lucky - spam could get much worse than that. Besides, I could take it as a compliment: these spammers seem to think that my blog is so popular, that their message might reach lots of potential clients!

Today's spam-comment was slightly more oblique. It went as follows:

Most travel is best of all in the anticipation or the remembering; the reality has more to do with losing your luggage.
Flights to Dingaling
Cheap Flights to Dingaling
Cheap Air Tickets to Dingaling

With the hyperlinks pointing to some travel agency, say DingDong Travel Bureau.

- Ooh, I thought to myself, that's a negative attitude to take towards foreign travel! But then I realized that the punchline was the bit about losing your luggage. "Book your ticket with DingDong," it seemed to say, "and we'll give you a really good deal on luggage insurance!"

Well, I have two comments to make:
First of all, I have been traveling for many years and have never actually lost my luggage. In three cases (over scores of years) my luggage lagged behind me, as it were, when I had a tight connection. It arrived a bit late, but it arrived safely. Which doesn't mean I neglect to issue proper insurance before each trip.

Second, the statement about anticipation and remembering has some validity to it, or at least the first half does.
Only recently I finished reading a chapter called "Two Selves" in Daniel Kahneman's excellent book Thinking, fast and slow. This chapter deals with the concepts of the experiencing self and the remembering self. "Confusing experience with memory of it is a compelling cognitive illusion," says Kahneman (p. 381), and continues to elaborate on the subject.

So yes, much of the emotional value of the trip is in your memories, which you can relive, aided by photos, notes, blogs and conversations with your fellow-travelers, if any. And if you suffered the misfortune of a bad experience towards the end of your trip, it has doubtlessly colored your entire memory of the trip, even if most of it was enjoyable.

But, applying the same logic, if you lost your luggage early on in the trip, but the luggage was later retrieved, or you got very prompt and generous compensation that enabled you to continue the trip complete with a spanking new suitcase, stylish jeans, quality toiletries and a new laptop and camera -- and if the rest of the trip was terrific -- then your memories will be terrific, too. Lost luggage? Who cares!

So, thank you, Ms. X from Down Under, for giving me this idea for a blog post.
I hope all travelers take out travel insurance, and I wish you all safe landings and wonderful, memorable trips.
Oh, and do read Daniel Kahneman -- both enjoyable and enlightening.

Valencia - first impressions

“Valencia? What’s that? Never heard of it. I thought you said Venezia,” said my hairdresser, who was hopefully giving me that wash-and-wear haircut I value so much on trips.

As my daughter pointed out, I value Ari for his hairstyling skills and pleasant manners, not for his geographical expertise or insights. When he travels, Ari never goes to the same place twice. He’s of the been-there, done-that persuasion, and wants to see as much of this planet as he can.

And so we reached Madrid airport and wended our way through generic airport passageways to Terminal 4, gate K96, at the very edge of the universe – sorry, of the airport -- to await our flight to Valencia:

Madrid: An airport is an airport is an airport. 

Landed in Valencia. Walked down to the metro station, checked which stop to get off at – Xativa – and walked down the road to number 9, Plaza del Ayuntamiento:

Beautiful Plaza del Ayuntamiento, Valencia

The entrance to "our" building

Yep, I think I could easily get used to living in the center of Valencia! Despite the city noise, which is no worse than the noise in my daughter’s apartment in the center of Tel Aviv. And when the windows are tightly closed, the noise is much less noticeable. Oh, and being on a higher floor obviously helps, too. Fourth floor was fine, fifth or sixth are probably even better.

Since this specific apartment was obviously refurbished, arranged and furnished with tourist rental in mind, it’s a bit lifeless and devoid of character, unlike some of the apartments offered on Airbnb, which have a very unique, lived-in nature. One of them especially appealed to me in terms of its charm, but it was so full of photos, wall hangings, knickknacks and doodads that I wondered how the owner could bear to put her precious things in the hands of total strangers on a regular basis. Aren’t guests tempted to touch, feel, possibly dropping, breaking or tearing in the process? I’d have to ask the landlady.

Adding our personal mess to the rented apt.

If we were renting the apt for any length of time, rather than three nights, we’d probably endow it with a bit of our mess and personality (see photo. Yes, that's a mural decorating the living room wall.)

Though of course you can’t go so far as to hammer nails into the wall. And, talking of nails, that’s what was missing in this otherwise perfect apartment: A few hooks, towel racks, and such things on which to hang the hand-towel in the bathroom, your dressing gown, handbag, etc. The towel rack opposite the shower stall was so high that I’d need the stepladder to reach it. I mentioned these minor shortcomings in an email to the owner, and truly hope he does something about it, for the sake of future tourists.

Other than that, as I said, the place is perfect. Kitchen with everything you need for either a light meal or serious cooking; a spacious dining table, comfortable sofa, and so on.

Most important for us was the central location. Just take the elevator downstairs and walk out in any direction – you’re smack in the center of town, with friendly Tourist Information kiosk, shopping, eating, entertainment, antiques, city bikes for rent, all within walking distance.  And walk we did. And walk. And then walked some more.

A propos walking: It’s very easy to tell the locals from the tourists, and not only by the cameras, maps and backpacks they carry. It’s the clothes. To the natives, end-of-October spells Beginning-of-Winter, and they dress warmly with scarves and jackets. To many tourists, coming from colder climes, 17 deg C is still summer, and many girls are in shorts and flip-flops.

Recommended taberna: La Coveta, Calle de Vallanca. Intimate side-street, good food, pleasant service:

La Coveta is on the left

La Coveta menu

 Recommended tapas bar: Lizarran, a chain I enjoyed in Salamanca back in 2002. A huge selection of appetizing, delicious tapas.

Warning: Beware of local sangria. It may not be what you think.

Amazing site: Ciudad de las artes y las ciencias, Valencia

- to be continued -

Notice to Prospective Burglars

Posted on the eve of our departure abroad:

The short version: Don’t bother. You’ve taken everything of value on your previous break-in.

The longer version:

Well, if you insist… if you’ve already gone to all the trouble and risked being observed by curious neighbors, let me give you a few pointers:

1. Don’t assume the house is empty just because you heard we’re abroad, or because the car is dirty and hasn’t been moved in days. Re car – it’s nearly always dirty; and it doesn’t get moved in days because, as old-age pensioners, the bus is so much cheaper. Re empty – we’ve hired the services of an out-of-work Russian mafia thug to check in from time to time. He needed a place to lay his weary head. But he’s not so weary that he won’t wake up when you break in. He’s pretty nasty but he owes us a favor.  You really don’t want to meet him.  Oh, and when he’s not around, our son or daughter or cleaning lady or her sister might be using the apartment.  And the next-door neighbor is also permitted to let herself in when she needs a cup of sugar for baking or if her toilet is clogged up and the plumber is late.

2. Say you’ve overcome all these hurdles, you’re in, and you’ve started snooping around:

         i.                        I told you: you, or one of your ilk, has already taken my good jewellery last time, and I didn’t replace any of it, even though I got a few shekels from the insurance. How could I possibly replace the braided, 3-colored gold necklace that used to belong to my dead sister? Or the one-of-kind silver pendant, designed by an unknown artist, that my husband bought me over 30 years ago? For shame! I hope you are deeply ashamed of yourself.

       ii.                        Anything with pearls is fake.

      iii.                        I’ve taken my (new) laptop with me, as well as my iPhone, Kindle and camera. So there are no nifty electronic devices to steal. My PC monitor is okay, I guess, but a bit clumsy to carry.

     iv.                        The Degas (pl.) hanging on the walls of my study and bedroom are cheap reproductions. Like, really cheap; probably torn out of a magazine before being framed locally. As for the real, signed lithograph over the sofa, the one of the running bulls – be my guest, take it; I’m tired of it anyway.

       v.                        The silver is clunky, and you’ll have trouble selling it: no one wants that kind of stuff anymore; they’d rather buy kitchenware at Ikea.

     vi.                        Oh, and if you want to show your girlfriend how thoughtful you are, look in the left-hand door of the bathroom cabinet under the sink and take the unopened bottle of Jean Naté after bath splash – it doesn’t agree with me.

    vii.                        One last warning: In one of our more appealing objects d’art there’s an implanted microchip. If you happen to nick that one item, you’re done for. You will be tracked and arrested in no time. Oh, you don’t believe me? Never mind, it was worth a try :-)

Is this a good time to travel to Spain?

It’s a fait accompli: we’re going to Spain. Yes, I’ve read about angry Spaniards protesting over the rotten economic situation. And I certainly don’t want to get involved. I haven’t even gotten involved in local (Israeli) demonstrations over the cost of living and so on. Besides – by spending my money, in euros, in Spain, I’m contributing to their economy. So I’m one of the good guys, right?

So the long and the short of it is, we’re flying to Madrid, carrying on to Valencia, stopping there for a few days, in a conveniently located apartment we found on Airbnb, then picking up a rented car and driving south along the coast.

As my readers already know, we don’t just call the last-minute flights company Daka-90  (sorry it’s only in Hebrew), but plan each trip thoroughly in advance: Hubby researches stuff on the Internet, in Michelin and other guides; while I research my wardrobe and break my head over which tops/bottoms/shoes/socks etc to pack, and explore my library to decide which book to take with. Not to mention which face cream, which bag, and so on.

This time, there are two important variables that have varied, or deviated, from the routine:

1. Books. As you know, I am now the proud owner of kindaleh, a.k.a. Kindle Touch 3G . I can take with me three thousand books and not feel it at all. Or at least feel all 215 gr of it. In fact, I now have too much to choose from. Last time we were in Spain, in October 2002, I was reading Tolkien’s The Two Towers, and was just as involved with the fate of Pippin and Merry (who had just escaped the Orcs and were about to  enter the forest of Ents) as I was in the fate of Spain, past and present.

2. During that 2002 trip (2 weeks in Spain & Portugal) I kept a travel journal, like I’ve been doing for years on every trip. So now I could consult my notebook, refresh my memory, and make a note of a few things to pay attention to this time around.

Here are a few select insights from that travel journal:

1. The coffee was good
2. The shrimp were delicious.
3. The salads were awful; most restaurants, cafes etc couldn’t for the life of them put together a decent salad.
4. Meals were between 30 (at a taverna) to 50 (in the hotel) euro.
5. When you’re driving in the mountains, take into account that low clouds can make visibility very poor.
6. Where the speed limit is marked as 80 kmh (50 mph), you can count on locals to drive at 110 at least.
7. Getting off a highway and trying to find your way to your hotel or your hosts can be very tricky. Whether it was Cordoba, Sevilla or Granada, we went round and round in circles until we got it right.
8. Ten years ago, everybody smoked, everywhere. But they were polite about not blowing the smoke in your face, if you asked them (in pantomime; don’t know how to say it Spanish.)
9. My French, Spanish and Italian got mixed-but-not-matched in my head, making it difficult for me to find the right word. However, I got one thing right: It’s cervesa in Spanish. As opposed to birra in Italian & Greek, bière in French, pivo in Slovenian, and something unpronounceable, though vaguely familiar, in Thai and in Chinese. Travel is so mind-broadening.

Hope to be able to tell you more once we get there.

Tips before a trip to China, #3 - Food

“What did you eat in China?” Friends ask me.

Er, Chinese food?...

Well, not exactly. That is to say, not what the average Westerner is used to having at his local Chinese restaurant, be it in New York, London or Tel Aviv. Our travel agency, Oriental Travel, assures its clients that they do not take them, (or us, in this case) to restaurants catering especially to Western tourists and thus offering a commercially-westernized version of Chinese food. Rather, it attempted to take us to places where Chinese tourists – of which there are millions – eat. Indeed, some of the restaurants we were taken to were huge, built to cater to hundreds of people at the same time. That’s because, in the height of the tourist season, hundreds of people eat there at the same time. The size of China is hard to grasp and get used to. Everything is on a huge scale: huge cities, huge office buildings, huge residential apartment blocks, huge flyovers, huge traffic jams and huge restaurants to accommodate a huge number of diners.

If you’re a fussy eater, have special dietary needs, or insist on kosher/vegetarian/vegan/organic food, you’re in trouble. Either reconsider your plans and travel elsewhere; or shut your eyes and just eat. I wouldn’t recommend schlepping tinned food and crackers from home, wherever home is. And I wouldn’t recommend relying on local produce and supermarket food, because you probably won’t know what to buy and how much to pay. Remember – all the labels will be Greek to you (unless you’re Greek, of course, ha-ha, groan). 

Dizzying decor at the dining room of the Crowne Plaza Chengdu Panda Garden

For us, breakfast was the easiest meal to navigate. We stayed at top hotels: The Crowne Plaza Beijing, the Crowne Plaza at Chengdu Panda Garden, The Garden Hotel in Suzhou, the Green Lotus Hotel in Yangshuo, the Guilin Bravo Hotel in Guilin, Day’s Inn in Xi’an, the Mercure in Shanghai, and of course the floating dining room of the Century Sun. Some of these were more sumptuous than others in décor and amenities, but all offered a decent buffet breakfast. I’d say at least 60 or 70 percent of the food was aimed at Chinese tourists, and comprised what to the Western tourist seemed like a full dinner: all sorts of cooked dishes, including soup, vegetables, meat, and unidentified doughy-looking things. Then on the other side of the dining room were the Western-style dishes: bacon and eggs, bread, butter, marge, yogurt, muesli, branflakes, cornflakes, fresh fruit, tinned fruit, a token platter of hard cheese, and would-be baked goods in the shape of croissants, cupcakes, and other baked goods. So far, so good?

Misleadingly pretty pastries at Chengdu Panda Garden Crowne Plaza

Ahem. Things aren’t always what they seem to be. I believe the bacon-and-eggs were fairly bona fide; and the fresh pineapple was delicious. But many of the other items were slightly disappointing. They looked the part, but didn’t taste the part. You took one bite of a cupcake or Danish, and more-likely-than-not left the rest on your plate. As for the coffee and tea – Unspeakable. “What?! “ You say in disbelief, “The TEA in CHINA is not nice? How can that be?” Well, that’s just it. Of all the places in the world, you expect China to have aromatic Chinese tea. Instead, you are served either nondescript teabag tea, or a pale brew tasting like boiled barley. As for the coffee – I find hotel coffee lousy everywhere, so at least it wasn’t a big surprise or let-down. 

Lunch and dinner: On the whole, enough dishes were served at every meal, so that no one left the table hungry. If you didn’t trust the suspicious-looking blobs of meat, you liked the chicken; if you didn’t like the spicy soup, you could have the bland soup with noodles; we all liked the steamed or boiled green veggies; and we all gorged ourselves on the dumplings at the Dumpling Banquet at Defangchag Restaurant in Xi’an. 

Hot pot dinner; notice the pots in front of Colin & Susan

One of the more unique meals was the hot-pot, where each person is served a pot of either very spicy or mild soup (or half a portion of each in the same, partitioned pot), kept a-boiling on a hot-plate; and a platter of thinly sliced raw meat of various kinds, which you plonk into your boiling soup:  Nearby there was a big selection of sauces. Pity we had no way of knowing which was what. “Just smell them,” said Julia, our 14-year-old-looking guide.

Enough about food; don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry. (But you can see a few more related pics below).

Restaurant-in-an-indoor-garden, Yichang

Enjoying the hot-pot meal. Didn't think to ask whether the aprons were mandatory.

Or you could rely on old, familiar fare: Jane's Pub in Suzhou: Manchester City vs. QPR  on TV and beer:

Jane's Pub Bar, Suzhou

Jane's Pub Bar, Suzhou

 Starbucks in the Old Quarter of Shanghai: Coffee was fine, when you managed to get to the front of the line at the tiny place; but even a simple sandwich with a familiar name, say bacon-lettuce-tomato, has an added local sauce that gives it a distinctly Chinese flavor. Caveat emptor.

Starbucks in Shaghai Old Quarter & Tourist Trap.

(No idea who the people in the pic are; just tired wayfarers like ourselves.)