Year: 2009

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10 Things About Sao Paulo

Sao Paulo’s a cool place. I expected a dirty, rough sprawl. What I got was a friendly, wealthy, tres moderne high-rise bustling metropolis. Go.

  1. In the main, Sao Paulo is not a cheap city
  2. For all I know I could have been flown to any southern European city
  3. Us locals refer to Sao Paulo as Sampa
  4. Sao Paulo lies just on the Tropic of Capricorn. That’s actually quite far south
  5. c.1.4 million Japanese live in the state of Sao Paulo, the largest population of Japanese outside of Japan
  6. I have never had as much sushi as I had in my 3 weeks in Sao Paulo. Eat as much as you like for c.£10
  7. If you’re served a thimble-full of weak beer with more than half the vessel containing froth, it’s probably Chopp, it may be refreshing on a hot day but really, the stuff is piss
  8. Hippest place I visited: the Sky bar atop the equally cool Unique (oo-nee-key) hotel. Have some Caiparinhas up there and enjoy that view. Best cityscape I’ve ever seen
  9. People from Sampa are known as Paulistanos, people from the wider state are called Paulistas
  10. Couples regularly CANOODLE in the STREET. I mean they really go for it!

Obrigado

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Lone Star State

Two weeks in Houston.

These guys (yes, all Americans) have security issues. Walking into the airport we were warned over the tannoy that “Any inappropriate remarks or jokes at security may result in your arrest.” I love a red rag more than the next man so waited behind the yellow line, acting as sensibly as ever. The border security officer nodded for me to step forward. I did so, handed over my passport and glared at him like I meant business. He glared back. He meant business too. I glared harder. He glared harder. We both glared harder still. “What is your purpose in this country?” he said cooly whilst removing his Rayban Aviators. “What is your purpose in this country?” I said cooly whilst removing my symmetrically appropriate Rayban Aviators. “You messin’ with me?” he said, clearly agitated. “You messin’ wid me?” I retorted in my best Brooklyn. He nodded to his compatriate, the one with a side-arm hanging off his waist, who swaggered over and without saying a word, cuffed me and led me away. I’ll stop there as none of that is true apart from the line over the tannoy. The jumped up little fascists.

Anyway… Had the first Sunday off so hired a car and drove over to the Johnson Space Center – worth a visit. Drove on down to Galveston (oh Galveston), not worth a visit since it got hit by Ike, the storm which you heard about but not a lot maybe since Lehman Bros collapse and news of the world’s financial mess around that time. After stuffing our faces on the largest crab legs I’ve ever seen at Joe’s Crab Shack in a nice little coastal town called Kemah we drove on back to Houston. Only when we were nearing Houston we realized we’d been driving adjacent to one or two mothers of an oil field/refinery for a majority of the 40 odd miles from the coast. About 40 miles long I said. These people know how to consume.

Went to see the ball game one midweek evening at the Minute Maid stadium, Houston Astros vs Philadelphia Pirates. Great stuff. Very crowd-centric, although the TV commercial ad breaks were a tad lame. Since I’ve been back home I’ve been receiving NRA spam that just won’t quit. I think it must be due to a form I filled in at the baseball game so that I could get me a free Astros teatowel. Sons of guns.

A few things Texas has got right:

  • Jalapenos with most meals
  • Buffalo wings
  • ‘The Flying Saucer’ pub on Main Street, downtown Houston. Loads of bitters, IPAs and porters from around the world

A few things they’ve got wrong:

  • Consumption
  • Comparing healthcare reform to some form of socialism
  • And their clinical fear of communism

At the airport before my flight home:

Waiter: What can I get you?
Me: Could I have the Buffalo shrimp please.
Waiter: Awesome.
Me: Really? I mean was what I just ordered actually genuinely awesome, was it?

I didn’t say any of that last bit either, but I definitely thought it.

Best bumper sticker: “I love concrete”.

But otherwise it was hotel-work-hotel-work. Houston’s a big old town though, 4th biggest in the states. Looking down from the hotel window, I was thinking how we’re all just ants. Drones going about our business. This country in particular though seems to have it fairly well operational. I know you know but the place really is a powerhouse. So I left the Hyatt in downtown Houston where a Corrosion Conference was in full swing, picked up some cowboy paraphernalia on the way to the airport and flew home to my girls.

Next up: Sao Paulo

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Bordeaux, en francais

Bonjour.

Pardonnez-moi pour mon francais terrible (seulement huit ans de salle de class francais dans mon ecole), mais ici est mon petit blog post de mon semaine et demie en Bordeaux, dernier mois.

Bordeaux est un tres attractivement ville. Les batiments sont tres tres magnifique. La ville il a que certains ‘I don’t know what’ comme ils dit en Angleterre.

Je pense que Les Français connais leur oignons avec les repas. Pour exemple: pour petit dejeuner j’ai un pain au chocolat (ou deux), un cafe au lait et du jus d’orange tous les jours, simple mais agreable, non? Pour les autres repas j’ai a manger: du lapin, du canard, du fromage, du foie gras et un petit peu du vin… parfait.

J’étais là pour le feu d’artifice sur le soir de Bastille jour. Mais il est tres estrange, tout les personnes est reste tres calme et tranquille. Le merde bizarre.

Un observation: Il ya beaucoup des personnes en France avec les nez grande. Je pense à moi-même “d’où viens-tu, nez ville?”

Et aussi un autre observation, il  y a beaucoup des madamoiselles qui marcher autour le ville avec pas de brassiere! Oui! A la Charlie Dimmock! Zut alors.

Merci beaucoup, c’est tout pour maintenant.

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Trinidad & Tobago

Got back from TT/T&T/T’n’T/Trini/Trinidad and Tobago, Port of Spain quite a while back now but finding less and less time to get things up online. Best trip of the contract so far. Was looked after very well by the good people at the High Commission. Thank you to everyone there who made me feel as welcome as I did.

I was feeling pretty darn smug making my way over to Trinidad. What with me giving it a departure lounge here and and a rooftop pool there, I was Lord-Bleeding-Muck himself. Fortunately for you and me, I was brought back down quicksmart. At the end of the first week there, I was told to take time off in lieu for three days whilst waiting for kit to arrive. Being stuck out here and being told something like that is hard to take. So I had the few days off, hired a motor and and found myself cruising along in an automobile. Firstly around the top third of Trinidad then over to Tobago for a quick round-the-island trip. Was taking in the beautiful scenery along Trinidad’s northcoast when all of a sudden cnk-cnk-cnk. Eyup, this is more me. Yep, Scroogemeister Jimminy McSprattmeister went for the old Econo-rental option. £15/day you say? Nissan Sunny with no radio? Where the fuck do I sign? So I found myself sat looking out across Las Cuevas Bay waiting. I waited for more than four hours for a breakdown truck to come tow that heap of junk away from me. Could be worse places to be stuck.

Caught a ferry over to Tobago. (Now call me precious but during that journey I had to move seat due to being surrounded with a grolly-excavating skknorrggghht. I genuinely don’t understand it when someone appears to have the rest of their manners sorted and then they go and miss out on something as basic as that. I used to work with a Frenchman who would do that. Not a hint of shame on his coincidentally froglike face. “Snooorrrrrt. Snooorrrrrt.” JESUS CHRISTIE, SHUT THE FUCK UP, I’m trying not to work here.) Anyway, I was saying…

Realised I was fast running out of time on Tobago and had heard that Nylon Pool was worth checking out. So I took a jetski out to sea, jumped on a boat then sailed over to this place. It’s a sandbank a few miles offshore. The boat stopped, I donned some snorkeling gear and jumped in. Now, I’d always considered snorkeling a little Mickey Mouse compared to SCUBA but after this experience it must be equally as good as there’s only so much depth you can get to before your lug’oles can’t take no more anyway, and just like pushchairs all that kit surely gets in the way a little. Fish and coral of all shapes and colours and I got to swim with some rays -amazing stuff. T or T would be an excellent place to have done my PADI, with a few more days and few more dollars.

Had a small problem grasping the accent with certain people. “I’m terribly sorry my good man but I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re banging on about.” You know that situation where you can’t say “pardon?” or “I’m sorry?” anymore otherwise you just look like a bit of a nobber.

I won’t mention the work side of life on these entries. 1. for fear of being dooced, 2. because I know how a little openness can go a wrong way. But things didn’t go as smoothly as they should have. That is all I shall say on the matter.

My time in T&T in a nutshell: the Hyatt, St Clair, St.James, Maracas, Sylibiah, Leatherback turtles dropping their eggs at the beach under a moonlit sky, Tobago round trip, colleague being pickpocketted right next to me, Scarborough (avoid), Crown Point, Argyle Falls (best three level cascading waterfall I’ve ever been to), calypsonians,Red Ibis, Blue Heron, Doubles, Roti, Bake and Shark, hot pepper sauces, asking directions from a guy with six dogs and a machete (nicest guy I ever met), early morning walks up the hill overlooking the city, James, Tom, Andrea, Beena, Shashank, Ariapita Avenue, Thirstday, Jenny’s, Movie Towne and Brian Lara Boulevard.

Trini marketing for Stag beer:

“A Man’s Beer…conveys strength, individualism and masculinity…”

Righto.

the Hyatt,
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Belgrade

I didn’t get round to passing comment on Belgrade yet. I liked Belgrade, what I saw of it. IMHO any city on the water AND built on hills is pretty much already half way there.

There was one particular street, who’s name very helpfully I cannot remember, but if you are ever in town I do suggest you go. Think it begins with C, but that could be their C, so an S between you and me. Then again it might not. Think it ends in ‘ska’, which again narrows it down considerably for Belgrade. Cobbles leading down a gentle slope; al fresco dining; lots of Serbians playing their folk ditties, and good fodder to boot. Actually now I describe it, it sounds like the perfect tourist trap, well maybe it is and maybe we were tourist-trapped but it was nice, really it was. I couldn’t grasp any distinct Serbian food out there but then as a Brit we haven’t got a lot to make our mark about, other than roast beef I guess, and roast chicken, and roast pork, and roast lamb. I do like a bit of lamb, me. Never been massive on mint sauce though.

One thing I found clever was how the main road comes sweeping over a bridge directly into town. Like the M4 going in as far as Hyde Park Corner. The place was a lot more western, a bit more with it than Sofia. Not saying this as being better or worse (it’s better), merely an observation.

Look, the truth of the matter is that I haven’t got a great deal to say about the place as it was mostly either work or the hotel. Seems I just have some compulsion now to annotate wherever I go. Timewaster.