Category: TRAVEL (Page 32 of 45)

As most people know, extensive travel really disrupts a routine. This has been the story of our lives these past few weeks. Flight from Portland to SF to Tokyo to Bangkok to Phuket to Seoul to SF to Portland to Chicago to Dallas and full-circle to Portland have screwed-up our internal clocks. Fortunately we’re in the digital age so at least my watch always adjusts automatically. In two more weeks it will be additional flying time from Portland to Kapalua to Portland to LaGuardia and back to Portland. That does not include rental cars, Uber, taxis, walking, shuttles, and personal auto mileage that will have also gotten us to the cities of Rochester, Wailea, Lahaina, Argos, Portage, and McMinnville. We will have slept in 8 different beds or not at all! Not to mention, all the various restaurants that we’ve visited, spanning 20 different time zones.

There will not be enough time to get back into a routine during our brief pit stops at home to do laundry. The pets will start to view us as strangers in our own home. Today, we got up at 5a CST and will arrive home at 3p PST. We’ll unpack, sort the mail, load up the washing machine, and walk the dogs, before our 7p bedtime. In the morning at 6a, I’ll run my regular neighborhood 5k course and my wife will reluctantly return to work. Errands, fundraisers, and our wedding anniversary weekend in wine country will quickly move us into next week. 12 days later we’ll be on a plane to Hawaii and lodging at two different resorts. New York City and Broadway Shows will be next on the agenda.

Napping on planes has so far not agreed with me, and today is no exception. I have wide shoulders so I’m constantly bumped into with my aisle seat, and can’t get comfortable in the middle. It was not a direct flight, with the hour layover in Dallas. My “white diet” regimen has been all too often violated, and I’m sure the scale will not be kind. My running schedule has also been inconsistent with too many one-mile minimums and not enough 3.1 mile norms. In addition, American and United Airlines have relatively archaic video systems and no convenient seat-back monitors, so watching movies is not a simple option. Besides, I think I’ve seen all the popular ones, after hours and hours of passenger butt. It does give me time to write in this blog and construct poetic passages. I don’t like getting my laptop out on these flights because it makes me feel even more claustrophobic, so I use the Notebook app on my phone, enabling me to easily transfer my ramblings to the computer at my ever-changing desk.

You have only so many days of life, so long ones should be a plus. Even in retirement, I have not yet lost that tendency to move on to the next. We do get back the three hours we lost on the way East, so today will be 27 hours long, with little sleep. My eyes feel heavy like the rest of me, but they won’t close. Too much chocolate and Diet Coke, two bad habits that I’m better able to control when I finally arrive home and get into a boring but blissful routine. Homebody Haven.

As my solo afternoon in Chicago unfolded, the Communications Museum was closed for renovations, but Harry Caray’s turned out to be more than just a martini and sports memorabilia haven. I spent some time in Nitti’s Vault, hidden in the basement of the bar, learning all about Chicagoland mobsters. (See Post #907). I then met my wife for a quick tour at the Chicago Cultural Center involving an interesting display on the Chicago movie and musical. We then headed over to the Chicago Art Institute to see the Rembrandt showing, plus the regular attractions of Seurat’s Sunday in the Park with George (even though it was actually Friday), and Grant Wood’s American Gothic. Speaking of parks, we did pass through Millennium on the way for a quick glimpse of the “Giant Bean.”

Dinner was at Chicago Cut Steakhouse as planned to celebrate the end of my wife’s work week. I think that both my wife and I were surprised to find out that Rembrandt was the artist’s first name, putting him in that exclusive class of one-name-fame like Prince, Cher, and Madonna. It’s actually Rembrandt van Rijn, that we might have learned on our trip to Amsterdam if we had stayed longer than 16-hours and were dressed for unexpected freezing temperatures. Apparently, he’s best known for painting self portraits, but there were only four of his works on display. The promotion of the exhibit was therefore a tad bit misrepresented.

We both had experienced a couple of restless nights of sleep, adjusting to another two time zones, especially after still recovering from our Thailand adventure. As the great band Chicago Transit Authority asks – “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?” Day and time was certainly very confusing for both of us, as we prepared to lose another hour driving into Indiana on Sunday. In the meantime, there was a controversial Cubs loss to the Angels in the bottom of the ninth and dinner at Nonnina. This required some last-minute scrambling, as our reservation at pricey Blackbird turned out to be a bust. They were obviously overbooked and tried to seat us at the bar, so we gladly moved on. Dinner guests were definitely packed-in like sardines, so we left in an appropriate huff. I was certainly happier with the Italian alternative, and we had a cushy booth rather than bar stools.

We woke up Sunday morning to slush and snow, as I chose to use the treadmill to fulfill my daily mile quota. It was no sunny day in the park, with or without George! We picked up the rental car at Hertz after a free hot breakfast at the hotel. Following several hours of windshield wiper slapping, we had arrived at the assisted living center that houses my 97-year old mother-in-law. She’s always glad for company, and anxious for some Kentucky Fried Chicken to replace her institutionalized dinner. It continued to rain and snow throughout the day, but at least I got to watch the last few holes of The Masters and Tiger’s epic victory. I also got to see the end of the Trailblazer Game 1 victory over the favored Thunder. It’s supposed to get warmer tomorrow, so maybe Monday in the park will be better?

On our trip to Tucson earlier this year, we stumbled upon some John Dillinger history. (See Post #845). Hoosier-born Dillinger was classified as a gangster not a mobster, but they all seemed to gravitate to the big city. As I wandered around Chicago on my own, my first stop was at Harry Caray’s Italian Steakhouse at their River North location for a martini. I’ve been there dozens of times but mostly for the sports memorabilia that are part of the decor. I was surprised to find out that the building itself was once owned by the Carravetta family, whose daughter was married to mobster Frank Nitti (really Nitto). Nitti was known as “The Enforcer,” and one of Al Capone’s top lieutenants. The Nitti family lived in an apartment just above the space the current restaurant occupies on the fourth floor. Plus, just below the bar, a secret room was discovered in 1998. It allowed me to step back in time to mobster-life a hundred years ago.

If you go down the stairs from the bar, there’s a goldmine of artifacts including a address book containing contact information for numerous alleged Chicago gangsters, a three-door safe from the early 1900s, escape tunnels, secret rooms, original newspaper articles and photographs depicting the crimes of Chicago gangsters. It was just another bit of gangster history that I’ve happened upon this year as a rambling retiree. Frank Natti eventually took over the Capone empire once Al was convicted of tax evasion in 1931. Both apparently served time for the crime, but Natti got out much sooner.

Upstairs from the bar is Natti’s Speakeasy, where a bookcase button gets you into a secret entertainment area finished in 20’s era decor. To add to the whole Natti mobster legend, his ghost complete with a fedora apparently haunts the building. Frank Natti shot himself in 1943 on the day before he was to appear before a grand jury on extortion charges related to the Hollywood film industry. Al Capone and Frank Natti were childhood acquaintances from a Brooklyn neighborhood that were reunited through mob boss “Papa” Johnny Torrio. Capone, known also as “Scarface,” was released from Alcatraz in 1939 but spent most of his remaining years in hospitals, eventually dying of heart failure early in 1947. Fellow gangster Dillinger died in front of Chicago’s Biograph Theater after watching the Mickey Rooney, Clark Gable movie, “Manhatten Melodrama,” about fictional gangsters.

To add even more to the Frank Natti story, he had a narrow escape from death the year after he took over from Capone when Chicago police detective Harry Lang claimed that he fired on Natti in self-defense. It purportedly took place at Natti’s office at 221 North LaSalle just a block from our Chicago Cut Steakhouse dinner reservation last night. Lang shot himself in the arm to support his claim, but court testimony ruled against him. Apparently, Chicago mayor Anton Cermak ordered the attempted murder of Natti and other gangsters who “did not answer to him.” Natti was shot three times in the back and neck in the scuffle but survived. This incident eventually led to Lang’s firing from the police force. Mayor Cermak, in turn, was shot and killed by a gunman is he was talking to President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt. Historians believe that the bullet was intended for Roosevelt. It’s all part of Chicago gangland lore.

Dillinger, Capone, and now Natti apparently play a role in this year’s retirement continuing education on mobsters & gangsters. They all saw their lives end in tragedy, proving once again that “crime doesn’t pay (in the long run).” During the Prohibition-era, Chicago never earned the title of “murder capital of the world,” but there were certainly many high-profile crimes, as I’ve uncovered these past few months of retirement. I just hope the Cubs don’t get “murdered” this afternoon by the Angels.

I wrote of “jet lag” yesterday, but I really should have called it a “travel hangover,” adapting from a hectic adventure schedule in Thailand to life again as a homebody. I’m back in my office chair after a 3.1-mile run. It was much less painful than yesterday but still relatively slow. I still feel sluggish, but at least there’s some initiative. All I did yesterday was watch movies, including Logan’s Run, The Third Man, and Strangers On A Train. Today, I plan to be much more constructive and perhaps even finish my taxes and print out copies of our newly written wills. I have ten days until we hit the road again.

Yesterday, I had to make an unexpected change to our return trip from Chicago a week later. American Airlines eliminated their direct flight back to Portland, so we’ll have to fly through Dallas on the way back. It’s just one more hassle to deal when you leave the comforts of home, because it adds about 3 hours to our flight time including a layover. We sure had our share of those last week in the 36 hour traverse from Phuket to Portland. Fortunately, there’s a lot more to do in airports these days. As you travel around the world, you literally hop from from mall to mall. It sometimes seems like the airlines are paid a commission on retail sales to keep you there as long as possible. At least we still have a direct flight there.

According to Drifter Planet a “Travel Hangover” is “that feeling when you return home from traveling and feel your life will end if you don’t go back.” I’m at least retired and continue to be “on vacation” when I return, unlike my wife who has to go back to work for a few more years. I don’t know when we’ll “go back” to Thailand because there are too many other places we want to go. As I continue to refer to the 1000 Places To See Before You Die calendar on my desk, I realize that there are so many places that I’ve yet to visit. We do have a trip planned to Egypt next year to see The Spinx as offered on the first day of this week’s destinations. Other yet to be explored sites shown include Denmark; Iran; Argentina & Chile; Colombia; Port Antonio, Jamaica; and the Maldive Islands. We did spend some time in the Montego Bay, Jamaica airport (or should I say mall) a few years ago. Although I can technically mark that spot on our travel map, I can’t really say that I experienced much of this island that has always been a bucket destination for me. I guess you could say that I’ve been there but haven’t done that. The same is true for last week’s airport visits to Tokyo and Seoul.

I’m not sure that I’ve ever had the “feeling that my life will end if I don’t go back” with anyplace we’ve ever visited. I always assume that I will eventually get back there again, but if you want to see the whole world you have to keep moving on. My personal definition of a “Travel Hangover” is more like that hollow feeling when one journey ends and the next one has yet to begin. “Jet Lag” is often a temporary souvenir of any long journey. I’m glad its immobilizing effects are gradually wearing off, but the actual “hangover” won’t end until next weeks adventure actually starts.

OK Math students! If Mike and his wife have a 1:40 a.m. flight on Sunday morning from Phuket, Thailand to Portland, Oregon, and have layovers in Seoul, Korea and San Francisco, can they get home on the same day? And, if so at what time?

One last day on the beach before our long journey home. We’ve already checked out of our luxury suite, put our big bags in storage, and secured a locker at the Fitness Center. After the run this morning that included a loop of Micky Monkey Beach, we took an overdue dip in the ocean. The turquoise water was surprisingly calm with a slight undertow and not many waves, except when the tsunami hit fifteen years ago and took nearly 5000 lives. Last night, we watched some excerpts from the movie Impossible, filmed here about the Indian Ocean earthquake that caused all the destruction. We also watched clips of other Thai movies including The Man with the Golden Gun, Hangover 2, Star Wars, Mortal Combat, The Beach,and Rambo. The towering rock islands that identify this area are like Oregon’s Haystack Rock on steroids. It’s time to get back to reality, but you need a calculator to get there.

One last visit from my cousin, and a final afternoon of lounging by our favorite pool. There were three to choose from. I finished the book Swimming Lessons and ordered more Cheeseburger Spring Rolls. It’s Saturday both here and at home with a 14-hour time difference, so I need to get in at least a mile at the Fitness Center to keep my daily running streak intact, although I did also run twice two days ago but today I will stay true with Pacific Standard Time. It gets confusing when you cross the International Date Line. I’ll do the Sunday run on our treadmill once we get back to the house and Monday morning I should be back on schedule.

We did our showering & changing at the Marriott Vacation Club Fitness Center then enjoyed a great meal at Andaman. It was a resort-wide lights out at 8:30 p.m. to observe the annual energy saving worldwide Earth Hour event. Another Thai massage on the beach eased some of the stiffness in my lower back. An hour long session was the equivalent of 16 U.S. dollars (500 bahts). Maybe it was the “Luggagethon” on the outbound journey that caused the problem? At 10 p.m. we caught a taxi to the airport, arriving three hours early since we didn’t know what to expect with United partner Asiana Airlines. The flight was delayed another two hours, eliminating any possibility of touring Seoul during our seven-hour long layover there. Let’s add this up: 5 hours in Phuket, 6 in the air, 4 hours sitting in Seoul, 12 more to San Francisco, 2 hours there, and another 2 back to Portland. That’s 31 hours to get home at 2:45 p.m. on the same day we left. It’s what you call crazy “Travel Math” to go along with a certain lack of restful sleep. Hopefully, there aren’t any more delays.

It was a 007 day here in Thailand. We spent it on a boat in the Andaman Sea of the eastern Indian Ocean. It was part of a tour to “James Bond Island,” made famous in the movie Man With A Golden Gun (1974). Of course my favorite Bond was Sean Connery, who starred in seven of the action films beginning with Dr. No (1962) and continuing with From Russia With Love (1963), Goldfinger (1964), and Thunderball (1965). David Niven (Casino Royale 1967) was a temporary Bond before Connery’s return in You Only Live Twice (1967). George Lazenby was the next 007 in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969) before another Connery encore in Diamonds Are Forever (1971). Then it was Roger Moore’s turn for Secret Agent-hood with Live and Let Die (1973) followed by the filming in Thailand at one of the islands we visited today.

Sean Connery of course came back the seventh and final time to play James Bond in 1983 with Never Say Never Again, while Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan, and most recently Daniel Craig extended the timeless “Bond…James Bond” role into its 26th production, scheduled to be released later this year. I think that it’s remarkable that the franchise has survived despite seven different actors in the same role. However, each generation now seems to have their favorite. I was personally disappointed with the change from Connery to Moore, especially after the single appearances by Niven and Lazenby. In the transition, the Bond character lost some of it’s appeal to me, and I honestly don’t remember much of the Roger Moore Era, including The Man With the Golden Gun. Here’s what I found on Wikipedia:

“Location – Ko Tapu, Phang Nga Bay, Phuket. Scene -Bond flies over Phang Nga Bay on his way to hitman Scaramanga’s island hideaway on Ko Tapu, now known as James Bond Island. It’s a beautiful setting and the movie has made it a popular tourist attraction. I will have to watch it again to refresh my memory, but it was a memorable day of canoeing through caves, seeing bats & monkeys, and swimming in the warm ocean waters. I was also embarrassed to discover that I have been having some trouble with the conversion rate of dollars to bahts. I embarrassingly under-tipped in Bangkok on several occasions to the tune of small change, and significantly over-tipped twice today. It must be a function of jet-lag. James Bond would have never given someone a 65-cent tip. I honestly thought it was the equivalent $7.50, but the recipient graciously smiled and acted like it was generous anyway. I’m sure they were probably thinking, “cheap American tourist.”