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Sep. 10th, 2007 12:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumIt's good to be home. I'd like to be aboard a boat, heading for another island, but since I can't be, this is good too. My coffee, my bed (though my snuggle bunny is on a train in the Andes, and it seems awfully big for just me), the smells and sounds I am used to, these are good things.
It occurs to me, that apart from passing mention, I’ve not talked about the general impressions, nor yet the food.
First:I take back what I said about the Bogota airport having a better grasp of security than the states.
The pat down still seems reasonable (though this time it was done far less professionally, in that I could have snuck a submachine gun [for size] in the area they didn’t check) but either the system works, or it doesn’t.
I can accept they might not trust that a flaw wasn’t exploited between boarding in some other airport, and arriving in Colombia (a confederate in maintenance who leaves something in the lavatory/overhead would suffice), and so they want me to pass through a checkpoint, but to have, not twenty meters from the pat down station, and in sight of the x-ray machines I had to pass through to be patted down another x-ray, and metal detector, and individual wanding, well that’s theater
Because anything which wasn’t caught the first time (or in the pat down) isn’t likely to be seen by the bored people making the third check of people who are making connecting flights.
Which means one of two things; they are engaging in a wasting of resources to keep the TSA/DHS happy (most likely, in light of the War on Some Drugs), or the system is fundamentally flawed and none of it means anything.
The third possibility (that both of the above are true) isn’t really important. because if the second is true, the first is, actually, more important, because the economic hit of refusing transit through Colombia, for all the taffic it seems hub too, is more than the country can afford to take; which would actually justify the first.
Which implies they might know it's borked, and don't care to really fix it, rather they will continue the charade, and count on the fear of being taken aside and dealt with for complaining in public (which is how the TSA handles it One might think Customs/Immigration uses similar things for the same, ostensible purpose, but I've been reading stories like that one for decades) will make it just an inconvenience they can force on people who travel.
Quito is interesting, in the way the strange and foreign are always interesting (at least to me, and to most of my acquaintance. I’ve known people who have no curiosity about other peoples and places, but they are strange, even alien beings to me). It is, however, smaller than the cabbie said (or we misunderstood him), the population of Ecuador is 30 million, and something like 2 million of them (depending on just how we want to define Quito... just as LA is more populated than NYC, depending on how one draws the lines).
The city is a mix of the run down, and the new. Walls held together with concrete patches between the bricks; buildings with roofs of corrugated tin, and walls of delicate brick.
There was a storehouse, which was once a fine piece of modern glassworks, a tapering tower, which started from a mushroomed base. I know it’s now a storehouse, not an office building (despite the name, which seemed to indicate that was its past) because the boxes were pushed to the very edge. There were broken panes of glass; fronted with cardboard. I can only hope the contents were proof against the weather.
The weather was cool. Not really surprising, with an altitude of 8,000 ft, and sitting in a bowl of the Andes.
The people were friendly. I know that’s cliché but it’s true. Everyone was friendly, not just to tourists, but to each other. The cabbie leaned out the window to say something to some other cabbie, the passers-by said hello.
On the flip side, there were guards at the grocery. They weren’t, as a rule armed, but they were wearing body armor. A couple of them had .38s in their vest. The guy at the Police Headquarters had a worn Uzi.
The food is influenced by Italy and England. Breakfast was fruit (and juices) tea/coffee, cheese (a paneer-like fresh cheese, slightly sour, and with a squeaky texture) eggs and toast. The bacon (side/belly) was good, but the only ham I saw was chopped/pressed in slices.
The last night I was in Ecuador I ate at my hotel, I had the Lomo a la Voronoff (beef in a light sauce of mustard, cream and brandy). The meat was terrible to look at (it didn’t help that all I had was a fine-toothed “steak knife” to cut it with. It was ragged, and mushy looking. It was wonderful. The evidence of the broth (and the chicken with parsley I had in Pta. Ayora) from before was borne out (despite the boring lamb from the night we went out in Quito). The steer had been given room to walk about, and the meat had hung for awhile.
Which gave an earthy note, to support the sharp attack; and sweet finish, of the sauce Voronoff.
In Pta. Ayora we had wonderful breads from the panaderia we saw walking back from the lava tubes. Some cinnamon rolls, sweet white bread, soft and filled with vanilla, and cinnamon. There were others, a little drier, with a vanilla and banana lump in the middle. The default bread was a sliced, moderately, sweet, white, with a slightly dense crumb. It was the ideal to which Weber strives.
The only oddity was the “croissant”. It wasn’t anything like one (though a superficial resemblance was there, so long as all one did was look, from a distance). It was a slightly sour, dense, roll.
Butter was cultured, and never salted.
The meals were small (compared to U.S. portions) which was fine. It made eating three meals a day much more sensible. The hot chocolate had a malty nature, and was probably made with boxed milk.
The most interesting meal was the one where we just got whatever the place had. It was a vegetable soup, green beans, potatoes, carrots and some fresh beans, for the entrée we had beans, rice and a piece of steamed/poached white fish. It might have been grouper.
There wasn’t anything really hot (the one salsa we were warned was picante was tasty, but not anything which anyone who’s been eating in the Southwestern U.S, would be likely to think of as more than spiced, and a far cry from spicy.
Coffee was variable. Some places it was brewed, some it was Nescafé. Cappuccino could be pulled, or it might come out of one of those machines which put powder and the like into a stream of pressurised water. At breakfast it was served with heated milk.
It occurs to me, that apart from passing mention, I’ve not talked about the general impressions, nor yet the food.
First:I take back what I said about the Bogota airport having a better grasp of security than the states.
The pat down still seems reasonable (though this time it was done far less professionally, in that I could have snuck a submachine gun [for size] in the area they didn’t check) but either the system works, or it doesn’t.
I can accept they might not trust that a flaw wasn’t exploited between boarding in some other airport, and arriving in Colombia (a confederate in maintenance who leaves something in the lavatory/overhead would suffice), and so they want me to pass through a checkpoint, but to have, not twenty meters from the pat down station, and in sight of the x-ray machines I had to pass through to be patted down another x-ray, and metal detector, and individual wanding, well that’s theater
Because anything which wasn’t caught the first time (or in the pat down) isn’t likely to be seen by the bored people making the third check of people who are making connecting flights.
Which means one of two things; they are engaging in a wasting of resources to keep the TSA/DHS happy (most likely, in light of the War on Some Drugs), or the system is fundamentally flawed and none of it means anything.
The third possibility (that both of the above are true) isn’t really important. because if the second is true, the first is, actually, more important, because the economic hit of refusing transit through Colombia, for all the taffic it seems hub too, is more than the country can afford to take; which would actually justify the first.
Which implies they might know it's borked, and don't care to really fix it, rather they will continue the charade, and count on the fear of being taken aside and dealt with for complaining in public (which is how the TSA handles it One might think Customs/Immigration uses similar things for the same, ostensible purpose, but I've been reading stories like that one for decades) will make it just an inconvenience they can force on people who travel.
Quito is interesting, in the way the strange and foreign are always interesting (at least to me, and to most of my acquaintance. I’ve known people who have no curiosity about other peoples and places, but they are strange, even alien beings to me). It is, however, smaller than the cabbie said (or we misunderstood him), the population of Ecuador is 30 million, and something like 2 million of them (depending on just how we want to define Quito... just as LA is more populated than NYC, depending on how one draws the lines).
The city is a mix of the run down, and the new. Walls held together with concrete patches between the bricks; buildings with roofs of corrugated tin, and walls of delicate brick.
There was a storehouse, which was once a fine piece of modern glassworks, a tapering tower, which started from a mushroomed base. I know it’s now a storehouse, not an office building (despite the name, which seemed to indicate that was its past) because the boxes were pushed to the very edge. There were broken panes of glass; fronted with cardboard. I can only hope the contents were proof against the weather.
The weather was cool. Not really surprising, with an altitude of 8,000 ft, and sitting in a bowl of the Andes.
The people were friendly. I know that’s cliché but it’s true. Everyone was friendly, not just to tourists, but to each other. The cabbie leaned out the window to say something to some other cabbie, the passers-by said hello.
On the flip side, there were guards at the grocery. They weren’t, as a rule armed, but they were wearing body armor. A couple of them had .38s in their vest. The guy at the Police Headquarters had a worn Uzi.
The food is influenced by Italy and England. Breakfast was fruit (and juices) tea/coffee, cheese (a paneer-like fresh cheese, slightly sour, and with a squeaky texture) eggs and toast. The bacon (side/belly) was good, but the only ham I saw was chopped/pressed in slices.
The last night I was in Ecuador I ate at my hotel, I had the Lomo a la Voronoff (beef in a light sauce of mustard, cream and brandy). The meat was terrible to look at (it didn’t help that all I had was a fine-toothed “steak knife” to cut it with. It was ragged, and mushy looking. It was wonderful. The evidence of the broth (and the chicken with parsley I had in Pta. Ayora) from before was borne out (despite the boring lamb from the night we went out in Quito). The steer had been given room to walk about, and the meat had hung for awhile.
Which gave an earthy note, to support the sharp attack; and sweet finish, of the sauce Voronoff.
In Pta. Ayora we had wonderful breads from the panaderia we saw walking back from the lava tubes. Some cinnamon rolls, sweet white bread, soft and filled with vanilla, and cinnamon. There were others, a little drier, with a vanilla and banana lump in the middle. The default bread was a sliced, moderately, sweet, white, with a slightly dense crumb. It was the ideal to which Weber strives.
The only oddity was the “croissant”. It wasn’t anything like one (though a superficial resemblance was there, so long as all one did was look, from a distance). It was a slightly sour, dense, roll.
Butter was cultured, and never salted.
The meals were small (compared to U.S. portions) which was fine. It made eating three meals a day much more sensible. The hot chocolate had a malty nature, and was probably made with boxed milk.
The most interesting meal was the one where we just got whatever the place had. It was a vegetable soup, green beans, potatoes, carrots and some fresh beans, for the entrée we had beans, rice and a piece of steamed/poached white fish. It might have been grouper.
There wasn’t anything really hot (the one salsa we were warned was picante was tasty, but not anything which anyone who’s been eating in the Southwestern U.S, would be likely to think of as more than spiced, and a far cry from spicy.
Coffee was variable. Some places it was brewed, some it was Nescafé. Cappuccino could be pulled, or it might come out of one of those machines which put powder and the like into a stream of pressurised water. At breakfast it was served with heated milk.
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Date: 2007-09-10 08:20 pm (UTC)