Votka is deadly!

On the 7th of September I took a flight to Almaty with Air Astana, which was an okay flight. The food was ok, window seat was ok, and no passenger in the middle seat is very ok. Movie was a flick called Arthur, which was a shitty piece but acceptable during a five hour flight. My customer had booked a hotel for me, called Kazzhol, where I checked in around 07.00 pm.

Surprisingly I had to pay upfront for my reservation, which was somewhat expensive but then again every hotel in Almaty is expensive. I dropped my bags in the luggage room and headed straight to a restaurant where my customer was dining with wife and friends. I was served some delightful meat and salads, which turned out to be horse meat. Not bad at all! I have never ridden a horse but I’m proud to say that I have eaten one. That should count for something too.

I was introduced to the friends and we started taking shots of vodka, which was accompanied by a toast/speech. We were six people at the table and I had to make a speech twice. This should give you an idea about the amount of vodka that I had digested at the end. The effects of my unfortunate consumption of this deadly liquid were presented to me during the morning hours, where I woke up to salute the porcelain god. He was not pleased to talk to me, whereas my sentiments were totally the contrary. I felt relieved getting rid of the horse meat from my stomach..oh yeah, and the vodka too of course. Even the thought of the smell made me feel dizzy. Clearly, I was not a man of speeches. 

The second day we went to this useless exhibition, where I could almost sleep off my hangover since nobody showed the slightest interest in our products. This could also be related to the fact that I still smelled vodka and bawled at people that approached the stand, throwing them deadly looks in case they dared to talk to me and interrupt my sleep. After the successful exhibition we went straight to another restaurant, where they urged me to make a toast, again. 
Again, there were six of us but I’m proud to say that I have declined bravely with every bone in my body to take a sip of their venomous poison. Again they took turns and gave a speech to their glass of vodka and I gave mine with a glass of coke. This led to some mocking I believe, but I am just assuming this since they spoke in Russian..oh yeah, and they were giggling and laughing, pointing at me with their fingers. Especially the wife must have thought of me as a pussy but I did not care since my stomach assured me that it was the right thing to do. It was not ready to salute the deity again nor was I. 

Back at the hotel with the smelly elevator. Seldom have I entered an elevator that smelled so bad. The room was clean and my bed was a king size bed. So it was again ok. The final day at the exhibition was again lacking any visitors that were worth to mention. I bribed the men of the transport company so they could deliver the box earlier to my booth. Thus I could start with the packing and leave as early as possible. I took an early flight again with Air Astana and was planning already my next trip to Baku, Azerbaijan.

Return of the mummy

Where is Betsy?

 

Airline: Turkish Airlines
Destination: Tbilisi, Georgia

Duration of stay: Three days.

It was a two hour flight from Istanbul to Tbilisi, without any remarkable interruptions. I took a taxi from the small airport of Tbilisi, which consists really of a one big hall with a dining area and some check-in counters. I had a reservation at Hotel Betsy’s which was up on the hills of Tbilisi. Nice small hotel with an outside swimming pool. Tbilisi is a nice city surrounded by mountains. My hotel was located at the top of a steep hill and I had to climb down to get to the town centre. I had to visit some clients in Georgia, which I did the first two days, so I could have the final day for myself to spend some time by the swimming pool.

My client took me to a restaurant where we ate some pizza. We were accompanied by his driver who didn’t speak any other language than Georgian. My client was fluent in Russian, English and Turkish. During our chat the driver sat silently not being able to join our conversation; whereupon my client explained me that he told various times to his driver that he needed to learn at least some English. The driver responded him with a joke, which the client translated it to me now:

A driver of a Georgian company was to pick up a client from the airport. His wife accompanied him to the airport since she needed to do some shopping at the mall that was close to the airport. The client, an educated Englishmen, arrived punctually and was welcomed by the driver and his wife, who was holding up a paper with the name of the client. Trying to be friendly the Englishmen tried to have a little chat with the couple. Not understanding a single word what the client said they would just look and said: we speak only Georgian; we don’t understand you. However, as educated as the client was he also was a persistent little fucker and bombarded them with the same question in various languages, hoping that they would speak at least some bits and pieces of any other language:

Do you speak English?

Sprechen Sie Deutsch?Parlez-vous français??
Hablas Español?
Parli Italiano?Você fala Português?

The couple just looked helpless and dropped their shoulders in embarrassment. Furious and embarrassed with her husband’s ignorance she started to complain about her husband: How many times have I told you to learn some foreign language, you lazy ass? Sitting all day in front of the TV, drinking your beer. Look, how the poor man is trying so hard to communicate with us! Such an educated man; speaking so many languages.

The driver looked at his wife and said:
Are you stupid, you cow? So what if he speaks 7-8 languages? He doesn’t speak MY language. He is still unable to communicate with us! So what’s the use of so many languages? At the moment he is as smart as I am!

I really laughed hard at this funny joke and enjoyed my delightful pizza, which was really good. Georgian people speak hardly any English so I relied on the most effective language of the world: sign language!
The next day I decided to take a taxi to do a little sightseeing and started to make some indescribable movements with my hands and fingers to the taxi driver explaining him my intentions; plus I spoke really slowly in English as if I was speaking to a moron. However, the taxi driver looked at me like I was the moron myself and said to me in decent English:

- What is wrong with you? Are you suffering some mental illness? 

- Maarrrrrrrrrriouttsss hhhhotelllll pleahseeeeee!

Embarrassed with my own stupidity, which I tried to hide by continuing with my little scam, I gave direction to take me to the Marriot’s hotel, where I would enjoy some good coffee and some decent meal.

There are nice buildings in Tbilisi and the people are rather friendly. However, I wouldn’t stay there longer than three days since there is not much to see. Yeah, yeah..I can hear them saying, what do you know moron..but then again, this is just my humble opinion.

Soundtrack of this trip: This is gonna hurt – Sixx AM.

Tashkent...city of chocolate-loving custom officers..

Flight: Turkish Airlines
Destination: Tashkent, Usbekistan

I landed really late around 2.00 o’clock in Tashkent. I had to fill out a declaration in the plane stating how much foreign currency I had with me. I had thousand USD on me, which I declared. ( I forgot that I had some fifty Euro hidden somewhere between the dollar bills and I didn’t declare them). The airport was a joke since we where directed straight to passport control, walking through a narrow corridor, where there were like three passport booths. So there were us 150 people waiting for at least an hour to get through passport control. When it was my turn the officer checked my German passport carefully like it was some peculiarity. He turned every page as if there was something hidden behind every page. Stupid dumbfuck! Then he just took off with my passport and went to another colleague showing him my visa as if he’s never seen one before. However, after a while he came back and I was free to pass through. My luggage was already waiting for me. Just when I was passing through the door the officer came after me and demanded again my passport. He, again took of and showed it to a colleague. They looked at it jointly, whispering stuff that I didn’t understand. What was wrong with these people? Anyway, he came back and handed me my passport saying in German: Willkommen in Usbekistan, mein Herr.

- Thank you, you dwarf! (Not that he was very small, but according to my theory, the officials in ex-communist countries are hiding their short figure by wearing ridiculously big hats.! Ok, I am still working on that theory) .

I took a taxi to the hotel, paying him ten dollars. I had a little chat with the driver. We understood each other in Turkish. The driver spoke in Usbek language and I responded in Turkish. No problem with communication! Brilliant!

I stayed at the Dedeman in Tashkent, sharing my room with cockroaches. They didn’t mind it but I did. The carpet was really dirty with unidentifiable stains. I don't know if I'm going to see Tashkent ever again but in case I do, I will break both my legs before I stay at the Dedeman again. Little exaggerated? Ok, maybe I will. The breakfast was okay and the staff was friendly so I guess, I'll give it a second chance and them cockroaches too.

Tashkent has little to offer since most of the city was destroyed in some earthquake in the 60s. Some nice parks, museums, monuments, wide streets. Big ex-communist party buildings. Ridiculosuly poor equipped shopping mall. And that was it. During my visit I met with a client who spoke excellent English and everybody else did too and I was suprised to see so many Italians in Tashkent.

Anyways, the return flight was less nice since I had some problems with the customs. Remember the dough that I needed to declare? Well, it turned out that the 50 Euros that I forgot was a major issue for the government officials in Tashkent since they treated me like some hotshot contraband dealer. 

Time: Five o’clock in the morning.
Place: Tashkent Airport Customs.
Mission: Getting out the fastest way from Usbekistan. 

I made my declaration once again stating the money that I had left in my pockets. However, little did I know that I was going to be stripsearched in a cabin in the airport. When they found the 50 Euros in my wallet they started screaming, looking at me like I was some rapist or murderer or worse a member of the national folklore team of Tajikistan.

Surprised by their reaction I didn’t know what to say so I just mumbled..but dude..it’s only fify euros..what  do you want???

They dragged me to some oficial where I went through the same harrasment.  Finally, I got so mad by their stupid reaction I started yelling: - What the hell do you want from me man???
Response from another dwarf with big hat: (and this is a true story, I swear to God) Go, buy me some chocolate..but one of the good ones eh? You know, the Swiss one!

So, that was all the fuss about??? Chocolate???

The man wants his chocolate. I rushed to the store and bought him his swiss chocolate and suddenly I was a free man!

Goodbye Tashkent! Let's hope we'll never meet again.