Ho Chi Minh City..

While I am writing these lines about Saigon I have already another trip behind..I was in Belgrade and in Nis last week and I wanted to write something while I was there about my trip to Vietnam but to be honest I am such a lazy bum when it comes to writting my blog that no one gives a effin' shit about so I am doing this at work now..what an example of a white collar worker huh?

Sooo I was in Saigon a.k.a. Ho Chi Minh City last month and it was a very pleasant surprise after visiting th chaotic Jakarta. I took a flight with Vietnam Airlines, which was quite good. The flight itself lasted like 3 hours. After landing we had to go to passport control. Those countries who require a visa can get one at the airport where you have to fill out a form and get your picture taken. However, people get a bit unease seeing the military officials at the counter but everybody's friendly and in a matter of minutes I was sitting in a taxi on my way to the Rex Hotel, where I had booked a stay for 2 nights. The hotel was perfectly located in the city center and the staff was very friendly and helpful. I was picked up by our sales staff at the hotel and we took a small city tour. Very friendly guys who took me to a german beerhouse. I have no idea what its name was but there were pictures of many celebrities like Bill Clinton on the wall who enjoyed a beer at the same spot. 

Food was great too.

The only thing that bugged me about Ho Chi Minh City was the weather..it was really humid and hot. I was out for two hours and soaking wet when I got back to the hotel. There are some beautiful examples of arquitechture going back to the French era. I had only two days there but I would love to spend more time in this city. It is worth a visit.

Jakarta...traffic, traffic, traffic..oh yes...and traffic..

Well, what can I say about Jakarta? I had the luck to spend three nights in Jakarta last month and I must say I wish the good people of Indonesia all the best and a lot of patience but most of all..mental health! I mean who can explain me why there are not thousands of roadkills, people going bezerk, furious madness in the streets of Jakarta? I swear to God, I needed one and a half hour just to leave the airport parking area because of the chaotic car situation..it took me 2 1/2 hours to get to the hotel..luckily I was picked up by our partner there but I really felt sorry for the poor guy. He said he was used to it but how can you get used to such a nightmare?  Anyways, I had a reservation at the Double Tree Hilton, which turned out to be a splendid hotel. Service was top notch. Breakfast was great and the rooms were always tidy. The only minus point I could mention was the difficulty to find the entrance of the hotel. It was hidden in a side alley and a bit complicated for taxi drivers to find it. My customer took me to dinner in a fish restaurant and the food was extraordinary. I am not a big fish-fan (neither the band nor the food :-)) but the shrimps, different dishes in sauce they were all delicious.
I knew about the whole massage culture in Indonesia but I wasn't really comfortable because I didn't want to end up in happy-end massage parlour when my customer suggested to have a massage. But to my surprise the massage center was in a modern shopping mall and it was quite cheap. One hour massage for 25 USD was acceptable and the massage was very relaxing. And no happy ending by the way. It was a very clean and professional place so my worries were needless.
I have to say that I was disillusioned with Jakarta. There wasn't much to see. Tall buildings, shopping malls and crowded streets. But the food was great. So I caught my next plane to Ho Chi Minh-City curious to see what Vietnam was like.

One lame trip!!

I went to Amsterdam last month where I'd visit some customers and then go to different cities like Rotterdam, Maastricht or Veghel. I stayed only one night in pot city and the weather was shitty. It was rainy, cold and simply no fun to be there. I had the pleasure(!) to stay at a hotel called Apollo, which was located a bit outside of the city center but it was a cheaper alternative as other hotels were fully booked. I paid like 120 EUR per night (including breakfast) but the room was shitty. The mini bar looked scandalous with only two small bottles of white wine, knocked  down and that was it. Carpet was dirty, breakfast was limited. Bathroom was tiny with confusing labels. The shower had a dispenser labelled handsoap, the sink had a dispenser labelled shampoo..so you get the picture..it was not a pleasant stay. I know what people think when I say Amsterdam..pot, alcohol and red light..well, none of those things appeal to me, especially on a business trip...well, pot does but I was not in the mood.

The next morning I went to Rotterdam, which has one of the biggest ports in Europe. You know, Nazis bombed the whole city flat in WWII and somehow the dutch managed to build one ugly building after another so the city has no charm whatsoever. To it is one of the ugliest towns in Holland. After visiting the customer in Rotterdam I went to Den Haag, which is not far away by car. They have a great Chinatown. After strolling around half an hour I went to a chinese restaurant called Fat Kee, which was fully packed and the food was nice with adequate prices.. And the service was fast..worth a visit, if you should ever get there.
The next morning I headed to Maastricht. It is a cute little town where you can stroll around in the old city. It has a nice cathedral, a nice park with water mills and a small lake. I was lucky because the weather was so nice. I must say I liked it a lot better than Amsterdam or Rotterdam.
The last day I went to Heerlen where I stayed at the Stadshotel de Paris, which is located in the city center. It serves mainly as a restaurant but it also has some rooms where you can stay cheaply.
I did not encounter anything interesting or even annoying during this trip so it was a bit boring. I can't even rant about anything here.
Next trip is going to be to Frankfurt..let's see if I can get pissed off there..!

Amsterdam..black and white..

It was a cold, rainy day in February

just a collection of photos..

El nómada imparable..

El camino sigue y sigue..no podemos parar..la inmovilidad nos mata..! Creo que esta frase recapacita principalmente la esencia de nuestra vida. Bueno, quizá no de todos pero si la mía..'nunca olvides de donde vienes' es un dicho que uno debería aceptar como lema para su vida pero en mi caso lo tenia bastante difícil determinar donde es aquel lugar. La historia empieza con mis abuelos, quizá más atrás, que ellos vivían en un pueblecito cerca a la frontera que separaba Rumanía y Bulgaria. Ellos siendo turcos eran desechos del imperio otomano, olvidados en países conquistados y durante la primera guerra mundial animados a trasladarse a otras tierras que no conocían. Mi abuelos eran bastante joven cuando embarcaron en el viaje, que los llevo a un pueblo de Anatolia, donde el gobierno turco les prometió un campo. Mi abuelo tenia 23 años, y creo que es entendible que un joven no quiere ganar su vida con agricultura. Una cosa que no es relevante pero siempre me extrañaba el hecho que mi abuelo, siendo turco, hizo su servicio militar en el ejercicio rumano. Pues, dejaron atrás aquel campo y empezaron a buscar gente que compartía el mismo origen y lo encontraron en un barrio de Estambul. Era un gueto de la gente balcánica donde también vivían los padres de mi madre. Ellos vinieron de Varna una ciudad en Bulgaria.  En aquel barrio creció mi padre junto con mi madre. Pero no sé si era karma u otra cosa pero cuando mi padre tenia 21 año se decidió buscarse la vida en Alemania. Mi madre tenia la misma idea, y se fue con 17 años a Alemania para trabajar en una fabrica. Durante el servicio militar mi padre se enamoró de una alemana que trabajaba en cuerpo de paz en Turquia, y él siguió la alemana a Munich. No sé por qué no funcionó con la alemana pero un año luego mi padre empezó a escribir cartas a mi madre. Ella vivía unos quinientos kilómetros lejos de Munich en un pueblo pequeño cerca a Bonn. Pues, cuando mi padre tenia 24 años se casaron en el consulado turco en Mainz.

Alquilaban un piso de 40 metros cuadrados en un pueblo que tenia poca industria y la gente cultivaba vid y vendía vino. Allí nací yo en 1972. Era uno de aquellos pueblos donde todo el mundo conocía uno al otro. Pues, en 1982 cuando tenia diez años mis padres pensaban que necesitan un cambio y se trasladaron otra vez a Estambul donde mi padre intentó su suerte con una tienda de cuero. Él aprendio de un sastre armenio como hacer chaquetas de cuero cuando tenia 17 años pero lo falló porque mi padre, aunque un buen sastre, no fue un buen comerciante. Quebrado, sin ingresos y encima con tres hijos mis padres decidieron volver a Alemania. Otra vez hicieron su camino. Cuando estudiaba en la universidad lo tocaba a mí..cogí el fiebre del viajero, y fui a Barcelona con 28 años para estudiar y trabajar. Pero el gen dominante me mandó moverme otra vez, y un agosto tres años después fui a Estambul donde conocí a mi mujer. Estambul es una ciudad de maravilla pero también lleno de contradicciones. Era tan diferente de Alemania. Tenia problemas adaptarme a la cultura oriental y mi mujer haciendo el sacrificio lo aceptó y nos mudamos otra vez a Alemania. Primero pensábamos volver a Barcelona pero echaba de menos a mis padres, y volvimos al pueblo donde yo nací hace unos 35 años.
La historia no para aquí porque la vida tenia otros planes..por causas laborales acabamos otra vez en Estambul. Aceptaba un puesto en una empresa que me hizo hacer viajes por todo el mundo. Desde aquel tiempo estoy volando y volando..viajé a 50 países visitó a 150 ciudades, hablando con gentes innumerables ..soy el nómada imparable! 

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.