“Here , There , Elsewhere.” : All Over The Place

When I read William Least Heat Moon’s first travel book  Blue Highways , I had no idea that it was going to be famous. All I knew was that I loved it.That was in the early eighties and since then I’ve tried to be on the lookout for Least Heat Moon’s books .  I’ve read PrairyErth and Roads to Quoz and enjoyed them both though not as much as Blue Highways. River Horse didn’t sustain my interest but that might have been my fault ; Least Heat Moon’s books have to be read slowly and savored and I am an impatient reader. It was with high hopes,  that I started reading his latest Here , There, Elsewhere but now, having read it , I am a little disappointed.

Unlike Moon’s earlier books , Here There, Elsewhere is a collection of his travel pieces written for various magazines over the past 30 years. It differs also from his earlier efforts  in that these articles are about his travels all over the world, not just America . There are travel pieces about the back country of Japan , England , New Zealand , Italy, Mexico and the Shetlands and Orkneys off the coast of Scotland, in addition to articles about his travels in the United States. The result is a book that is very uneven : when it is good , it is excellent but  there are other parts that are ho-hum. This is not surprising because these articles were written for different magazines , whose various editors had definite ideas of what their readers wanted to read and edited and slanted  the articles accordingly . Moon says that he has restored the articles to their original form but the fact remains that he was sometimes writing about subjects that he might not himself have chosen. It would have been interesting to know which magazine each of the articles appeared in .

In general , I liked the articles on America better . Moon  has a feel for this country , particularly the Great Plains , that shines through in his writing . When he writes about his travels abroad , he doesn’t write with the same authority. One of the charms about Least Heat Moon’s books is his interaction with the characters he meets on his travels . These are people whom we will never come across on our own and Moon’s conversations with them are entertaining even as they enable us to better understand the world they live in .The best articles in this book are those which are larded with such encounters .In particular I liked Out East On the North Fork ( about Long Island) and A Little Tour In Yoknapatawpha County ( about Faulkner’s mythical Mississippi county).I also love it when he describes the way things used to be in his childhood days . The Last Thanksgiving of Whispers-to-Hawks ( about an eccentric relative very proud of his Indianness) is hilarious and that are other lovely pieces about travel in Kansas in the old days and travelling through small-town America. Enjoyable too are chapters on the writing of his earlier books.

Conversely , when Moon  describes desolate landscapes, bare of people ,I find myself wanting to skip to the next chapter . A prime example is The Old Land of Misfortune , about a jaunt in south-west Oregon , a region that he calls the Big Empty. It is not a place that I would want to visit . Why would I want to read about it ?

In his introduction to the book , Moon fulminates against the style of writing in most journalism today. He laments  that ” the so-called plain style, with its hallmark ,  the simple declarative sentence free of subordinate clauses ,reigns supreme and with it , too often , a decline of fluently sophisticated locutions and illuminating modifiers.” I understand what he his getting at and I agree with him , for the most part. However , in his love of complex sentences and obscure words ( sesquipedal ? caliginous ? toponyms ?) , I think Moon sometimes goes too far , showing off rather than elucidating. I wish too that there was some order in the arrangement of the pieces, either chronological or geographical . Moon says that originally assembled them in chronological order but then re-arranged them intuitively ( whatever that means) leaving it to  readers find the theme, if any , for themselves. The lack of any order makes the book seem like a hodgepodge.

I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about Here , There, Elsewhere . William Least Heat Moon is a great travel writer and this book is well worth reading . You might however want to pick your spots and skip some of the chapters.

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The Armchair Traveller in Nebraska … III

Days 4-5 of a virtual journey.

In our Gering motel room , we discuss whether we really want to explore Scotts Bluff. Like Chimney Rock , its features are visible from a distance . From the road , we can clearly see the layers of siltstone, sandstone , volcanic ash and limestone of which it is formed. Do we really want to stop at the visitors center and listen to lectures by park rangers dressed up as fur trappers or pioneers? And shell out a few bucks for the privilege ? No and no.

We take US Rte 26 out of town casting a glance at Scotts Bluff every now then . Sometimes, it looks like the ramparts of a fort ( think Carcassone ) and at other times it reminds us of Ayers Rock in Australia though, of course ,it is much smaller. Then we leave it behind as we  switch to scenic route  29 N ,and forty miles later arrive at the Agate Fossil Beds.

During the early Paleozoic era , most of Nebraska was covered by a shallow inland sea  and,  much later, by the Western Interior Waterway. Fish and sea turtles lived in these waters and the shores were inhabited by dinosaurs . During the Cenozoic age , the waters withdrew and the area became home to mammals like camels and rhinoceroses ( imagine that!). During the Ice Age which followed , giant bears , mammoths , mastodons, horses, and saber toothed big cats roamed ruled for a while . They are long gone now but their fossils are  found all over the state making Nebraska a leading  site for paleontologists. One of the major fossil sites  is the Agate fossil  beds. We had planned to spend a couple of hours here but it is too nice a day to spend indoors looking at fossils , exotic though they may be . We push on instead to Chadron , 45 miles away , where there is a highly recommended Museum of the Fur Trade.

Fur traders from Europe traded  with Native American trappers since the 16th century but the fur trade peaked in the late 19th century . Native American trappers  bartered  furs  for metal implements , (particularly knives and axes) , fish hooks , cloth, woolen blankets, kettles, glass beads etc. The furs most in demand were beaver and buffalo and, to a lesser extent ,deer, bear and ermine. The fur trade was hugely profitable  for the Western traders and it introduced Native Americans to the amenities of modern civilization . Ultimately , however it proved to be the latter’s undoing as it made them dependent on the fur trade. As the buffalo and the beaver were trapped and hunted to near extinction , it led to their decline . In addition , diseases such as smallpox, to which they had no immunity , decimated their ranks .

The Museum at Chadron gives visitors a comprehensive picture of the fur trade. Located on the site of James Bordeaux’s trading post which has been meticulously reconstructed on the original foundation it has extensive collections of trade goods, such as textiles , firearms , tools and implements, provisions , and ornaments. The adjoining  Heirloom Indian Garden is a botanical exhibit of the crops the Indians grew: several varieties of corn , pumpkins, squash, beans and even watermelons. Some of the rare  seed stock is even available for sale.

We’re done with the Museum by late afternoon and drive  to Valentine about 140 miles away . It will break our return journey to Omaha ; no point in rushing . Valentine is a pretty little town in the SandHills area of Western Nebraska . The Niobrara River is located close by and offers opportunities for canoeing and tubing but , even though it’s sunny , the water is too cold for us. We settle in at the Trade Winds motel where the beds look mighty inviting after our long days on the road. First , though , we have dinner at the Cedar Canyon Steakhouse . We want to take a break from meat so my wife has the Stuffed Merliton ( Chayote stuffed with Gulf Shrimp, Creole dressing , Brabant potatoes) and I opt for the Combo Seafood platter ( Stuffed crab, fried shrimp, catfish ,  oysters , crawfish bowlettes(?)). We’re stuffed ,  but make place for a shared spumoni.

Next morning , we avail ourselves of the free country breakfast in the motel lounge , exchanging ” Good mornings ” with the other guests . People are friendly here and  I wonder briefly what it might be like to live in Valentine . I am reminded of a book Special Places : In search of Small Town America , by Berton Roueche , the journalist who wrote extensively for the New Yorker. Valentine  is very picturesque , wholesome environment with plenty of outdoor activities to keep one busy year round  but it seem  confining for a New Jersey suburbanite like me . And then , of course there ‘s the winter….

Winters in Nebraska are long and harsh. (Many museums and tourist spots are open only from April through October.) For the early settlers, winter must have been a nightmare. With homesteads so far apart , company was rare  and, in winter, it was non-existent . Not a few  settler women went mad from loneliness. Sometimes children wandered out ,and  were caught unawares by a sudden storm ; their frozen bodies were only recovered the following spring . And yet , for some , the vast , wide-open spaces became something they grew to love. One woman, born and raised in the Great Plains , was vacationing in the Berkshire Mountains in Massachusetts when she was asked what she thought of the landscape , so different from what she was used to . Her reply “ The hills keep getting in the way of the scenery.”

The gently rolling sandhills give way to the flat landscape that we first saw on our outward journey . Driving the treeless prairie , with the ribbon of empty road stretching into the distance , there is plenty of time to reflect , for the mind to wander. The herds of bison that used to cover the landscape all the way to the horizon are long gone . In their place are cows from the area’s many farms that gaze at us incuriously as we whiz by . Nebraska’s state beverage is milk and I can see why .There are also flocks of ducks and geese but I wish we’d been able to make this trip in late March when we would have been to see the huge flocks of sandhill cranes . These migratory birds stop to rest and feed at the Platte River as they make their way north. Their numbers are truly astounding . A single flock might  have as many as 10,000  birds and , in total , half a million of sandhill cranes ( 80% of the world population ) pass through Nebraska. What a sight it must be to see them all together.

In his new book  Here , There , Elsewhere William Least Heat Moon says that in fifty years of travelling , he has passed through every county in the United States ( all 3000+of them ) at least once . It is not a feat I wish to emulate. I don’t see the point. One county is much the same as its neighbors  and nothing is to be gained from traversing all of them except to be able to say ” I’ve done it .” To me,  travel is a means of getting to know a place and if one’s purpose is to write about one’s travels , to do so from a unique perspective . Even on this virtual journey through Nebraska I’ve passed through less than half its counties and that’s enough for me. What this journey has given me is some sense of huge this country is , how empty parts of it are ,and how heroic  the pioneers  who struck out into the unknown as they traveled west.

Compared to New Jersey , few of the towns we pass have Indian names . Almost all of them are of British origin and many of them are commonplace ones that are repeated elsewhere in the U.S .  Almost 45 % of Nebraskans today claim German or Czech ancestry ;their forefathers emigrated here much later, after the land had already settled by colonists  from England. We take U.S Route 20E past Johnstown , Newport , Stuart , Atkinson and Emmet and at O’Neill ,we turn onto US 275. Eastwards we hurry through Ewing , Clearwater, , Norfolk , West Point and Fremont finally arriving at Omaha .

Our virtual tour of Nebraska is at an end and ,with it, comes a feeling of accomplishment .

Next : Iowa

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The Armchair Traveler in Nebraska -II

Day 3 of a virtual journey

After a leisurely breakfast next morning , we set out for Lincoln about 60 miles from Omaha  . It is both the state capital and home to the University of Nebraska but few out -of staters know that it wasn’t always called Lincoln. Originally named Lancaster, it was  re-named Lincoln in 1867 in  honor of the recently assassinated President. Typical of towns in middle America, it has but one distinguishing feature : the central tower of the state capitol building which juts almost 400 feet into the sky. The tower is surmounted by a bulbous dome topped by a 20 foot high statue of a sower and its decidedly phallic appearance has resulted in the nickname ” The Penis of the Prairie”. Driving towards Lincoln , we can see why . ( LOL)

Lincoln is a pleasant enough city that, in 2008,  was selected The Healthiest City in America . Forced to choose between its  attractions ,we plump for the Nebraska History Museum . We are not disappointed. Though the exhibits could have been better displayed , they are very interesting . Some exhibits  can be accessed online ( www.nebraskahistory.org ). Of particular interest is a Gallery of Mugshots dating back to the early 1900′s. One photo shows a craggy faced  Jake Vohland , arrested after a botched attempt to rob his neighbor’s chicken farm  in 1931, at the height of the Great Depression . For the crime of stealing five chickens (worth $ 5 total), he was sentenced to a year in the penitentiary. He was undoubtedly guilty but one can’t help feeling a little sorry for him. Also of interest is a collection of World War II posters.

Faced with a 2 hour drive to Grand Island , we opt for  a light lunch and wind up at the Green Papaya on N.27th Street. Lincoln must have a sizeable Vietnamese population because we see at least two other Vietnamese joints in the vicinity. We have chosen well. The spring rolls are crisp and the Special Rice Noodles w/ crab , Shrimp and Pork in a rich broth really hits the spot. Refreshed but not weighed down by the food , we hit the road ,taking I-80 W and  arriving  at Grand Island around 4:30 in the afternoon.

Originally founded by German immigrants, Grand Island ( pop . 50,000) lies between the Wood River and the Platte River . Three times designated an All-American City , its economy is heavily dependent on  sugar beets and the meat-packing industry. We drive by the  Stuhr Museum of the Prairie Pioneer  which features a living history village that shows life in a 1890′s era prairie village . It sounds interesting but we are museumed out . I notice that the museum building bears a strong resemblance to the U.S embassy in New Delhi . Not surprising because both were designed by the architect Edward Durell Stone .

The Nebraska State Fair is  held in Grand Island but in September and it is still only May. We drive instead to the west part of town to Tornado Hill, a reminder of the  massive storm that hit Grand Island in 1980 when no less than seven tornadoes leveled much of the town . Debris from the storm was burnt and buried here .  The hill it forms is a grim reminder of that day and how vulnerable Nebraska is to the vagaries of the weather.

Next morning , we continue on I-80W to Gering near Scotts Bluff . It is a long drive ( about 320 miles) and traffic is sparse. The prairie landscape is flat and it stretches on and on . Driving like this , I am struck by the vastness of America . As the car eats up the miles and we drive in air-conditioned comfort , I think back to what it must have been like for the pioneers who travelled these same roads . I said ” roads” ,  but of course there were no roads then.

It is impossible for us , today , to imagine the hardships that the pioneers faced on  their journey. Their  ”prairie schooners” carried up to 2,500 lbs. of household goods but were not built for passenger comfort. There was little room inside in which to sit and the interior became stifling in the summer heat. They did not have springs and rather than suffer the jolting progress, passengers would get out and walk whenever the  wagons had to go across rocky terrain. The Platte valley was relatively flat but elsewhere there were sharp inclines and drops . In spite of all precautions , wagons would sometimes break loose and tumble down a slope to wind up as kindling.

Getting to their destination was difficult enough  but , once arrived , the pioneers’ life was an unending battle against the elements . Clearing the land , growing food , building sodhouses and cabins ,surviving the harsh winters,  fending off  disease and  avoiding work-related injuries taxed those early settlers to the utmost . Nor was farming easy . One legend tells of an Indian watching a settler struggle to plow the sod , to turn it over, and murmuring “ Wrong side up.” Many sodbusters took the advice and turned to cattle raising ; it was only with the advent  of farm machinery that it became possible to farm on a large-scale . Today,  Nebraska grows much  corn , wheat and sorghum but  is also  a leading beef producer.

We go past Kearney and Lexington, Cozad , Gothenburg and North Platte. At Gothenburg , we see a sign for a Pony Express Station . Intent on getting to Gering , we don’t stop but I try to remember what I know of the  Pony Express . Between  April  1860 to October 1861 , Pony Express  riders provided the fastest mail delivery between St. Joseph, Missouri, and Sacramento, California.  In total there were 183 men that rode for the Pony Express during this period , all of them  young and  skinny,  expert riders willing to risk death daily ( ” orphans preferred” ).  Most  were around 20 with the youngest being  11 and the oldest  in his mid-40s.One of them was 15-year-old William F. Cody , who later became famous as Buffalo Bill.  The riders’ average weight was 120 pounds and they worked for $100 a month, riding between 75 and 100 miles a day with fresh horses being provided every 10 to 15 miles.  The speed of the horses averaged 10 miles an hour. There were about 165 Pony Express stations along the route of almost 2,000 miles.The cost of a 1/2 ounce letter was $5 when the rides began but by the end it had dropped to $1 . The advent of the Civil War put an end to the Pony Express.

From time to time we catch a glimpse of the Platte , a heavily silted river that meanders across the plain in a series of S-curves. An early traveler said of it that it was ” bad to ford , destitute of fish , too dirty to bathe in and too thick to drink ” It is an apt description. At Ogallalla, we turn off the Interstate and take U.S Route 26 . A little later , we see a sign for Lake McConaghy ; after the unending vistas of the prairie ,  it is tempting to stop and feast our eyes on a body of blue water. We fight the urge and push on past Oshkosh, Lisco, Broadwater and Bridgeport. A few miles past Bridgeport , we catch sight of Chimney Rock , a tall sandstone spire rising three hundred feet above the prairie. For pioneers on the Oregon , California and Mormon trails it must have been a most welcome sight , a sign that they were one step closer to their destinations.The Native Americans who dwelt here called it ” Elk Penis ” but the white settlers gave it its present name. It is an impressive sight, visible for miles around. . There doesn’t seem to be any point going to the Visitor’s Center a couple of miles away. What more is there to see or learn?

We press on and reach Gering , where we plan to spend the night . Close by is Scotts Bluff , a massive topographic formation that reaches a height of 800 feet above the prairie floor. It is an impressive sight , second only to Chimney Rock in its significance to pioneers. We debate whether we should visit it or leave it for the morning . Then we realize that it is already past 5PM and that the visitor’s center is closed. Besides ,we are tired. Secretly pleased that we don’t have to make a decision, we  check in at a convenient motel in Gering . After a refreshing shower,  we go to the nearest fast food joint that we can find, a Subway,  and dine on a couple of footlongs  ( BMT for me , teriyaki chicken for her) with all the fixings, washed down with Diet Coke . Sometimes , the effort of finding a good restaurant is too much.  Scotts Bluff can wait till the morrow. It’s been a long day.

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The Armchair Traveler in Nebraska – I

At least in Eastern newspapers , there are fewer references to Nebraska than to any other state in America . Back in 1970-71 , when the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers  won consecutive national football titles under Bob Devaney , the state did get some ink but, since then , it seems to have fallen off the map.

I began my exploration of Nebraska by checking how the state got its name and why Nebraskans are known as Cornhuskers.

Nebraska is a variation of Nebrathka ,a Otoe Indian word meaning ” flat water ” , a reference to the Platte River. The Platte is  an extensive river system , an important source of water but  too shallow for navigation ; it has been memorably described as ” a mile wide and an inch deep”.  As for the term Cornhuskers , it was initially  used to describe Iowans, corn being the primary crop in Iowa. Nebraskans were originally known as Bugeaters ( after the bull bats that infest Nebraska’s plains) and one can’t blame them for wanting a change . Iowans preferred the name Hawkeyes and, around 1900 , Nebraska began to be known as the Cornhusker state.

Nebraska is one of the Southern Great Plains states : though , when I hear of the Great Plains States , it is Kansas and Oklahoma that come to mind , not Nebraska .Likewise, I don’t associate Indians ( i.e Native Americans) with Nebraska. In fact, several Indian tribes including the Pawnee , the Sioux  and  the Blackfeet ranged all over  Nebraska. Beginning in the 1840′s , the flood tide of emigrants overwhelmed the Indian tribes . Ravaged by smallpox , their food source( bison) slaughtered almost to extinction , their lands expropriated (“ bought” by the U.S government for an average 10 cents an acre), the Indians  were confined to reservations . Attracted by the  prospect of virtually free land, land hungry pioneers  crossed the Great Plains annually in thousands of wagons . Many of them pushed  on to Oregon and California , but some settled in the great Plains . The Oregon Trail goes latitudinally across Nebraska and many of those who settled there came from Pennsylvania via Ohio, Indiana and Illinois . Europeans ( Germans , Ukranians ) also added to the mix , the  Germans from Russia being particularly welcome  because they were used to farming grasslands.

My virtual trip through Nebraska begins in Omaha .

Not owning any Berkshire -Hathaway stock , I can’t attend native son Warren Buffet’s annual shareholders meeting . No matter. There are several other places in Omaha that  I’d like to visit, chief among them the Henry Doorly Zoo and Aquarium . I’m not a big fan of zoos ; they evoke childhood memories of seeing  sad-eyed animals ceaselessly pacing their cramped cages. Modern zoos are different though and the Henry Doorly is one of the best. The main attractions for me are the Lied Jungle ( showcasing wildlife from the world’s rainforests) , The Desert Dome ( the worlds largest indoor desert housed under the world’s largest glazed geodesic dome ,with desert life from South Africa , Australia and the Sonoran desert  ) , Operation Madagascar ( featuring the Lemur Walkway ), Kingdoms of the Night  ( the world’s largest Nocturnal Exhibit), Hubbard Gorilla Valley, Hubbard Orangutang Forest and the Scott Aquarium ( featuring a 70 – foot Shark tunnel that we walk through as the Sharks swim on the other side of the glass overhead).  The Henry Doorly is spread out over 130 acres so we take a break at the Lozier IMax theater and watch a 3D presentation , Dinosaurs Alive .

Pleasantly tuckered out , we’d drive to The Drover , a steakhouse-restaurant  famous for its whiskey soaked steaks. Steaks are marinated for 15 minutes after the order is placed ,so we sip on lemon drop martinis while we wait . My  14 0z. Whiskey Soaked Rib Eye and my wife’s 7 oz. Whiskey Soaked Strip Steak are excellent , reminding us why Omaha is famous for its steaks. However , as a suburbanite accustomed to buying neatly packaged meat in supermarkets , I am uncomfortable with the thought that ,not far away ,live cattle are being auctioned off at a price per head roughly equal to that of our two steak dinners .

Our next day in Omaha is  busy  . We start out by driving to Boys Town , SW of Omaha.  It was founded in 1917 by a young Irish priest , Father Flanagan , who grew discouraged with his work with the homeless in Omaha. He started out with a single boarding house orphanage that became Father Flanagan’s Home for Boys but has since grown into a national organization  that has helped over 700,000 children . Father Flanagan and his cause became famous thanks to the 1938 movie ” Boys Town ” starring Spencer Tracy in an award-winning performance. A CD driving tour does an excellent job of educating visitors on the history of this wonderful organization .

Our next stop is the Durham Museum on S. 10th Street where we make a beeline for the original soda fountain in the Union Station exhibit . Fortified by a malted and an all-beef hot dog we stroll through two exhibits of particular interest . The first is the Baright Home & Family Gallery ,cut-away exhibits of typical homes during the period 1880-1940. The other is  the Davidson Gallery with its exhibits of railroad cars , steam locomotives and Mack trucks . Seeing the old stem locomotives brings back memories of waiting at railroad crossings , listening to the long drawn out whoo- whoos as the engines went by pulling a train of railroad cars . Today’s Acela is sleek and fast and infinitely cleaner than those old coal driven monsters but it doesn’t evoke a sense of fondness. With fewer and fewer of us travelling by train , I wonder what today’s kids think about an exhibit like this.

Pressed for time , we nevertheless spend a couple of hours at the  Joslyn Art Museum downtown . It has an excellent collection of masterpieces by Renaissance artists ( Titian , El Greco, ,Veronese , Van Ruisdael  et al) , Impressionist painters ( Pissarro, Renoir and Monet ) and American artists  ( AlbertBierstadt, Thomas Hart Benton , Grant Wood , Jackson Pollock and others). Wandering through gallery 16, I am brought up short by a sculpture by Subodh Gupta , an Indian artist. His untitled work  is a wall mounted montage of stainless steel tiffin carriers ( dabbas) and kitchen utensils jammed into a circular frame . Who says Omaha doesn’t move with the times?

That evening , our last in Omaha , we stroll along the cobbled streets of Old Market . After we have had our fill of quaint shops , we repair to the Twisted Fork  Bar and Grill for a brew ( Moose Drool draft , Trout Slayer Ale) and a brace of Chuck Wagon Chicken Pot Pies. And then back to the hotel to plan our trip to Lincoln and points west before we nod off.

Afterthoughts : 1)We who have always lived in cities tend to think of the heartland as bland and uninteresting . Two days in Omaha have already taught me  that ‘s simply not true.

2) Isn’t it amusing how focused we are on being ” The World’s Largest ____”? At the Henry Doorly Zoo , there were no less than three attractions that bill themselves thus .

NEXT : Lincoln , Grand Island , Scott’s Bluff and points west

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The Armchair Traveler Plans a Trip Around America

The curse of the traveler is that he is never done .As much as he has traveled ,  there are still more places that he wants to see and that he knows he will never get to. Besides , those places that he has visited : can he really say that he knows them ? I spent a week in Paris and it was wonderful , but there were many Paris attractions that I couldn’t visit and that I would have liked to.Also , places are completely transformed over the years ; Paris in 1977 was very different from the Paris of today.Again , when we visited London thirty years ago , we saw all the historical sites but  The London Eye did not exist ; neither did Canary Wharf and all those trendy restaurants that I read about now. Still , I’ve seen many different countries , more than most , and I can’t complain .

In the U.S, I ‘ve ‘seen’ about half the 50 states , meaning I’ve stayed at least one night in each of them . I’ve lived in or made multiple visits to only five of them : New York , New Jersey , California , Massachusetts and Florida. Once again , this is more than most have done but I am not satisfied . The United States is a fascinating country and it has many, many interesting things to see . I am  not hung up on the idea of history as being bound up with monarchs , palaces,  bloody battles and ancient civilizations . I am interested in how this nation came together , how people in different parts of the country live and work , factories, food , natural beauty, local history and oddities. Since my time is limited and since an actual trip across the country would only enable me to scratch the surface of what I’d like to know , the best way to indulge my curiosity is to plan a virtual trip around the country. With the resources of the internet , maps ( I love maps !) and books I should be able to get a more complete picture of the country than I could otherwise.

How long will it take and where do I begin ?

Well , I’m not going to put everything on hold because of this armchair journey. I’m going to pursue my other interests and write about them even as I research the U.S. My goal is to ” complete ” one state once every two-three weeks on average and finish all fifty by the end of 2015. It will be difficult because I am easily distracted and go off in many directions but it will be an exercise in discipline to finish in  time  ( and to do a good job of it ).

As for a starting point , the temptation is to begin on one of the coasts but that would be a mistake . I am already familiar with New York and California and , besides, these are two of the most interesting states . If I were to start with California I might spend six months reading and writing about it . Same goes for Texas or Florida or Massachusetts or New York.Far better to start with states that I’ve never been to , am unlikely to ever visit in person and do not know much about. There are many of them but , after some thought , I’ve made my choice . It is a state which almost never makes the news , for any reason , good or bad. ( You can try and guess which one it is before my “journey” starts two weeks from now). After that , I will try to keep in the same geographical area though a certain amount of leapfrogging is inevitable. Some states will be covered in one or two posts but others will need many more. I’ll write of things that interest me about the state, a bit of its history , and sights I’d like to see if I were to actually travel through it.

It should be fun .

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Quick Food in Tokyo

Except for one or two meals , we did not go to any fancy restaurants during our week’s stay in Tokyo. Most of our meals came ready made  from Konbinis ( convenience stores) or from ordinary luncheonettes and cafes. Lunch is reasonably priced even in places where dinner is expensive and, besides, the jet lag meant that we were sleepy by early evening . Lunch therefore was our big meal.
What follows are our experiences in Roppongi, Akasaka, Asakusa and Shibuya ; I presume that these districts are not materially different from the rest of Tokyo when it comes to lunchtime . We noticed that Tokyo has many more eateries than other (foreign) countries.In some areas, very eighth or tenth store seems to be an eatery of some sort. Most of them are small , serving between 15 and 30 patrons at a time . The menus are usually in both Japanese and English and contain illustrations of every dish along with its price. Restaurant staff are friendly and obliging and ,though only a few have a smattering of English , the illustrated menus enable one to negotiate the ordering of the meal without trouble . Lunchtime in Tokyo is between 12 noon and 1 PM and it is not staggered. So , on weekdays , during lunch break, there is a line of people waiting outside the restaurant for a seat.It’s a good indicator of which establishment has the best food. Better to time your lunch after 1 PM when the eateries empty out and the service is not so rushed.

Tokyo is not as cosmopolitan as New York ( Which city is ?) but it was more diverse than we had expected . In addition to restaurants serving Japanese food , there are many Chinese restaurants , a fair number of Indian, Turkish/ Middle Eastern, and Italian ones. Lunch usually costs between 800 and 1,200 yen ( approx $10- $ 15) and portions , while adequate , are a little smaller than one is accustomed to in the U.S. This is particularly true of restaurants serving Japanese food. Portions in Chinese restaurants are bigger ; Japanese accquaintances tell us that when they want to ‘fill up’ , they go to Chinese restaurants . BTW , prices include tips but not tax.

Unable to read the restaurant names , relying as we did on pictorial representations, we initially went a Chinese restaurant thinking that it was Japanese . It was only when the food arrived that we recognized Ma Po Tofu and the noodle dishes as Chinese rather than Japanese. The Chinese food was about average in quality but was marred by the use of copious amounts of MSG.

One thing that surprised us about Japanese meals was the relative scarcity of vegetables . The Japanese eat fewer vegetables than do the Chinese or even the Koreans . One explanation given to us was that the rice lobby in Japan is very powerful ; rice farmers enjoy generous subsidies. As a result , most of the arable land is used for rice cultivation , very little for other crops . The person who told me this also said that , in recent times , rice subsidies have been slashed because of budgetary constraints and , as a result , more vegetables are being grown and consumed . Be that as it may , we noticed that most Japanese meals are heavy on the rice and are usually accompanied by fish , eggs , seaweed, a container of soup and a small portion of pickled vegetables( tsukemono). Unlike American fast food restaurants , where the trend is to have everything — pizza, fried chicken , burgers — on the menu , the Japanese eateries believe in specialization . Thus, there are joints that specialize in yakitori , others that specialize in tempura and still others that stick to sushi and sashimi. Sometimes the specialization goes to unbelievable lengths . Mario Batali , writing in the New York Times , goes into ecstasies over a small yakitori joint under the train tracks near Yurakucho station . It specializes in yakitori made from odd parts of the chicken. In addition to the usual items like skin , gizzards , wings and thighs , it has delicacies such as the inner thighs , breast plate , cartilage,the pope’s nose and the oysters hidden along the center of the backbone . Batali’s favorite was the cartilage attached to the lower leg-thigh connection , basically the chicken kneecaps . Batali describes them as crunchy and firm , succulent under the light char and heavenly when dusted with sansho or sprinkled with yuzu. We never made it to Batali’s yakitori discovery and , unfortunately we never even ate an izikaya , essentially a small joint serving beer , yakitori and other foods that go well with beer to patrons seated at a counter.It was just too cold and our Tokyo stay too short.

We did however go to the Tokyu Food Show in Shibuya and it was a wonderful experience. Inspite of its name, this is a permanent establishment in an underground mall in Shibuya. There are dozens, scores, of stalls each serving their specialty: Seafood , meats ( prepared and raw) ,yakitori, tempura , sushi, sashimi , salads and baked goods. The amount of food on display is staggering , the arrangements indescribably beautiful .The bakeries in particular are amazing , the perfection of their confections simply enthralling. If you are in Tokyo and you love food , the Tokyu Food Show is a must. We had a set lunch ( 900yen , approx $ 11 ) at one of the eateries sprinkled among the shops . It was our first experience of ocha-zuke . In addition to the usual bowl of rice topped with fish or meat , there was the ubiquitous rolled egg omlette, some seaweed and a small kettle of fragrant , delicately flavored tea( o-cha) meant to be poured on the rice. One interesting sidelight that portions could be ordered small , medium or large but they were all the same price . The only difference was the amount of rice ; it’s just that the restaurateurs did not want you to waste anything . No problem there ; we cleaned our bowls .

The pathway leading to the Sensoji shrine is lined with shops and very near the shrine itself are a number of food stalls. We had some yakitori there ( beef , pork , squid and shrimp) , but it was a disappointment . The skewers were dunked in boiling water to cook the meat quicker, then seared on a grill and doused with yakitori sauce . It resulted in a chewy unpleasant texture to the meat . We’d have done better to try the takoyaki at the neighboring stall . They were small balls of dough contained chopped octopus and cooked in a special mould. Too bad we’d already eaten our fill at the yakitori stall.

Many Japanese officegoers pick up their lunches at Lawson , Family Mart , Seven -Eleven or similar konbinis. The set lunches are attractively dispalyed in plastic containers and there is a wide variety of choices. There is often an assortment of soups bubbling away in cauldrons . In winter , there is also a large cauldron of strong broth in which are cooking large pieces of vegetables , dumplings or winter delicacies. Customers fill up their containers with the broth and as many pieces as they desire ( they are about 80 yen apiece) .

We didn’t eat anyhing other than Chinese or Japanese food during our week’s stay in Japan. Towards the end, I found myself getting a little tired of the fare. I know that I experienced only a narrow segment of Japanese cuisine and that there are many other things that it has to offer. However , I do not think as highly of it as I do of Vietnamese or even Korean cuisine. Korean food has the strong flavors that appeal to my taste buds and Vietnamese food ( pho , bahn mi , spring rolls , over-rice dishes ) I could be happy with as a regular diet.

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A Hotel Room in Tokyo

Earlier this month , we’d been on a one week trip to Tokyo to attend an award ceremony and for the first two days we were put up at the Tokyu Stay, an extended stay hotel in Akasaka. A thirteen or fourteen story building ,the Tokyu Stay’s frontage was deceptively small , but inside it opened out with 200 rooms arranged around a central courtyard. It was roughly comparable to a Holiday Inn in the U.S but there were several interesting differences.

Sizewise , the room was definitely smaller , perhaps 3/4 that of a U.S hotel room . Not surprising , because the Japanese are smaller in stature. We found it perfectly adequate , if a l-i-t-t-t-le bit cramped. However , there were many , many things about it that we loved.

The first was the mattresses and pillows , which had just the right amount of firmness. In the states , I find the mattresses too soft . Some may equate that with luxury but , as for me , I am not comfortable sleeping on them  . I also loved the temperature controls . At the Tokyu Stay , the room thermostat allowed  guests to adjust the room temperature  to the exact temperature they desired .After a bit of mental math , converting degrees Farenheit to degrees Centigrade , we did just that and were comfortable throughout the night .

My biggest applause though was reserved for the toilet amenities where we got our first experience of the Japanese toilets we’d only read about . To begin with , the toilet seat was heated which , in the middle of winter , is a source of enormous well-being . Blessings  be on its inventor , surely one of the great benefactors of mankind. Blessings also on the head of the person(s) who invented the various controls on the Japanese toilet. Our toilet had a “shower” and a ” bidet” function . When the proper button was pressed , a strategically aimed jet of water cleansed one’s nether parts . Pressing another button halted the flow . These refinements enabled one to avoid using toilet paper ,if one so desired. This was an important consideration because the toilet paper in Japan , as in many other countries , is tissue thin and maddeningly non-absorbent.

One other thing we noticed about the bathroom amenities was that the body wash , shampoo , and conditioner were in large , refillable pump dispensers . A refreshing change from the dinky little dispensers in U.S hotel rooms . But then , Japanese hotel guests do not think that the room price entitles them to make away with th the soap, shampoo, etc .

Our hotel stay entitled us to breakfast and we were given  breakfast coupons for the adjoining Jonathan’s Cafe , part of a Tokyo  restaurant chain. There we had a choice of set breakfasts , four of them Western style , four Japanese style . I had the Western # 1 … scrambled eggs, one  slice of toast ( 3/4 inch thick), a paper-thin slice of ham , one sausage , coffee and juice with free refills. Both the ham and the sausage were very tasty but it would have been more enjoyable if the food had been hot instead of merely lukewarm . Even the coffee wasn’t hot as we have come to expect. However ,  the waitress was so obliging and polite  we didn’t feel like asking her to warm up everything.

One other thing we noticed at the restaurant is that everything was rationed out ; there was no waste . Patrons got one sausage , one slice of ham , one slice of toast, one pat of butter and  one little container of jam . (Elsewhere, we noticed that even paper napkins and tissues were doled out very sparingly .)  A welcome change from the U.S where there is so much waste at the all-you-can eat buffet tables. It also explains why Tokyo is so clean and litter free.

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Jet Lag , And the Middle of the Night

Travelling from one coast to another in the U.S doesn’t discommode one much ; a three-hour time difference is only a minor botheration and is easily forgotten in a day or two . It is when the time difference is eight hours or more that jet lag really kicks in .
The earlier time we had been to Japan , about 12 years ago , we never really got over the jet lag . There is a 13-1/2 hour difference ( 14-1/2 during Daylight Savings Time ) between the U.S and Japan and it completely upset our natural rhythms. Every day that we were in Japan , we would feel sleepy around 3 or 4 in the afternoon and retire for a nap . The next thing we knew we had slept through dinner and it was 1:30 or 2 in the morning. Then we found ourself unable to sleep and spent the time until morning tossing and turning in bed.
Earlier this month , we went to Japan again and we were dreading the 14-hour flight and the jet lag . Surprisingly , neither was bad as we remembered. The flight passed reasonably quickly as I watched a couple of movies and did a dozen crossword puzzles ; even the jet lag proved manageable . This time when I woke up at 2 in the morning I got out of bed and stationed myself at the window . From there, I had a view of the side street and it was eerily pleasurable looking down on the sleeping city.There is a feeling of omniscience ; as if one is above it all . Seeing everything spread out even as one remains invisible , one feels almost godlike , or at least preternatural.
Our room was on the sixth floor , high enough to look over the adjacent buildings but not so high that I couldn’t make out the details on the deserted street. Night , as we have all experienced , softens everything . It hides the griminess , smooths out the rough edges. Not that Tokyo is grimy or dirty. It is undoubtedly the cleanest big city that I’ve seen . The street that I was looking down on was completely deserted , the shops shuttered. There was a surprising amount of light both from the street lamps and from the exterior lights of buildings . In the near distance were some office skyscrapers , some of their windows still lit up.
As I watched , one man walked down the center of the side street. What was he doing up and about at 2:30 in the morning? It was too late for him to be going home, and yet too early to be going to work . Then , at 4 AM , there began the first stirrings of life. Two men walking side by side . Then a cyclist . Then two. At 6, the first shopkeeper put up the shutters and started sweeping the street in front of his shop . Time to go to bed and try to snatch a few winks .
A hotel room can be a lonely place if one is alone . I remember that about 30 years ago , the father of one of our close friends was travelling all over the U.S and I picked him up ,as arranged,at the Port Authority Bus Terminal in New York City. He was visibly glad to see me and afterwards , relaxing with a Scotch and soda at home , he explained why . He was in his Las Vegas hotel room , he said , trying to sleep , when a thought suddenly crossed his mind ” If I were to die now , how would my family even come to know ? ” Though 77 , he was in very good health and there was no reason for him to think like that but that is what a hotel room does . Sleeping in a strange bed , not knowing anyone in the city makes you feel lonely , vulnerable . Luckily for me , I wasn’t as my wife had accompanied me on this trip.

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Acres of Diamonds

This really happened.

There was a young girl who was born  in Los Angeles and  lived a very circumscribed life . Her family’s circumstances were modest and she  was never able to travel as she would  have liked to. She reached adulthood without ever having left the place of her birth. All that changed when she met a nice young man , fell in love with him and got married . For their honeymoon, they went to the Dominican Republic and she simply loved it. The sand , the sun , the palms ,the beaches,  the luxurious resort they stayed in … it was so wonderful , so different from everything she had experienced. Even after they got back from their honeymoon , she kept thinking about their trip and re-living it in her mind.

Several months later , as their first wedding anniversary drew close , her husband asked her  where she would like to celebrate it . She told him she would love to go to the Turks and Caicos Islands. He checked it out but the Turks and Caicos Islands are a very expensive proposition. Regretfully , he had to tell her that it would not be possible .

This girl’s story reminded me of ” Acres of Diamonds “, a speech made famous a century ago by Russell Conwell ( 1843-1925), an American Baptist , minister, orator, lawyer and philanthropist. Conwell was the founder and first president of Temple University but his lasting claim to fame is this speech which he delivered more than 6,000 times to audiences all around  the world. In it he told the story of a wealthy Persian, al Hafed, who owned a large and prosperous farm. Al Hafed  led a contented life until a chance  meeting with a holy man fired a  desire for even greater riches. From this holy man , he heard of diamonds and how they could make a man wealthy beyound imagination. This priest told him  “…if you will find a river that runs over white sand between high mountains… in those sands you will always see diamonds., plenty of them; all you have to do is just go and find them, then you have them.” Hearing this al Hafed sold his farm, collected his money , left his family with a neighbor, and  set out in search of diamonds. Many , many years he wandered, searching , searching , searching for diamonds … alas,  without success. Finally , one day when he was an old man, clad in rags,, his money  gone , wretched in his poverty, he could stand it no more . He cast himself into the sea and put an end to his misery.

Meanwhile , the man who had bought al Hafed’s farm took his camel to a brook on his property. As the  camel drank his fill  , he saw that the sunlight was glinting off some rocks in the shallows. The man picked one of them up and found that it was not a rock but a diamond. Nor was it the only one . Had al Hafed remained at home and dug in his own  garden, he would have unearthed  priceless gems in every shovelful of dirt. Instead of wretchedness , poverty and death , he would have found ” acres of diamonds”.

The moral of the story - and the gist of Conwell’s speech-  is that one need not look elsewhere for opportunity, achievement or fortune. The resources to achieve all good things in life are to be found in one’s own backyard.

To get back to the girl from Los Angeles: I can quite understand how her trip to the Dominican Republic fueled her desire to repeat the experience . I’ve been to the Dominican Republic myself and stayed in one of those all -inclusive resorts. It’s a wonderful vacation and I can fully empathise with that young lady. However , what do the Turks and Caicos Islands that cannot be enjoyed much closer to home  ? Warm weather , beaches , palm trees , sun and sand , blue seas … you do need to go to the Turks and Caicos for these things . In California itself there are several resorts where you can enjoy all these for much less than you would pay in the T& C. I remember staying at the Loews Resort outside of San Diego shortly after we had returned from a trip to the Caribbean. Honestly , there was hardly any difference between the two experiences. I do hope that the young lady scaled back her dreams , temporarily, and had a great vacation in California itself.

She is not alone in her delusions . Distance lends enchantment and many of us make the same mistake , dreaming of a European vacation when we could be enjoying ourselves right here in America . In California and New York State alone there is so much diversity in climate and scenery that you never need to venture out of those states to have a great time .  Not far from New York City is Bear Mountain where each fall Oktoberfest is celebrated . The ruggedly beautiful  scenery there reminds Germans of landscapes back home and not a few German – Americans make their home in the area . I remember going to the Bear Mountain Inn , thirty and more  years ago,  dining on wiener schnitzel and drinking good German beer while a group of celebrants at the bar, togged out in liederhosen ,and blouses, and caps with feathers stuck in them , linked arms and sang along to the sounds of an oompah-oompah band. Maybe not quite like  Bavaria but close enough. As for California, it  has beaches , deserts , ski slopes , redwoods and great natural beauty.And English is understood everywhere , an advantage that cannot be properly evaluated unless one has tried to get directions in a foreign country  like China.

Russell Conwell was right . There are acres of diamonds waiting to be discovered right here in our own backyard.

.

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How Many Countries Have You Been To ?

Recently , I watched a puff piece about a young internet entrepreneur who had already made his pile at age 36. After showing off his mega-mansion , its rooms crammed with his  possessions , he began to talk about how he loved to travel. Five more countries , he said and he would have been to every country in the world.His boasts left me unmoved. He seems to view travel merely as a way to keep score , to one-up others . All those countries that he visited — I wonder how much time he spent and  what he saw of each . I am not jealous of his travel exploits. I don’t care if I never visit Somalia … or Iraq… or dozens of other countries that I have no interest in.

There is no point in visiting a country just to say ” I’ve been there , done that“  as many tourists do. There has to be a purpose ,  a particular interest to satisfy . My friend Blair is keenly interested in church architecture and wherever he goes he makes it a point to visit notable cathedrals and churches after reading up on them . Interests don’t have to so lofty; one man I heard of has a passion for soups and every country he goes to he samples its notable soups. In my case , I’m keenly interested in food and I like to visit food markets and sample street foods in the countries I go to. My other interest is  trying to understand the lives of people in other countries , other cultures ,and I spend a lot of time just observing the local people . This is more absorbing for me than visiting museums and palaces ,though I do enough of that too. After coming back from one of these trips , I spend time reading up on the history of the country (countries) we have visited and trying to cook at home some of the dishes we have enjoyed abroad.

I count myself fortunate that I have been able to see 21 countries, some more thoroughly than others. ( I don’t keep score and I had to sit down with an atlas to come up with that number). I didn’t include countries like Israel  or Pakistan where we stopped in transit and I never got off the plane. I have only included countries that I actually stayed in for at least three  nights. I realize three nights is not much time to spend in a country but one has to come up with some sort of rule. No matter whether one stays in a country for three days or a week or a month , one can never say that one really knows the country, particularly if it is a large diverse country like China or India. Heck , I’ve lived in the United States for most of my life and I can’t say that I know it. There are still things about it that surprise me from time to time.

Twenty-one may not sound like a large number but then I’m not out to set any records. These are the countries that I really wanted to go to.Most Americans never go to another country ( unless they’ve emigrated from somewhere else) . Those that have been to another country are likely to have gone  to Canada or Mexico or one of the Caribbean islands ( on their honeymoon). It is not that Americans are incurious ; it’s just that America is so large. Europeans can travel to a dozen countries without going too far from home ;we Americans can cover the distance from one end of Europe to another and not leave America.  Then again , foreign travel is an expensive undertaking particularly in these tough economic times. If I were to hazard a guess , I’d estimate that the median number of countries that Americans have traveled to is about ten , many of them done in a single “ If this is Tuesday, it must be Belgium“  tour .

The countries that I’ve been to are as follows :

Asia: China ,India, Japan , Turkey

Europe : England , France, Greece,Italy , Spain , Switzerland

North America : Canada, Mexico, USA

Caribbean Islands:  Bermuda ,Dominican Republic, Jamaica , Antigua, St. Lucia, Netherlands Antilles( St. Marten).

Australia , New Zealand.

I haven’t been to any countries in either South America or Africa ; the only countries that interest me in those two continents are Brazil and South Africa.

Of the countries that I’ve been to , the ones I’ve enjoyed most are Japan , England , Turkey and China ; Japan because it has always fascinated me  and England because I read so much about it. We really enjoyed our stay in Istanbul and I’d like to go there again and see the rest of the country. China was amazing and we liked what we saw of Beijing, Shanghai and Xian but ,as for going there again, I don’t know.

There are some other countries  that I’d like to go to before I re-visit those we’ve already been to. They are , in order: South Korea, Thailand, Vietnam , Ireland, Scotland, Singapore, Hong Kong, Barbados, Sweden , Norway, Holland and  Brazil. It’s likely that by this time next year I will have visited South Korea as part of a trip to Japan to visit our daughter and I  hope to make another trip to South East Asia in which I explore Thailand , Singapore , Malaysia and  Hong Kong.  As for the rest , who knows ? I’ve already seen more than most people do in their lives.

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