tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18985001282738997472024-03-14T10:18:15.012-07:00Escape From New YorkMoses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-31691927444265310582013-07-19T14:59:00.001-07:002018-09-05T09:41:41.714-07:00My Offer on Access to Abandoned Observation Decks <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Abandoned Observation
Deck Offer:</span></u></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Contact - HiddenCitiesBook@gmail.com</b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://narrative.ly/hidden-history/prohibited-panoramas/">Abandoned observation decks</a> are my favorite things in the world. If you can get me legit access to a previously unvisited
abandoned observation deck you get:</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">1) A
personalized signed copy of “<a href="http://mosesgates.com/">Hidden Cities</a>.”</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">2) A
.pdf and/or paper copy (two feet by three feet) of the secret map of the
Parisian Catacombs.</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">3) A
personalized catacomb tour if we happen to both be in Paris at the same time.</i></b><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">4) A free writer for whatever story on the place you might want to do (Curbed, I'm looking at you)!</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Unvisited
abandoned observation decks are:</span></u></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">40
Wall Street (Trump Building), Downtown.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Met
Life Tower, Madison Square.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Riverside
Church Carillon, Morningside Heights.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Torch of
the Statue of Liberty.</span></div>
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<br />
<i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">These are just the one in NYC. If you can get me to an abandoned observation deck in another city, definitely drop me a line)</span></i><br />
<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Other
places that are not technically abandoned observation decks, but are still
acceptable for this offer are:</span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">103rd
floor or antennae of the Empire State Building.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Roof
of the Met Life Building (former Pan Am building), north of Grand Central.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Any
interesting cupola, antennae, or spire</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Outdoor
roof of any building over 800 feet tall</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">The
tuned mass damper of the Citigroup building on Lexington Avenue</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Roof
of the tallest building in Staten Island (Castleton Park Apartments) or the
Bronx (Tracy Towers). </span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Top of
the Verrazano, Throgs Neck, Whitestone, or Ward’s Island Pedestrian Bridges. </span></div>
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Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-40012574847116811292013-05-05T12:40:00.001-07:002013-12-03T08:53:18.637-08:00Latest Writing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>From other publications - blog below</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://forward.com/articles/172073/encountering-a-nazi-relic-in-odessas-fabled-tunnel/?p=all" target="_blank">Jewish Daily Forward.</a> Encountering history on the tunnels of Odessa (excerpt from Hidden Cities).<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/industry-news/tip-sheet/article/56574-10-hidden-places-around-the-world.html" target="_blank">Publisher's Weekly.</a> Legal, but interesting, travel destinations around the world.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://whatever.scalzi.com/2013/03/21/the-big-idea-moses-gates/" target="_blank">The Big Idea</a> (John Scalzi blog). Memoir writing - an explanation.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/moses-gates-/the-hidden-side-to-the-wo_b_2902945.html" target="_blank">Huffington Post</a>. Hidden side to the World's Cities (excerpt from Hidden Cities). <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://narrative.ly/" target="_blank"><u>From Narrative.ly</u></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://narrative.ly/hidden-history/prohibited-panoramas/" target="_blank">Prohibited Panoramas</a> - the beautiful abandoned observation decks of New York City<br />
<a href="http://narrative.ly/explorers-of-new-york/on-tract/" target="_blank">On Tract</a> - some interesting stories from some out-of-the-way census tracts<br />
<a href="http://narrative.ly/up-all-night/tales-from-the-night/" target="_blank">Riding the Green Wave</a> - my favorite cab ride ever (you've got to scroll down)<br />
<a href="http://narrative.ly/matchmakers/tales-from-the-dating-scene/" target="_blank">Heartbreaker</a> - what not to do on a first date (again, you've got to scroll down)</div>
Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-25985448039127954392013-03-06T05:30:00.003-08:002013-12-03T08:52:43.375-08:00Odessa Catacombs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hey folks - you can check out an excerpt of <a href="http://www.mosesgates.com/">Hidden Cities</a> about the Odessa underground <a href="http://forward.com/articles/172073/encountering-a-nazi-relic-in-odessas-fabled-tunnel/">here in the Jewish Daily Forward</a> - also with Slideshow by <a href="http://undercity.org/">Steve Duncan</a>.</div>
Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-52980434569247340632012-04-01T23:03:00.003-07:002013-12-03T08:52:49.377-08:00The Beast of the North<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Every bridge has its charm, and each bridge has a story. But after a while, the types of bridges and types of climbs start to repeat themselves - scampering up cables of a suspension bridge, climbing ladders or stairs to the top of a lift structure, scaling the curved beams of an arch bridge. We've long since pretty much figured out the best bridge designs, and tend to stick with the tried and true - suspension, cable-stay, arch, and the various moveable bridges. There are few opportunities to climb a truly unique bridge. One of those opportunities involves a 124 year-old beast of a triple cantilever structure just outside of Edinburgh, Scotland.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFlIY-2q0-2RQa-NNiaI79WtPvuXu-PwwKybZGbJMyC0n8eVWj4i7fGWvLIwfTEIAaa0aTGlVDwTxK9LIHC99TmfAo2gKLtHh_uUI7HP2nZhzVBhdJnJJmMBPY7fcVLcVq9faYukiNOi7/s1600/IMG_1296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFlIY-2q0-2RQa-NNiaI79WtPvuXu-PwwKybZGbJMyC0n8eVWj4i7fGWvLIwfTEIAaa0aTGlVDwTxK9LIHC99TmfAo2gKLtHh_uUI7HP2nZhzVBhdJnJJmMBPY7fcVLcVq9faYukiNOi7/s640/IMG_1296.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
Some <a href="http://sleepycity.net/posts/148/Smitten-come-Smote-Edinburgh">members</a> <a href="http://siologen.livejournal.com/tag/bridges#post-siologen-358709">of</a> <a href="http://tender.is/the.night/forth.html" target="_blank">the</a> <a href="http://pridian.net/category/2/p/197">International</a> <a href="http://www.ninjito.com/2008-08-10/qx-fourth-1.jpg">Bridge</a> <a href="http://www.adventureworldwide.net/stories/going-forth" target="_blank">Brigade</a> had been up the north tower of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forth_Bridge" target="_blank">Firth of Forth rail bridge</a> previously, utilizing the scaffolding that had been in place for years while the bridge was being inspected, repaired, and painted by workers. I arrived with both the benefit and drawback of the scaffolding being some months gone. The benefit being the lack of workers at night. The drawback being that I had no idea how I was actually going to get up the thing. Still, I figured if I couldn't somehow find a way up this giant jungle gym of a bridge, I didn't have any business being in the International Bridge Brigade myself.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm3PKh2iGcwTe0-JMueYlLyaCGe8qcEGxJnwdHldtSru5d3nCyFyc7SwYakR6HyLlbDHzXNg9M2GQ1xqpDSRs7GHIEsE9jfQ319Yy2tQ4WMy7M1jANYVavgAUz8Y3eBwOWwwmSePEGdcMh/s1600/Forth+two.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm3PKh2iGcwTe0-JMueYlLyaCGe8qcEGxJnwdHldtSru5d3nCyFyc7SwYakR6HyLlbDHzXNg9M2GQ1xqpDSRs7GHIEsE9jfQ319Yy2tQ4WMy7M1jANYVavgAUz8Y3eBwOWwwmSePEGdcMh/s400/Forth+two.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://noclip.eu/">noclip.eu</a></td></tr>
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Luckily, I managed to hook up with a couple <a href="http://noclip.eu/the-red-monster-of-the-north/">locals</a> who had been eyeing the climb themselves. It ended up being a two-night affair, the second night being accompanied by my friend <a href="http://www.undercity.org/" target="_blank">Steve</a> who had just arrived in town that morning. We went for the south tower, and the road to the summit was truly a team excursion. I dare say if any piece of the puzzle had fallen through, I don't know if anyone would have gotten to the top. Local savvy and recon, bridge knowledge and climbing experience, everyone played their part, and I was very happy to play mine. It's always nice to be a bit more than just a tag-along on these types of trips abroad.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE5IQxNKyH_ClCWXXtOwMzEQUN1KEj0xF2YmYPChGxLcJiyL4Zumj_3Ps2iFUnSWuYfZUpS_p0YEFvmS1TM7C2jjR_2wZhEFJE9cBZ__12G0lyyrGAesxpkaqDGqiW7UfRlgnvHzU4KVrT/s1600/Forth+one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE5IQxNKyH_ClCWXXtOwMzEQUN1KEj0xF2YmYPChGxLcJiyL4Zumj_3Ps2iFUnSWuYfZUpS_p0YEFvmS1TM7C2jjR_2wZhEFJE9cBZ__12G0lyyrGAesxpkaqDGqiW7UfRlgnvHzU4KVrT/s400/Forth+one.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://noclip.eu/">noclip.eu</a></td></tr>
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The climb itself can best be summed up as what you might expect of climbing up a bridge over a North Sea estuary in Scotland in the middle of February. Not exactly a walk in the park, but the wind, mist, and drizzling rain only really made the photography a difficult endeavor, not the climb. And I wouldn't have wanted it another way. There is little like the feeling of mounting this Scottish beast with the wind and rain whipping around you and the Forth churning below.<br />
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The bridge itself is amazing. When large iron and steel structures started to be built in the late 1800s, many were heavily, heavily over-engineered. Nowadays we know how to do it. Sleek suspension and cable-stay bridges are the norm (witness, for instance, the lovely but perfectly standard 1964 <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forth_Road_Bridge" target="_blank">suspension road bridge</a> which also crosses the Forth a bit to the west). But back then you took no chances - especially in light of the recent <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tay_Bridge_disaster" target="_blank">collapse of the under-engineered Tay Bridge</a> - and reinforced everything up the wazoo, which results in the almost MC Escher-like structure of the bridge. A myriad of supports, latticework, beams, all going off at different angles with seemingly little rhyme or reason. Adding to the surrealness is the wide array of random accoutrements - staircases to nowhere, various ladders placed seemingly at random, catwalks which stop 30 feet from any useful end point.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Bc1PI88FmbhmQb_7RNxkRSip6PatHdg-CY7eOBlZu23xdPsRCdQKnQ3Ss7CJ3yzz1iGz5NS8sv4PA7JFjZOYknH-bxte096IPs3BUkFUqmyVqPqTZQDIlAebbd_l7GjUKQvFHa-HER_2/s1600/Forth+six.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Bc1PI88FmbhmQb_7RNxkRSip6PatHdg-CY7eOBlZu23xdPsRCdQKnQ3Ss7CJ3yzz1iGz5NS8sv4PA7JFjZOYknH-bxte096IPs3BUkFUqmyVqPqTZQDIlAebbd_l7GjUKQvFHa-HER_2/s400/Forth+six.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://noclip.eu/">noclip.eu</a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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But the most interesting thing isn't the resemblance to Escher - it's the resemblance to Gaudi. There are no right angles, no perfect rectangles. The entire structure is slightly flanged, giving the climb an eerie, extra-dimensional Alice-in-Wonderland feeling. Take a look at the picture below. You'll notice the bottom of the beams are closer together than the tops. Walking up inside them, I went from having to crouch to avoid hitting my head at the bottom, to needing to climb several feet in order to hoist myself up to the summit at the top. This also leads to a skewing of perspective that, I imagine, is responsible for the kind of optical illusion you see below, where the beams look much steeper than they actually are (it's a 30 degree angle at most).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9o6vkbyGnB_JUwx4cYidlKKtxHBDevxLrE6c3O79FdEglCoPkJjYwJFIkYMkTNEWL4fl7uBVrCBlBehrxNRxbgodPap9CpJ3KuFQFOykADNLQ50VSyEwt42Owztx-U-2TRrfZXVGYhzr/s1600/Forth+eight.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9o6vkbyGnB_JUwx4cYidlKKtxHBDevxLrE6c3O79FdEglCoPkJjYwJFIkYMkTNEWL4fl7uBVrCBlBehrxNRxbgodPap9CpJ3KuFQFOykADNLQ50VSyEwt42Owztx-U-2TRrfZXVGYhzr/s400/Forth+eight.png" width="320" /></a></div>
And when we reached the top of the structure, we noticed another aberration, another example of everything about the structure being just a bit off. The top beams aren't flat, instead being slightly titled outward. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn318rXqO5DAX_JRM010yyrOBmqmnXjzOfrRV_4xxQ8T1Z0qSEp5hKlHqu9apPl5xMbFNXzyEBMNjyf9HZIVWf78i8IuoOvzetFVxGStMr8DCCutWG4DUfHOmL76cQLOtjxaZ9jTyU-yDa/s1600/Forth+five.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn318rXqO5DAX_JRM010yyrOBmqmnXjzOfrRV_4xxQ8T1Z0qSEp5hKlHqu9apPl5xMbFNXzyEBMNjyf9HZIVWf78i8IuoOvzetFVxGStMr8DCCutWG4DUfHOmL76cQLOtjxaZ9jTyU-yDa/s400/Forth+five.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://noclip.eu/">noclip.eu</a></td></tr>
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While getting to top is always the main goal, as might be imagined from such a huge, over-engineered structure, there's a lot more to the bridge than just the summit. Catwalks under the railway, empty worker rooms, a 40-foot stone tower guarding the entrance to the crossing, and other various nooks and crannies like the one below. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePHOlnVCnkuT9EOZ3SLG2ZeWmGVqb9GKKEUCpXqUN4msPG9vRK891oNXRbVTZ1rmtqSNRcziaM0uTSXnBnd6xsn_eaJODaUDMdfT3NgmwxKaYhKipRr7vb4J0vJ6pEQ1CLLv_L67uo4PL/s1600/forth+seven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePHOlnVCnkuT9EOZ3SLG2ZeWmGVqb9GKKEUCpXqUN4msPG9vRK891oNXRbVTZ1rmtqSNRcziaM0uTSXnBnd6xsn_eaJODaUDMdfT3NgmwxKaYhKipRr7vb4J0vJ6pEQ1CLLv_L67uo4PL/s400/forth+seven.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://noclip.eu/">noclip.eu</a></td></tr>
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We heard the morning's first train rumble over the bridge from in here, and it was time to go. All in all a wonderful time on a truly unique and historic structure. I highly encourage you to check it our for yourself. </div>
Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-32792065883884610052011-09-19T17:59:00.000-07:002013-12-03T08:53:12.208-08:00Erimus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've had a bit of fascination with Middlesbrough for about 8 years now. It's a random story - my introduction to soccer was when I spent the summer of 2002 in Spain, while the World Cup was happening. My first game I watched saw Gaizka Mendieta hit the winning penalty against Ireland. The combination of that and his super-cool name (Basque), saw him become my favorite player, and when he joined Middlesbrough a couple years later, I started following their soccer team. I was pretty excited when, after meeting a fellow explorer here in New York, I learned she was from nearby Hartlepool (a lovely town in its own right). On a recent trip across the pond, I jumped at the chance to head up to the Northeast and finally pay the town a proper visit. And by "proper visit" I of course mean "climbing stuff in the middle of the night."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7YvvhgOLii4I3TfM-KIwZpdyypRvnuTTnc32_uWWclr-rFP-L1jmC-j2tk_c-8b9oZdrQZiC9dSC2mdzOpaJ0gn0Ayiv-UIgNR-EL1D1baaEOndXbRdePma6r_xzq3eMDovM-Rt0039zE/s1600/IMG_0303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" m="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7YvvhgOLii4I3TfM-KIwZpdyypRvnuTTnc32_uWWclr-rFP-L1jmC-j2tk_c-8b9oZdrQZiC9dSC2mdzOpaJ0gn0Ayiv-UIgNR-EL1D1baaEOndXbRdePma6r_xzq3eMDovM-Rt0039zE/s640/IMG_0303.JPG" true="" width="480" /> </a></div>
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"Erimus" translates out to "We will be" in Latin. It's an interesting motto for a town whose best days are generally considered behind it - the Boro, as it's known, is one of the old, mid-sized industrial towns of the Northeast that, while not facing quite the same sort of decline as some its counterparts in the rust belt of the United States, has yet to really reinvent itself. Think somewhere like Milwaukee. In short, it's not exactly the kind of place overseas visitors generally make a destination out of. </div>
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I only had about 36 hours in the Northeast, but it was enough to confirm my love. I mean, when you waking up to rainbows over picturesque British towns, it's kind of an omen (not to mention crazy Australians in their underwear). 8 hours later we were climbing bridges.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq15KXWKuSOSvO5HH5Lvee04iAiv557bQRo59ORNxsQrSllMUPNv7rGHsIdnlASxLF2jHugYRpeVo28aFsDSqaCXgIliIlbwkj9j6W0Ep71vPMpNVruYVAijudIm1P1YNUHHQPBsrb_-mE/s1600/IMG_0257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq15KXWKuSOSvO5HH5Lvee04iAiv557bQRo59ORNxsQrSllMUPNv7rGHsIdnlASxLF2jHugYRpeVo28aFsDSqaCXgIliIlbwkj9j6W0Ep71vPMpNVruYVAijudIm1P1YNUHHQPBsrb_-mE/s640/IMG_0257.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Our appetizer was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tees_Newport_Bridge">Teas-Newport Bridge</a>, the first major lift bridge built in England, and - rumor has it - the host of a recent addition to the (obviously NSFW) <a href="http://sexonbridges.com/">sex on bridges club</a>. I hadn't climbed a bridge superstructure in a while and was pretty excited to do so, but started having second thoughts about 2/3 of the way up when I realized that what was flaking off in my hands wasn't just paint, but rusted metal. When I felt a couple crunches beneath my feet, I decided I'd best monkey my way over to the ladder to finish the climb. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJufq1KYiEdPrpU24bN6N0upwhc4LiGE3KMgyaC06-XndmQs-_A-YZPTm67msze6CJ36C3szm5yyfuKZUDC_AyIB7NeQuAJsgCIqtCxKiU_tq3b294ed8xvYnpeUFxjsrpIUsjH8X6Q-o/s1600/newport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJufq1KYiEdPrpU24bN6N0upwhc4LiGE3KMgyaC06-XndmQs-_A-YZPTm67msze6CJ36C3szm5yyfuKZUDC_AyIB7NeQuAJsgCIqtCxKiU_tq3b294ed8xvYnpeUFxjsrpIUsjH8X6Q-o/s640/newport.jpg" width="424" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Top of the Tees-Newport. Photo by <a href="http://www.lucindagrange.com/">Lucinda Grange </a></span></div>
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After this, it was time for the main course - the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middlesbrough_Transporter_Bridge">Middlesbrough Transporter Bridge</a> (don't be fooled - it's still the middle of the night. I shot this photo the following day).</div>
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You might look at this picture and remark "wait - how is that a bridge?" And the answer is, "it isn't." That elaborate structure was designed and built solely as a truss mechanism. Wires hang down from a cart that runs in a track under the transverse, and connext with a platform floating on the water. A big cable is attached to this cart from the small building with the chimney that you can see in the foreground on the right. Every 15 minutes or so they take in or let out this cable, which moves the cart, which then guides the platform (which holds up to 9 cars and about 200 people) across the river. In essence, it's several thousand tons of metal put together in order to haul a ferry slightly larger than a boxing ring. Why they don't just have the ferry is beyond me.</div>
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Dozens of these had actually been created in the early part of the 20th century, with only a few still working and a few more (like <a href="http://travel.allcitynewyork.com/2010/02/white-whale-lives.html">this one</a> I had seen in Buenos Aires) standing but long abandoned. Having failed to climb the one in Buenos Aires, I was pretty excited to get up this one. In true British fashion, they even had a sign politely reminding us of the rules. We followed rules #1 and #4 to a T.</div>
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While there's a catwalk for maintenance (and <a href="http://www.exelement.co.uk/experience/the-uks-only-bridge-bungee-jump-112.php">bungee jumping</a>) that runs the length of the bridge, only one side of the bridge has stairs. As such, there's actually no way to cross the river on the structure (which I'd consider a baseline for something being called a "bridge") - unless, of course, you want to do this for a couple hundred feet. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWzDWt2CsmuALL9hNB4kTZkjjNde48VyKMXw0yeHhyE6fKXNrlBDSwU3XAfOhIosySvsTbA422d6kqkO4mXADPMJ6eMOZfybRQSP7rJNfq1Kc0_Pg1VyFR9a_jNAHaICFvityqzN9psSdo/s1600/snap%255B+trans+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWzDWt2CsmuALL9hNB4kTZkjjNde48VyKMXw0yeHhyE6fKXNrlBDSwU3XAfOhIosySvsTbA422d6kqkO4mXADPMJ6eMOZfybRQSP7rJNfq1Kc0_Pg1VyFR9a_jNAHaICFvityqzN9psSdo/s640/snap%255B+trans+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Snaps getting loose - photo by </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/forsakenarchitecture/">forsaken</a></span></div>
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I took the stairs - most of the way. Once we got to the catwalk the stairs ended, but there was still about 50 feet of structure above us. And, as always, you don't stop until you get to the top. Even if your camera sucks.</div>
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The next day I wanted to head back to the bridge - to ride it, see it in action. I can't really understand the people who only want the trespassing-adventure part of visiting cities, who travel solely for the purpose of checking various tough-to-get-to places off their list. It's fun, but without any context, it's flying across an ocean just to play around on a big jungle gym. What's the point of exploring, of interacting with this great structure up close, if you don't even bother to experience how it actually works? </div>
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We drove over and paid our 70 pence to take the ride, accompanied by a few cars and what appeared to be a fifth grade field trip.</div>
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The ride begins<br />
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On the ride back, we asked the ticket-taker if we could see a bit more of the mechanics of the contraption. We were rewarded with a visit inside the machine room where Alan Murray, the Bridgemaster, spent a good half-hour with us explaining how the bridge works. That big spool on the left is used to wind up and let out the cable that moves the transporter mechanism back and forth across the river.<br />
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The spool in action</div>
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There is no way this would be done in New York or London. We would have asked, they would have said no, and that would have been that. I don't really blame the cities - in large, popular, heavily travelled places many interesting things have a general "lockdown by default" policy. The excuse given (if any) will be usually security or liability, but that's not the real reason - it's to avoid the hassle of eventually being overwhelmed with curiosity seekers. I appreciated the fact that we were in a different paradigm, a different culture, one where the pride that people have in the machines they build, maintain, and operate is manifested by gladly showing them off, not by keeping them smugly hidden away. In fact, for a scant 4 pounds they'll even let you up to the catwalk, weather permitting. You have to follow all four rules though. And I doubt they'll be thrilled if you try to get pictures like the ones above.<br />
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Grammatically, and also in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middlesbrough#Origin_of_motto_.22Erimus.22">historical context of coming up with the motto</a>, "Erimus" means "we will be" as opposed to "we are" or "we have been." But I started thinking about it in a different way after my 36 hours- "we will be" as opposed to "we will say" or "we will do" or we will (insert verb here)." Thinking about the motto as the motto of a town that goes about it business the way it always has - the kind of town that neither lets this crazy contraption fall into disrepair and abandonment, nor tears it down for a fancy new replacement, but just lets it be.<br />
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The bridge turns 100 on October 17th. If you happen to be in England, <a href="http://www.middlesbrough.gov.uk/ccm/navigation/leisure-and-culture/local-history-and-heritage/historic-buildings-and-structures/transporter-bridge/events/">head on up for some celebrations</a> -they're going on all month. I wish I could be there for the event itself though - I do love helping bridges <a href="http://walk.allcitynewyork.com/2010/01/happy-birthday.html">celebrate their centenials</a>. There's also a <a href="http://www.mfcofficialdirect.co.uk/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=4634&category_id=59&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=71">great book out</a> by Dave Allen about the history of the transporter bridge. You can pick it up in person or online through the Middlesbrough soccer team's store. Go Teesiders!</div>
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Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-16111406038455451072011-03-22T16:36:00.001-07:002014-02-27T15:36:50.731-08:00How to visit the Catacombs - FAQ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><i>First off, I should say that this assumes a certain level of both knowledge and motivation. Motivation I can do nothing about either way, but if you're currently either wondering "what are Catacombs?" or thinking "isn't that somewhere under <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Rome or something</st1:place></st1:city></st1:place></st1:city>?" you have some rudimentary reading to do. If you're thinking "does he mean how to visit that weird museum in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Paris</st1:place></st1:city></st1:place></st1:city>?" you're closer, but still not quite there. Anyway, go read </i><a href="http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/travel/paris.html"><i>this</i></a><i>, or <a href="http://www.npr.org/2011/01/30/133308592/parisunderground">this</a>, or </i><a href="http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/02/paris-underground/shea-text"><i>this</i></a><i>, or heck, even </i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mines_of_Paris"><i>this</i></a><i>. Then come back here.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">OK, so you want to go visit the </span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" style="font-size: 100%;">catas</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> but you don’t quite know what you’re doing. Here's a helpful FAQ. If you do know what you’re doing, you’ll find most of this </span><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" style="font-size: 100%;">unnecessary</span><span style="font-size: 100%;">, but there might be a helpful tidbit or two in here.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%;"><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="1">Do I need a guide?</a> </b></span><br />
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You do not need a guide. Stop asking around for one right now. You don't need even need to speak French. If you possess the ability to read a map and some common sense you'll be fine. In fact, you probably don't even want a guide. Not only is it kind of lame, but a local is not going to want to hoof it around for hours visiting all the places they’<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">ve</span> seen a million times. Locals generally go to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">catas</span> to party, or just to relax and hang out with their friends. If they’re doing something else it’s probably making art or working on opening something up, both of which are going to entail staying in one place for hours while you're chomping at the bit to go take off down the next tunnel.</div>
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If, for some reason, you are still insisting on asking around for a guide, you should probably be offering to pay. Why do you think someone would want to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">schlep</span> around in the dark with a stranger for free? Actually, come to think of it, hire me. I'll do it for plane fare, accommodation, and a $500 day rate.</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%;"><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="2">What are the hazards?</a></b></span></div>
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<u2:p> </u2:p><o:p></o:p><br />
Well, you will probably bump your head a couple times. You might twist an ankle if you aren't careful. I've heard that there is a small but real danger of structural collapse, although the Parisians have spent the last 234 years stabilizing the network.</div>
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You'll also get your feet wet. If you don't want to get your feet wet, you're going to need either hip waders or chest waders, depending on your height. I have yet to see someone go in with calf-high rubber boots and come out with dry feet. With careful navigation you can pretty much avoid the thigh-level water, but not the knee-level water. While most of the tunnels aren't flooded, this is a pretty commonplace scene:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTeyDHRXsJoySKpkxIBJ34nTHfTkw8oB5cCIfi82DQjgNHaduE1CocxO7mHzphCYtnNBBo95z5fqdahuicXW22To0zJQJIzKncTFUT-1QqOPm6r58F8IJIdd2oIJpgVTKqQDFZrZCpg8r/s1600/P2070118.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTeyDHRXsJoySKpkxIBJ34nTHfTkw8oB5cCIfi82DQjgNHaduE1CocxO7mHzphCYtnNBBo95z5fqdahuicXW22To0zJQJIzKncTFUT-1QqOPm6r58F8IJIdd2oIJpgVTKqQDFZrZCpg8r/s400/P2070118.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587693436270410642" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>Personally, as I find waders a huge pain in the neck (not to mention taking up a lot of room in your bag flying over) I just go in a pair of sneakers with a dry pair of socks and shoes to change into, although I usually end up getting those wet also. Another option is to bring flip-flops (or even go barefoot) and shorts for the wet parts, but some of the footing is a bit treacherous and the water can be muddy, so I’d wear something with more traction and ankle support. <o:p></o:p></div>
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You'll probably also get dirty, although that might just be me. Somehow, the French have this amazing ability to spend hours in a dank, dirty tunnel network and still emerge looking like they just stepped out of a Yves St. Laurent catalog.</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%;"><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="3">But isn't this dangerous?</a></b></span><br />
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Well, no, not really. I'd say it's marginally more dangerous than getting out of bed in the morning and going about your day, but not by a whole lot. The biggest thing is this - a lot can go wrong just going about your day. You could <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">accidentally</span> step in a hole and break your ankle, or run into some mean people and get mugged, or get too drunk and not be able to find your way home. But you're not too worried about this - you call an ambulance, or the police, or a cab. And anyway, how often does this really happen?</div>
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The biggest thing in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">catas</span> is that there's no "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Esc</span>" key. If you break your ankle, you're going to have to figure out how to wind your way back through the tunnels for a couple miles to the entrance in horrific pain before you can call a doctor. It's not that much different from going backcountry camping in this regard, although you certainly can't call for a Medivac or anything.<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" style="font-size: 130%;"><b><br />
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<span style="font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%; font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #cc6600;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="4">But isn’t this illegal?</a></span></span><br />
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<o:p>Sure. Being illegal it what makes the place so great. With legality comes security guards, "don't touch" signs, 6 Euro hot dogs, and all that garbage.</o:p> And anyway, it’s not THAT illegal. Even if you do run into cops (which does happen) you won’t go to jail or get deported or anything. You'll just get a fine. I've heard different amounts for this fine, with the highest being 120 Euros, which is probably what you'd pay just going sightseeing for a couple days anyway. Plus, you know, this is <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">France</st1:place></st1:country-region></st1:place></st1:country-region>. Actually making sure you pay the fine is probably considered more trouble than it’s worth. Police presence goes in cycles. If you know any locals, ask if the cops have been around lately. Police presence is also heavier on the weekends and almost always concentrated in the most frequented parts of the catacombs.<span style="color: #cc6600; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%;"><b><br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="5">Will I run into people?</a></b></span></div>
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Most likely. There's a lot of folks in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">catas</span>, especially on weekends. And people come from all over the world. I've spent a total of about 70-80 hours down there, and have met (in addition to countless French), Japanese, Swedes, Koreans, Germans, British, Australians, Canadians, Americans, and a hound dog.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAzhSNs5Lod5zV1wdaY1Ww1BCZAZEJePMw1CwvIaf2JTEKzjuy_tN-wro2x7hYHj3Sgr9jTv5kj8XeY7QzAlWhsUsboxK1hOb5qlv7EHS05Le1xR7keyngLRWq8EhkrDR1oNMpjJ3Ag7cH/s1600/P2060084.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAzhSNs5Lod5zV1wdaY1Ww1BCZAZEJePMw1CwvIaf2JTEKzjuy_tN-wro2x7hYHj3Sgr9jTv5kj8XeY7QzAlWhsUsboxK1hOb5qlv7EHS05Le1xR7keyngLRWq8EhkrDR1oNMpjJ3Ag7cH/s400/P2060084.JPG" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587732406263679490" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>I’<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">ve</span> also recognized tags or art from people from four different continents.</div>
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You're most likely to run into people around La Plage, which is kind of the Times Square of the catacombs and about a 30-minute walk from the main entrance. These will probably be groups of mostly-young, mostly-male French folks hanging out. People are generally nice enough, but the vibe is pretty much "we're all here to do our own thing." A simple "Bonsouir" is usually sufficient communication, although I've had conversations with people. If you speak French you'll obviously have an easier time, but plenty of people speak English. You might also run into some foreigners, who will probably be taking pictures.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">If you get deeper into the catas, you're more likely to run across more hardcore cataphiles. These folks will probably be a bit older (30s or even 40s) and dressed more for a caving expedition than a party. This is what a cataphile generally looks like (on the left)</span><span style="font-family: times new roman;">:</span><br />
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<o:p><b><span style="color: #cc6600; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="6">So what should I bring?</a> </span><o:p></o:p></b></o:p> <br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #cc6600;">Light</span> </span>- this is the most important thing. Bring three light source (same as for caving), with extra batteries and whatnot. If you run out of light, especially in a part of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">catas</span> that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">isn</span>’t frequented very much, you’re somewhat fucked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-weight: bold;">The Map</span> - regular <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">cataphiles</span> don't need one, but you sure do. Think a fairly complex Dungeons and Dragons module. That's what you're in. If, for some reason, you lose the map you probably won’t die. Your best bet is to wander around until you find somewhere that looks interesting or has a lot of art and wait there. People will be along sometime.</div>
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There's a few different maps, but they're all more or less the same. When I went for the first time in January 2006 I got a .pdf version from some cataphile friends that I printed out at printing shop (It measured about two feet by three feet), and have used that version ever since, mostly just because it's what I'm used to. But you, full denizen of the digital age, don't even have to worry about having a hookup anymore. You can now download a copy (in English no less!) <a href="http://www.explographies.com/">here</a>.</div>
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The site's a little hard navigate, but hey: if you can't make your way around a website, you don't really have any business trying to make your way around the catacombs. Whatever map you end up using will probably have an inaccuracy or two, and won't cover the entire network (they generally omit a lot of the southern part), but are incredibly comprehensive overall and will be more than sufficient for getting you around. Some people laminate theirs to keep it from getting wet or door (which is almost certainly will), or sometimes cut it up and make a little book out of it instead of keeping the huge version. I just take a spare or two. <br />
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A tip: printing large format in France in incredibly expensive - print a few copies in Kinkos or Staples before you go - it should only cost you a few bucks each in Black and White (you don't need color).</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-weight: bold;">Water</span><span style="color: #cc6600;"> </span> - if you're planning a trip of any length, this will probably be your limiting factor as water is pretty heavy. But again, if you run out of water you won’t die – there’s a bunch of flooded tunnels where you can get a drink (flooded tunnels are even indicated on the map). Now, I should mention I have no idea how potable this water is and I have heard stories of people getting sick from drinking it. But if you're really stuck, as it’s just groundwater, I’m guessing it’ll most likely be OK. It probably won’t even be that gross as long as someone hasn't walked through it lately and kicked up a bunch of dirt.<br />
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-weight: bold;">Food</span> - think camping provisions if you're going for any length of time. If you're just ducking in for the night, by all means prepare a 7-course continental dinner or whatever else you can haul through the tunnels for a half-mile or so, which is about how long it'll take before you get somewhere you can sit.<br />
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<b style="color: red;"><span style="color: #cc6600;">Sleeping Gear</span> </b>- I highly recommend sleeping in the catacombs, but you've got to do it right. I've spent two nights down there - one of the best, and one of the most miserable sleeps of my life.</div>
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The first time I brought only a sleeping bag and laid it out on the floor. If you sleep on the floor, or especially on the stone, after about 10 minutes it's going to start feeling like you're Harry Potter having your soul sucked out by a Dementor. I had to sleep wrapped up in a sleeping bag with my jacket, gloves, and hat on, and still shivered all night. A sleeping pad would probably help, but I don't know how much. </div>
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</a>This is how to do it. The second time I brought a hammock. This was awesome. I still slept in my sweater, pants, and sleeping bag but didn't need a hat or anything. There's a bunch of places where people have put hammock hooks. We slept in the Cabinet <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Minerologic</span>, which has the disadvantage of being somewhat heavily trafficked, but was the only place we knew of with hammock hooks (although I'm pretty sure there's some in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Salle</span> Rouge also). You can get a travel hammock that's really light and packs down to the size of a softball for about 50 bucks.<br />
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I suppose you should probably bring a first aid kit and such also. I can't say I’<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">ve</span> ever brought one myself, but it seems like a good policy.<br />
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%; font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="7">So what should I see?</a></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Generally speaking, it's funnest just to wander around and find awesome stuff (and there's a bunch of awesome stuff). There's lots marked on the map - go find it and see if it's cool. If you really want a destination guide, some of the most popular follow. Consider this a spoiler alert. I should also note that this only refers to the "Great Southern Network," or the largest quarry network that runs mainly underneath most of XIV arrondissement and parts of the neighboring arrondissements. There's also other, smaller networks throughout Paris and the suburbs.<br />
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-weight: bold;">If you're into art</span> - go check out La <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Plage</span>, Le <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Cellier</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Gallarie</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">des</span> Promos and the Castle Room</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-weight: bold;">If you're into history</span><span style="color: #cc6600;"> </span>- go check out the German Bunker, and try to get to the Val <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">de</span> Grace although it's kind of a pain. Also make sure to read up on the inscriptions (it's on the English map), and pay attention to those. If the Free French bunker is open get to that also, but it's usually closed.</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-weight: bold;">If you're into bones and creepy stuff</span> - go check out the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Ossuaries</span> and the Tombe Philibert. Also go on the official tour.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #cc6600;">If you're into cool spaces and architecture</span><span style="color: red;"> </span>- </span>go check out the Salle Z, the Abri Laval, and definitely try to get to the Aqueduct too, but that's almost always closed. Also the Cube Room I think is kind of cool.</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-weight: bold;">If you have a limited amount of time</span><span style="color: red;"> </span>- you should probably enter and head straight to La <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Plage</span>, Le <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Cellier</span>, the Salle Marie Rose, and the Castle room. They’re all reasonably near the main entrance and pretty close together. You can be visit them all and still be in-and-out in a few hours.</div>
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(Cata pros - feel free to chime in on any of the above. I'm sure there's a lot of stuff I'm forgetting or haven't been to).</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%;"><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="8">What other random stuff should I know?</a></b></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="color: #cc6600;">Time</b> - for some reason, time seems to go really quickly in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">catas</span>. You'll check your watch thinking you've been in there for a few hours and it's already the next day.<br />
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<b style="color: #cc6600;">Weather</b> - one of the wonderful things is that the weather is completely consistent year-round. About 55 degrees (Fahrenheit) and very, very humid. This has the practical effect of making you kind of hot when you're walking around, but quickly cooling you down when you stop to rest. As such, layers that you can easily put on and take off are a good idea.</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-weight: bold;">Taking care of business</span> - you can pretty much pee anywhere reasonably out-of-the-way, it won't be too long before it gets filtered into the groundwater. For a #2, you should probably go to a dead-end tunnel and bury it, although as it's not going to decompose anytime soon try to abstain if you can (it's also just plain nasty to take a poo down there). It's also obviously good form to pack out all your garbage. The cataphiles are actually on a bit of an anti-littering kick right now, and have started organizing cleanups.</div>
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<span style="color: #cc6600; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 180%;"><b><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1898500128273899747" name="9">So how do I get there?</a></b></span><br />
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Fly to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Paris</st1:place></st1:city></st1:place></st1:city>. There’s one entrance in an abandoned rail tunnel in the southern part of the XIV <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">arrondissement</span> that’s always open. I can’t quite bring myself to give A-Z directions on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Internet</span> but trust me, it’s not a secret or anything. Someone will tell you if you ask. Heck, I’ll probably tell you if you ask. If you know a local or two you might have a lead on other entrances, which tend to kind of come and go. The main benefit of the other entrances is avoiding the flooded tunnels in the southern part of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">catas</span>, but it's also just kind of fun to get in and out other ways.<br />
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So that's about it. The catas are loads of fun and, at least for me, the coolest place in the world (and I've been a lot of places). I highly recommend checking them out.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-56873605980477912032010-12-07T10:19:00.000-08:002010-12-10T13:55:38.359-08:0010 things to know about Cairo1. Cairo is amazingly polluted. Not just dirty (which it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">undeniably</span> is) – polluted. It makes LA in 1972 look like Alaska in 1654. Smog blankets the city constantly, and it feels like you’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ve</span> been smoking a half a pack a day.<br /><br />2. People stash coins in their ears. For real. I have no idea if these are makeshift earplugs, or just somewhere for people to keep their spare change.<br /><br />3. The shoe shine guys don’t shine your shoes while you’re wearing them, instead they give you a piece of cardboard to put your feet on while they do it off to the side. There are a lot of shoeshine guys, and a lot of people who take shoeshines. I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">ve</span> noticed there’s something about having busted kicks that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">doesn</span>’t sit right with people in many, many different places.<br /><br />4. Cairo is a truly 24 hour city. The secondhand clothes market ($6 for a purple <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pleather</span> snakeskin jacket!) is rocking at midnight. People - kids, adults, whoever, are out on the street at all hours of the night. It makes New York look like Jacksonville.<br /><br />5. As such, Cairo is a pretty safe place to just wander around – wherever, whenever. My general rule of thumb is that if there are kids and old people out, a place is probably safe, and there are always kids out.<br /><br />6. This does not, however, mean that you will be left alone. Quite to the contrary. If you stand out as a foreigner, people will start talking to you every 10 feet. The problem is it is not the kind of approach you can just tune out and let bounce off of you, like street preacher or panhandler in New York. It’s a heavily interactive approach and as such requires a heavily interactive rejection. The only thing in New York I can compare it to are the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Chabad</span> (“excuse me, you are Jewish?”) guys, or maybe a real, real aggressive solicitor for Children's International. Or, if you can remember, about 10 years ago there were these Chinese massage guys who would grab you on the street and start rubbing your shoulder going “free sample, free sample.” Now, these approaches are not threatening or malicious, but they are constant and extremely, extremely, extremely annoying and make it completely impossible to just wander the streets in peace.<br /><br />7. Out of all the people who talk to you, the kids are the best and pretty fun. With them you’ll end up playing soccer or taking pictures (I can’t tell you the amount of times we got approached by kids wanting their picture taken with us). Everyone else is trying to sell you something or rip you off. It gets to the point where people will flag down your cab, jump in, and redirect it to their shop. Seriously. And then be pissed when you don't buy anything.<br /><br />8. And people are constantly, constantly trying to rip you off. Now given, this is a country where foreigners are simply expected to pay more than locals because they can afford more than locals. Everything remotely touristy has an Egyptian price and a (much, much higher) foreigner price. But there is the honest way to do this, and the dishonest way to do it. My first day the guy at the museum (the museum!) tried to shortchange me 100 pounds. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">fastfood</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">schwarma</span> place charged me 3x what they should have. You have to argue over the price of a cup of coffee if you don't want to just pay whatever they happen to make up. It's this, not the "Entrance, 1 pound. Children, 1/2 pound. Non-Egyptian, 20 pounds" signs that makes me never want to spend a dime in that town again.<br /><br />9. Even beyond this, Cairo is the most cynical city toward tourists that I have ever visited. Worse than New York, worse even than Rome. I've often written about how cities that no longer have to try and sell themselves to visitors degenerate into shameless rackets designed to simply milk every last dollar they can out of tourists. This is Cairo, and it's compounded further by the fact that, unlike New York or Rome, tourists have vastly more money than locals. In the Cairo mentality the purpose of visitors is to have them depart with their pockets as light as possible, and that is just the way of the world.<br /><br />10. A big part of this is the culture of "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baksheesh">Baksheesh</a>," which is basically means "bribe/tip" (there's no real hard and fast line). <span style=""> </span>"Baksheesh" is so prevalent they put it in the official guidebook they give you on the airplane. I initially thought "great, I can just bribe my way wherever I want to go." But as a smart person once told me you bribe someone to do their job, not to not do their job. Bribing cultures exist not so that you can pay to do cool stuff you wouldn't otherwise be able to do, they exist to get your money. Successful uses of Baksheesh including bribing some squatters to let us check out the abandoned mansion they were living in (right next to the Dutch Embassy!), and bribing someone who may or may not have worked there to let us up to the top of a minaret after-hours. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Unsuccessful</span> uses of Baksheesh include trying to bribe the construction workers to let us up to the top of an under-renovation skyscraper, and trying to bribe the guards at the pyramids to let us stay overnight and climb them. Perhaps the best "Baksheesh" anecdote is this: there is a rope a few feet away from something - the edge of an observation platform, the pyramids, whatever. The guard will then motion for you that it's perfectly OK to cross the rope and take pictures. Then you're supposed to give the guard (or whoever it might have been) money. They could, of course, just not put the rope there, but then there would be no Baksheesh. This is how bribing cultures work.Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-39225219692047505922010-12-01T08:23:00.000-08:002010-12-10T13:57:14.441-08:00More Tunisia Quick & Dirty<div>I'm currently waiting for it to be time to take a cab to the airport, and killing said time in the Internet cafe looking at a big sign over the computer which reads "Il Est Strictement Interdit de Consulter Les Sites Prohibes." So far I've discovered Flickr, YouTube, and (for some reason) The Atlantic don't make the cut. Facebook is OK. This and the huge pictures of the president everywhere make this otherwise fairly friendly and relaxed country feel a bit like 1984. On with the observations - I hope I don't offend whatever Tunisian intelligence agent is monitoring this.<br /><br />1. There is Tuna Fish everywhere. They put it on everything - a big handful with your fries or on salad. There's huge industrial cans of it sold at corner kiosks. One time they used the oil from a Tuna can as dip for the bread instead of Olive Oil.<br /><br />2. Bread is everywhere and is basically free. It's subsidized and price-controlled, and I they can't give you enough of it. You get free bread with basically anything you order anywhere.<br /><br />3. Food, in general, is not that good, and there is absolutely no correlation between price and quality. With the possible exception of couscous dishes, the Tunisian standards would be pretty par for the course in America. However it is incredibly cheap - a huge meal at a restaurant never runs more than 5 dollars, and can easily be had for more like 3. Toothpaste, on the other hand, costs about 12 bucks.<br /><br />4. Desserts and pastries, though are great, and generally involve some wonderful combination of Pistaccio and Honey.<br /><br />5. I cannot tell if I've eaten Camel. We tried once and failed, but may have done so a few other times without trying.<br /><br />6. There are stray cats everywhere. People generally like them. It's sometimes acceptable to feed them scraps at a restaurant. There are no stray dogs.<br /><br />7. One of the country's best experiences is getting twisted into various WWF-esque holds by a burly Tunisian man in a sauna. This is called a "massage" and you get it along with a vigorous scrubbing with a scouring pad. For you wrestling fans, holds including a sitting full nelson and a surfboard. It is actually wonderful and worth the 10 dinars we probably overpaid. </div><div> </div><br /><div>8. Running your hand through the Sahara sand is one of life's more wonderful tactile experiences. It's like dipping your hand into a mound of cool silk. You want to bathe in it until you realize what the aftermath would be.</div><div> </div><br /><div>9. There is a strange, almost hypnotic desire to walk straight into the desert and just keep walking. I have no idea if this is just me, but my hunch is it's not.</div><div> </div><br /><div>10. There is cell phone reception in the Sahara, or at least there is up to about 10 kilometers outside of town.<br /><br />11. It might just be that I've never been in a large Middle-Eastern city before, but the Tunis Medina is an amazing place. Without context, if you were dropped there at night you would probably think it was one of the spookiest, most dangerous places on earth. The incredibly dark and narrow twisting streets are made darker by the fact that many of them are covered over. Farthi, a perfume store owner who grew up in the Medina, explained that he and his friends used to race over the rooftops from one side to another, but never completed a race because someone always got hurt.<br /><br />12. Speaking of Farthi, drop by his perfume shop right by the Great Mosque if you're ever in Tunis. An impromptu tour of rooftops, the inside of the Koranic school, craft shops, and other nooks and crannies was well worth the 30 dinar I ended up dropping at his perfume store without complaint.<br /><br />13. Don't try to tour the rooftops by yourself at night. The shops in the Tunis Medina mostly sell crap now, but there's still high, high quality jewelry in some of the souks. They have guard dogs patrolling the roofs after the shops close.<br /><br />14. For some reason, Tunisians seem to have a thing about how they're better than the Algerians. "Not like in Algeria" was a common phrase when extolling the virtues of Tunisia.<br /><br />15. If you are into ancient Rome visit Tunisia, not Italy. There are incredibly well-preserved ruins, including a giant Colloseum (used in the movie Gladiator) in El Jem, as well as entire hilltop cities often interspersed with older Punic ruins. And unlike Rome, entrance will generally cost about 3 dollars, without a fence, guard or "keep off" sign in site. Now, you can't exactly take the subway to these places like you can in Rome - our journey involved three van trips and quite a fight with an unscrupulous driver - but at least in the off-season there will also generally be about 3 other tourists there - the Star Wars sets get way more tourist traffic. The only exception is Carthage, which is much more of your standard European tourist experience. Even though there's not a whole lot to see in terms of ruins, getting a sense of the geography of the ancient city and port was really cool.<br /></div>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-88003740690314561032010-11-22T11:46:00.000-08:002010-12-10T13:57:34.473-08:00Tunisia - Quick & DirtyI am way behind on my travel writing: Bolivia, Peru, Mexico, US Road Trip, Stockholm, Moscow, Kiev, Istanbul, Odessa, and more stories from the usual suspects (London, Paris, Rome, Naples) have been woefully neglected. But today, I find myself in Tataouine (Tunisia, not Galactic Empire) with not much to do but hang out at the internet cafe, and thought I should get down some tips and observations above and beyond the standard guidebook fare while they're still fresh in my mind. So here goes:<br /><br />1. All travel here takes place in the morning. If you want to go anywhere, it's probably happening before noon, and definitely before 3. There's no "sleep where you want to wake up" going on, unless you want to pay an arm and a leg to buy out the whole van.<br /><br />2. There really is a strange, casual resemblance to "Star Wars" that is above and beyond the tourist sites. Road signs point the way to minor Jedi. Dudes are occasionally dressed like Obi-Wan Kenobi.<br /><br />3. Tunisia is basically Jamaica, or maybe the Dominican Republic, for the French. A place to go for a cheap and all-inclusive beach holiday, with the more adventurous folks taking a day trip into town, or maybe arranging a 4x4 tour.<br /><br />4. As such, all even mildly touristy towns are laid out basically like Vegas: a regular city, and then a huge, guady, and insular "zone touristique" a mile or so outside of town.<br /><br />5. This ends up - especially in the off-season - leading to a serious lack of interaction with other tourists if you are the dirty backpacker type. My brother and I are used to backpacking around Latin America, where you're hard pressed to avoid Australian or German 20-somethings if you tried. But here we're following the Lonely Planet faithfully, and have encountered 2 Japanese solo tourists and a middle-aged American couple who wandered into the internet cafe to watch "America's Next Top Model."<br /><br />6. There really is a worldwide Jewish conspiracy. Here is how it works: roll up to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_ghriba_synagogue">El Ghriba synagouge</a> on Saturday. When they tell you it's closed, tell them you're Jewish. Wait for them to check your passport and let you in. Say Shalom, kick off your shoes, throw on a yamulke and tallis, and try to follow along with the guys inside. Save the 1 Dinar admission fee because it's Shabbas and you aren't supposed to have money. Feel kind of bad as you roll past the guys walking back from Synagogue in a taxi. Don't feel that bad though: they don't let the non-Muslims visit the Mosques in this country, so you figure it's only fair.<br /><br />Note: sorry ladies, I am pretty sure the worldwide Jewish conspiracy only applies to men.<br /><br />7. The cult of personality is weird. There have been two leaders since independence. The first guy was the leader of the independence movement. The second guy deposed the first guy in a bloodless coup when the first guy was 83. All the posters are of the second guy, but the main street in each town is named after the first guy.<br /><br />8. This is the first place I've been where I can't speak the main language, the second language, or the main tourist language. 50 words of French will help you immeasurably.<br /><br />9. The best marketing scheme I've seen so far: accost tourist on the street. Ask where they are from. When you get the answer, pull out tattered notebook and point to a page written in their language. Have tourist read what a great guide you are. Successfully sell 4-hour tour for 10 dinar more than what the guidebook suggest it costs despite not speaking a language in common.<br /><br />10. The worst-executed tourist scam so far: try to sell 35 dinar ride from Matmata to Gabes. Make a deal to give a ride to Nouvelle Matmata, and then arrange for a van for tourist to Gabes for 20 dinar total. When arriving at Nouvelle Matmata, fail to arrange van ride that gives you sufficient profit margin, try to claim to tourists that there are no buses or vans to Gabes, and reiterate offer to drive to Gabes for 35 dinar. Don't get money in advance and end up taking the 5 dinar offered when tourists do not fall for the scam.<br /><br />11. Best executed tourist scam so far: do not make deal with guy above to take tourists in your van for (I'm guessing) 10 dinar. Try to get 25 dinar from them directly. Make deal for 20 because tourists do not do "walk away" trick quick enough and are tired. As soon as money is handed over, magically fill the rest of the van with 6 other people despite initially insisting there is nobody else who wants to go to Gabes.<br /><br />12. Best bargaining strategy. Show interest. Immediately get price quote. Immediately walk away. Keep walking and do not look back for at least three or four "hey, hey, HEYs." Return. Do not give a price yourself until original price has been lowered to almost appropriate amount. Haggle. When you get close to a deal, walk away again. Return after one or two "hey, hey, HEYs" or the guy will think you are actually not interested. Haggle. Overpay.<br /><br />13. Remember to constantly remind yourself that finding the love of your life in a lunch counter behind the bus station in Gabes only happens in the movies. But still enjoy demure smiles and extra olives on your merguez sandwich.<br /><br />14. Pay the extra 93 cents for "Confort" class on the trains. Realize this only guarantees you <span style="font-style: italic;">A</span> seat, not the specific seat that is actually on your ticket. Still easily worth it.<br /><br />15. Spellcheck on the computers is in French. Sorry for the mistakes.Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-60521770218871039592007-03-10T12:14:00.000-08:002010-08-15T22:27:27.622-07:00Crossing the borderWhen it comes to landscapes, Argentina is a lot like America. The plains of the Pampas might as well be the Midwest, Tierra del Fuego could easily be the Rockies or even the Pacific Northwest, and even the small tropical corner near Iguazu is mirrored in Hawaii. I headed out from Buenos Aires to the north, around Salta and Jujuy, and felt like I might well be in New Mexico or Arizona. Painted deserts, sparse cactus-filled landscapes - the only real differences are the alpacas and llamas every once in a while.<br /><div><div><br /><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; display: block; height: 300px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502121457139936818" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixW0hEULMqtja43Q5oRT2NMTO0_UpaW0rOl9XDu5WAxa4_DtdAILQS5sfYb7PVtFk0T9T4IRDy2x-iY9rTOeWCplx23tB8ChuNP9DSjl02MQclr0_2sMyzMo-Owa4N4vEp49NviuicMnkH/s400/P1010151.JPG" border="0" />I also got the chance to do my first bungee jump. It was fairly sketchy - they only had velcro bands around the ankles with no other security - but the fact that it was only about 50 feet or so over a river meant that I most probably would have been perfectly fine if the velcro around my ankles gave way. It was pretty fun - you got dunked into the river at the bottom, then bounced right back out. They also had a great zip line over the river.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwdAf6dnMACx4DOKKdaJasg1zMF636LlTiWnXhkYk-sOm-cnQynr_eKpQCFvleT4531Z4CAx8m2VC_CKydVh7aA2M1FXmf9pXR_mZx8PWuOt6tjQWh0jFz0aaCaNT7Uio1Pw5U2FQ1TAo/s1600/P1010299.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwdAf6dnMACx4DOKKdaJasg1zMF636LlTiWnXhkYk-sOm-cnQynr_eKpQCFvleT4531Z4CAx8m2VC_CKydVh7aA2M1FXmf9pXR_mZx8PWuOt6tjQWh0jFz0aaCaNT7Uio1Pw5U2FQ1TAo/s400/P1010299.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505863351432495170" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67u0n7hUMPmsidVvIfRu0hdYHtgWeYvc-8K2wmeWnxj8OxDdPOYLo7sWlTqH4fAfHDLaG_8gil95oI0osSLijwL3WdDcHEdtmClQWQ1f9ihqxWSGOlILVFNj2lRiL7BttYrdA5TvJ0uzs/s1600/P1010296.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67u0n7hUMPmsidVvIfRu0hdYHtgWeYvc-8K2wmeWnxj8OxDdPOYLo7sWlTqH4fAfHDLaG_8gil95oI0osSLijwL3WdDcHEdtmClQWQ1f9ihqxWSGOlILVFNj2lRiL7BttYrdA5TvJ0uzs/s400/P1010296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505862874439189570" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnPkbxiJS0G66Dd4QSnURP_Uuzdn9i5s7QFuwnU16bxNjCnAJVUxUf8dsuBuachLkUF2JPtFczPhEl5-0XtUGixIPjhY8Lw5TrmemWONeItxA8mMXtKiWxyoqU_IRFm1lfVdn2k7oZfH7/s1600/P1010278.JPG"><br /></a>After that it was time to head over to Bolivia. A short bus ride, and I encountered the most relaxed border crossing I've ever been to. I was the only gringo. There was a small bridge over a dry creek, with a passport office on the side. Despite it saying "Passport Office" in 6 languages (including Hebrew), I was the only person who actually used the passport office - everyone else just passed back and forth over the bridge, often pushing wagons covered in blankets, completely ignoring the armed border guards.<br /><br />Once in the passport office a disinterested Bolivian civil servant manning a dusty typewriter stamped my passport with a 30 day visa without even looking at me. I'm not saying this from experience, but if you ever find yourself on the run from the law in Argentina, definitely consider the La Quiaca/Villazon border crossing for making your escape.<br /></div><div> </div></div>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-82302754227338815412007-03-08T12:34:00.000-08:002010-02-22T15:08:44.158-08:00The White Whale Lives<p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/moses/archives/P4220014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 410px;" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/moses/archives/P4220014.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a>Like captain Ahab, we all have our particular White Whales we chase. Mine is an abandoned bridge in Buenos Aires. I can’t explain it. You’re either one of the small subset of people who see this and drool at the thought of climbing it, or you’re not.</p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/005_2b.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 629px; height: 397px;" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/005_2b.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I first encountered the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puente_Transbordador">Puente Transbordador</a> (also known as the Puente Avellaneda Antigua) during my first trip to Buenos Aires. It <a href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/moses/archives/011437.shtml" target="_blank">didn’t turn out so great</a>. I don’t really know when I first got it in my head I <a href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/void%280%29" title="005_2b.JPG"> </a>had to climb this thing - maybe because it was the first interesting structure I ran into in Buenos Aires. As is evidenced from the link above, it’s in a not-so-great part of town, but that’s not why I didn’t want to go at night. I really wanted the views - the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Estadio_Alberto_J._Armando">Bombanera</a> (the Boca Junior soccer club's stadium), downtown, the port. It’s also definitely not so structurally sound anymore, but I wasn’t really worried about <a href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/010_7b.JPG" target="_blank">how to climb it</a> or falling - I was worried about getting arrested. More specifically, I was worried about getting arrested in a foreign country.<br /></p><p>Knowing the local culture is a big, and underrated, part of going interesting places. In Paris or New York, I wouldn’t have thought twice about climbing the thing. Not because I wouldn’t get caught, but because I would know what to do it I was. In Argentina, I had no clue. Local gossip had it that the police were all lazy and corrupt, but what that meant in practicality I didn’t know. That they’d just let me go? That I should try to bribe them? That they’d haul me down to the station and throw me in jail where I’d quickly be forgotten about? That I’d end up being hustled for thousands of dollars by various bureaucrats and officials to get out of the situation? I never felt comfortable enough doing it during my stay in 2005, but I had resolved that one day, I would. After rolling back into town I had 24 hours to figure it out before I left for Northern Argentina. And in addition to the bridge, I wanted some good views I hadn’t been able to find last time. Luckily, I met an adorable Swedish tourist, and we decided to spend some time seeing what rooftops we could get onto.</p> <p>When in a strange city (or a familiar one for that matter) hotels are almost always your best bet for easily accessible rooftops. After a couple of false starts, we decided to hit the Sheraton near the Retiro train station north of downtown. In most non-English speaking countries, no matter how you’re dressed, no matter how fancy the hotel, if you walk in speaking English you’re almost always left alone. Here was no exception - we made out way out onto the roof with no problems at all.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISnxasl-H7Iv-9-L925bCRbkcOiLDrn-cQCqjJPokrpWy5mAgaDEZpZJiuri3iVJPWZNE1ULNQK8h8FNQQFate0o_Efl7PGXv_GzgDf-TlMPqGLJzp_fV5lkC67fWaYfZVqr-GXrMBp_9/s1600-h/P1010113.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 501px; height: 375px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISnxasl-H7Iv-9-L925bCRbkcOiLDrn-cQCqjJPokrpWy5mAgaDEZpZJiuri3iVJPWZNE1ULNQK8h8FNQQFate0o_Efl7PGXv_GzgDf-TlMPqGLJzp_fV5lkC67fWaYfZVqr-GXrMBp_9/s400/P1010113.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440469300437590322" border="0" /></a></p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/p1010112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 624px; height: 467px;" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/p1010112.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/n704761436_368505_4821.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 451px;" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/n704761436_368505_4821.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p>Now, when you have a evening in Buenos Aires with the company of a lovely lady, you don’t spend it climbing abandoned bridges. We spent the night dancing the tango in San Telmo, and after my companion had left early the next morning, I resolved to give the bridge one last shot before I had to leave. Unfortunately, sometimes these adventures are anti-climactic. Stationed right out front were these guys: not even cops, but naval officers.</p><p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/006_3a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 637px; height: 424px;" src="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/MosesGates/files/2008/11/006_3a.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I had one small hope though, which was that maybe this town, <a href="http://travel.allcitynewyork.com/2007/02/most-latin-country-in-world.html" target="_blank">like Paris</a>, was sufficiently Latin enough to just let me do whatever I wanted. After all, this is a town where a cabby’s favorite move while stopped at a red light is to pull into the oncoming traffic lane, pull around the cars in front of him, and blow right through the light - cops around or no. I went right up to the naval officers and told them I was climbing up the bridge to take pictures. I wasn’t really surprised when, despite my self-assurance, I was met with a resounding “no you aren’t.”</p> <p>I still kind of regret not just doing it. Forget about beautiful Swedes, angry naval officers, cultural uncertainly - there's a bridge to climb! Still, during moments like these - and they come for all of us - it’s always good to remember that the White Whale did end up killing Ahab.</p>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-4522827344470914282007-03-04T19:43:00.000-08:002010-02-25T22:15:43.761-08:00Tightrope on top of Sao Paulo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6NYa8k1pSuDmJgSCttQZKdJGZplDoE9hxSdZQY0oILZBG17cgFSWCq7rCaK1W1RHN_GLAp1kyTiiiUsc5Lnb01T53ajZeMWAAfhVd0vFnb3VYVSWwmNuolb6HFRKOKzCfMzhNhtUVoNR/s1600-h/Mirante+do+Vale+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6NYa8k1pSuDmJgSCttQZKdJGZplDoE9hxSdZQY0oILZBG17cgFSWCq7rCaK1W1RHN_GLAp1kyTiiiUsc5Lnb01T53ajZeMWAAfhVd0vFnb3VYVSWwmNuolb6HFRKOKzCfMzhNhtUVoNR/s400/Mirante+do+Vale+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426408141636636610" border="0" /></a><p>On my last day in Sao Paulo I decide to head up one more observation deck, the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edif%C3%ADcio_It%C3%A1lia">Edificio Italia</a> downtown. The Edificio Italia was erected by Sao Paulo’s Italian community (hence the name), and has both a restaurant and an observation deck at the top. Contrary to what a lot of guidebooks say, you don’t need to go to the restaurant in order to go to the observation deck if you go at certain times of the day. I head up there for the view, but end up encountering Gabriel, one of my companions from <a href="http://www.preservasp.org.br/">PreservaSP</a>, and his friend <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gutooo">Guto</a>. </p> <p>The Edificio Italia used to be the tallest building not just in Sao Paulo, but all of Brazil. That honor now belongs to the <a href="http://www.mirantedovale.com.br/">Mirante do Vale</a>, a residential building a little ways away. Downtown Sao Paulo is somewhat hilly, and despite being the tallest building it actually ends up being lower than some others due to do it being constructed in a valley. Still, we decided to see if they’d let us up on the roof. </p> <p>Sao Paulo is kind of schitzophrenic when it comes to residential security. Middle-class people tend to live in 30-40 story high-rises surrounded by fences, sometime topped with barbed or even electrified wires, and staffed 24-7 by security guards. You might think this would make for difficult access to the roofs of residential buildings. But no, we simply go up to reception and ask, and 5 minutes later a janitor is escorting us up. The elevators have an interesting transport philosophy - they stop halfway between two floors, with either a half-flight walk up or down stairs to get to the floor. This leads to half as many potential stops, and at least theoretically, less transportation time. </p> <p>We go to the top floor, walk up a flight of stairs, and the janitor unlocks the door. But we aren't on the roof yet. It turns out the top five stories don’t exist. Not empty floors, but non-existent floors. No floors, no ceilings, no walls. Just five-foot wide ledges surrounding nothing. We get up to the roof, half of which is actually a Helicopter Landing pad. The view is spectacular. </p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgp0UvuStpGFCArZKcPCMetdefGdGcRckGG36NtbMTC20Xm6axmt0MvFjvyt9FSnf6U6_bS8BnRtNlV1C6Chf8yZ_PL8b98nPlBqBEh642cIYsCXuvfghdiNo3mCVjodzNpNRjfKknI6P/s1600-h/Mirante+do+Vale+1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgp0UvuStpGFCArZKcPCMetdefGdGcRckGG36NtbMTC20Xm6axmt0MvFjvyt9FSnf6U6_bS8BnRtNlV1C6Chf8yZ_PL8b98nPlBqBEh642cIYsCXuvfghdiNo3mCVjodzNpNRjfKknI6P/s400/Mirante+do+Vale+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426428274514515458" border="0" /></a></p><span style="font-size:78%;">Top 5 stories of the Mirante do Vale</span><br /><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEv_Ewpo_cO7w2makzq1_-ukbndis3I39fg9mH9koorzsJM6PPUfnuVz6inNklo9hFmFWQ2gh7VMwWFdH-H3CRJj2UTBRxGbz_1kVAm3mK47bTGtLScZNVBTWmZjxvGYUlUfWRBzeJwR9b/s1600-h/Mirante+do+Vale+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEv_Ewpo_cO7w2makzq1_-ukbndis3I39fg9mH9koorzsJM6PPUfnuVz6inNklo9hFmFWQ2gh7VMwWFdH-H3CRJj2UTBRxGbz_1kVAm3mK47bTGtLScZNVBTWmZjxvGYUlUfWRBzeJwR9b/s400/Mirante+do+Vale+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426410432255525474" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Helicopter landing pad on the roof</span></p><p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9BGTHiKd5Ct2QWkdRSMGd2Aaw9IS0jA9pRdH_PIPe9j3AgpCTakFBMr5rpNVUDms80QCy9S4c2OfZ0eZbhtbZT0I4peauKAlhIOaZqzxRvIV6uh5irKvvVvbbvgOTI-lNgAOW9m6VDBev/s1600-h/Mirante+do+Vale+4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9BGTHiKd5Ct2QWkdRSMGd2Aaw9IS0jA9pRdH_PIPe9j3AgpCTakFBMr5rpNVUDms80QCy9S4c2OfZ0eZbhtbZT0I4peauKAlhIOaZqzxRvIV6uh5irKvvVvbbvgOTI-lNgAOW9m6VDBev/s400/Mirante+do+Vale+4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426410993804144082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">View northeast of the Edificios BANESPA and Banco do Brasil</span></p><p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialJbe6nLonKSWbwOBF9K4rG0TVEE_sw2TSy8_2unpfObQCSGS2ipGIEGmbtvdDFbes2BS-dJs98wuj-WiPZKDnT-jcIvrFB6UnPKlqzoxZ6FiwItPx21XzR0q7MhhJLwynPAEGeFhfeRW/s1600-h/P1010180.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialJbe6nLonKSWbwOBF9K4rG0TVEE_sw2TSy8_2unpfObQCSGS2ipGIEGmbtvdDFbes2BS-dJs98wuj-WiPZKDnT-jcIvrFB6UnPKlqzoxZ6FiwItPx21XzR0q7MhhJLwynPAEGeFhfeRW/s400/P1010180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426431479272996146" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">View South - you can see the antennas of Avenida Paulista off in the distance</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXynaz2o94QCS0fCHH7YikootA1Hh6RSLnlhoGgA99yvPvBH0FDr8ZNHX44VmvGUWAqgcvWOLScwjZTRx5lDBu-wKZphlLh1FScVUM_8lOtxQ5mStPVGz4ZhY5Hnd5qBAfZHWaoylUzn3/s1600-h/Mirante+do+Vale+7.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXynaz2o94QCS0fCHH7YikootA1Hh6RSLnlhoGgA99yvPvBH0FDr8ZNHX44VmvGUWAqgcvWOLScwjZTRx5lDBu-wKZphlLh1FScVUM_8lOtxQ5mStPVGz4ZhY5Hnd5qBAfZHWaoylUzn3/s400/Mirante+do+Vale+7.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426415825139013458" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Looking down on the Viaduto Santa Ifigenia</span><br /></p><p>The janitor hangs out while we go trampsing onto the other half - the aforementioned five-foot wide ledge. No guardrails, no nothing, with a 50-foot drop on one side, and 500-foot drop on the other. I cannot imagine anywhere in the United States letting us do this - for free no less.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-mvdpDr-zio0ynPkN1cJNRyKl59B2mn9FBsBsj-uvc_he7tkAV1hORuk3qgL9M_3xEv9Za4FMxztIMpoUMBaqjWfn32Wwlm4qqlFm8hfMyWvbtxS3RP8As2MEHxMXdlM3MVVTb-hFVGJ4/s1600-h/P1010199.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-mvdpDr-zio0ynPkN1cJNRyKl59B2mn9FBsBsj-uvc_he7tkAV1hORuk3qgL9M_3xEv9Za4FMxztIMpoUMBaqjWfn32Wwlm4qqlFm8hfMyWvbtxS3RP8As2MEHxMXdlM3MVVTb-hFVGJ4/s400/P1010199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426431780183457026" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><br />No liability insurance - no problem!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JOJhHMxQ63qYOrlb5RCuQdKc7qu674QWi1YzBPmCtLgXuXlHdiFC0UdviCr5Wnq_dcEt63aYMSKYRxiPX2zqKHPLpQKLH3P7o97i6wP950jibNBFNexuBnntw3theoBeCOopLDBq3Nvp/s1600-h/Mirante+do+Vale+6.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JOJhHMxQ63qYOrlb5RCuQdKc7qu674QWi1YzBPmCtLgXuXlHdiFC0UdviCr5Wnq_dcEt63aYMSKYRxiPX2zqKHPLpQKLH3P7o97i6wP950jibNBFNexuBnntw3theoBeCOopLDBq3Nvp/s400/Mirante+do+Vale+6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426415367279000450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Guto checking the camera</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbIbYK7tcNB8AMHR1NpkzunINjWh9Fzr5yt0FuR7BAkJfcUaC4wznTUo7a34lG_eRgIOr2u3mQigwZNbhOZSmrNMQ_VxS79p7gHym5RAj31AM3ptMIUaTovlhyS_fRG9U-PUz3mFYmxyH/s1600-h/Mirante+do+Vale+9.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbIbYK7tcNB8AMHR1NpkzunINjWh9Fzr5yt0FuR7BAkJfcUaC4wznTUo7a34lG_eRgIOr2u3mQigwZNbhOZSmrNMQ_VxS79p7gHym5RAj31AM3ptMIUaTovlhyS_fRG9U-PUz3mFYmxyH/s400/Mirante+do+Vale+9.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426412410148185314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Guto and Gabriel</span><br /><br />We hang out for a while, tip the janitor 10 Reals (about 4 dollars), and head back down. One more reason to love Brazil.<br /></p>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-91721328913291172392007-02-26T13:40:00.000-08:002009-11-01T17:18:09.100-08:00How to arrive in RioFor anyone traveling to Brazil, my advice is this: you’ll probably fly into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Sao</span> Paulo’s international airport. Stay two or three days in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Sao</span> Paulo, and then fly to Rio. If you fly directly to Rio, or if you transfer from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Sao</span> Paulo’s international airport to Rio, you’ll end up flying into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Galeao</span> airport, north of the city. However, if you go from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Congonhas</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Sao</span> Paulo’s domestic airport, you’ll be rewarded with one of the most spectacular flight descents in the world. The ascent from <a href="http://travel.allcitynewyork.com/2009/10/nostalgic-for-80s-new-york.html"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Sao</span> Paulo</a> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">isn</span>’t bad either - you get to see just how <a href="http://blogs.bootsnall.com/moses/archives/P1010220D.shtml">vast</a> the city really is. The only drawback is that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Congonas</span> <a href="http://aviation-safety.net/database/airport/airport.php?id=CGH#crashes">doesn't have the greatest safety record</a>. <p><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Sao</span> Paulo-Rio is the second-most traveled flight pattern in the world (Madrid-Barcelona is number one). Don’t worry about reservations - flights leave at least once an hour, and are usually more like once every half-hour. There’s even a dedicated ticket desk for “buy & fly” purchases -which <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">shouldn</span>’t cost you more than $100 US.</p><p>Now, don’t get on the next plane - at least not if you can’t get a window (that’s the whole point). Wait until the one after- you should pretty much have your pick of seats. Although both sides actually have great views, my advice is to sit on the left-hand side window. Rio’s domestic airport (Santos <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Dumont</span>) is a little two-runway job right next to downtown. This <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">isn</span>’t the difference between flying into JFK and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">LaGuardia</span> - flying into Santos <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Dumont</span> is basically the equivalent of flying into the Wall Street Heliport.<br /></p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396279258084203506" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEqnWFfTY8vNavRMhvzG3XibZBm_c1GSMVLigA-p13vL-GCiDmdn1FVY7wytEKW-wZU9DtMIa7CXdNf9qC_brqZHoqeyDixMa6IkLOJ5xRafzfD0xMEJp6wm4chBSPZqtICxQlYW_kdtB/s400/3.JPG" border="0" />Not only are the views astounding (and way better than my disposable-camera picture above), but you can grab your stuff and walk right into the middle of Rio. The subway - which will take you as far south as Copacabana - is only about a 15 minute walk through downtown.</p>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-54213658787897389012007-02-20T12:07:00.000-08:002009-10-17T12:08:29.885-07:00I ♥ Brazil<p>Whenever people tell me they’re taking a trip South America, I always give them the same advice - spend the entire time in Brazil. </p> <p>I spent a blisteringly cold day in New York upon my return from Europe - completely justifying to myself my choice to spend the winter elsewhere. After taking care of various errands, I was on an Aero Mexico flight to Sao Paulo. </p> <p>Never fly Aero Mexico. Upon arrival at the airport I was informed that they had lost my luggage, which they didn’t manage to find for a week. Plus it immediately started to rain nonstop about 2 hours after my arrival, putting the kibosh on my plans to visit abandoned mansions with a local architecture/exploration group there. </p> <p>Plans ruined, wet clothes, and not even a pair of dry socks to change into. I couldn’t have been happier. I was in Brazil. I don’t know what it is about the country, but it never fails to put me in good mood. Despite its social problems (which are bad, but maybe not quite as bad as is commonly thought in the U.S.), people are generally just very friendly, relaxed, affectionate, and in a good mood. It’s infectious - the general positive vibe is just in the air. Even in a town like Sao Paulo, which is known among Brazilians for being somewhat harried and business-like, this atmosphere can still work magic on your average New Yorker.</p> <p>The next day I went shopping for some clothes to tide me over. Now, I do have one small complaint about the country. Brazilians do not believe in Boxer Shorts. Or Boxer Briefs. Or, apparently, any type of underwear that wouldn’t be worn by your average 14-year old girl in the United States. But it’s a small complaint - not nearly as bad as my complaint against Aero Mexico: arriving in a foreign country for three months with what you’ve got on your back. A pair of shorts, a set of flips-flops, a decent shirt, three pairs of socks, and a three-pack of the tightest underwear I’ve ever worn later, I was good to go. Not even having to wear bikini briefs could bother me. I was in Brazil.</p>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-39218823001680284592007-02-13T07:24:00.000-08:002009-10-02T20:20:41.341-07:00Axis to Allies<p>We left Berlin and headed on our flight to London. We were pretty exited - we had plans to hook up with some locals, and spend 4 or 5 days really getting to know the town. I love the feeling of London in the winter - my father says it’s the kind of atmosphere where you “turn up your collar, light a cigarette, and walk away.”</p> <p>I had been to London before, but it was my first time in Berlin. Although I only spent about a day and a half there, it was enough to get a certain feel for the city. It actually reminded me a lot of New York, as much as any other city I´ve been to except perhaps Sao Paulo. The kicker was the subway - not only is it one of the largest systems in the world, it pulled something straight out the NYC Transit book - changing lines due to construction in the middle of the trip. And while not quite 24/7 like the NYC Subway, I think it´s the closest any other system comes: all night on weekends and only closed for about three hours at night on weekdays. When Berlin was divided, the subway would run through several ghost stations, complete with armed guards, in the eastern section before returning to the west.</p> <p>Today, you can hardly notice that Berlin ever was divided. For someone like me, who tends to anthropomorphize cities to a great degree, this isn´t very surprising. The idea of completely cutting a city in half (and not even along a natural boundary, such as a river) is almost unimaginable. Something as complicated as a world city, with subways, sewers, electric grids, water pipes, not to mention the natural economic and social flows of its citizens, can only be cut in half and stitched up on either side with crippling results. While I never got to see Berlin heal itself after the wall came down in 1989, I imagine it was quick, painless, and completely natural. Even after 28 years of separation, a city will fall into its natural state seamlessly, the way the body heals itself after a wound. </p> <p>London didn´t start off too well. Instead of adventures in drains and rooftops, we had adventures in hospitals and airports. Steve ended up laid up in the “Lord Wigram Ward” of the Chelsea and Westminster hospital, and had to take an early fight back home. Due to e-mail miscommunication I missed a chance to head into some drains and underground rivers (one of which, I am told, goes right underneath Buckingham Palace), and a friend I was going to see ended up being horribly ill for some of my stay, and in Liverpool for the rest. </p> <p>Four days in and I hadn’t really done a lot. I’d walked around a bit, and seen a few museums (almost all of which are free in London), including getting to ride the 5-story slide that’s a temporary exhibition at the Tate Modern. But I certainly hadn’t done anything interesting or fun. The highlight of my trip so far was meeting up with a friend in South London at, by far, the worst nightclub I had ever been to. Imagine a bunch of drunk Brits trying to dance to “Living on a Prayer.”</p> <p>By the time I had planned to leave, I was pretty frustrated with my time in England. That frustration, however, would change in a big way.</p>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-16235864704175731972007-02-10T09:29:00.000-08:002010-02-25T22:25:02.661-08:007 Days, 6, Cities, 5 Countries, 4 Languages - Third Man, Second Cousin, First Time EverywhereI blitzed Central Europe. Heading by overnight train out of Rome, we stopped for the afternoon in Venice, before continuing on to Vienna. Arriving at night, we spent the next 36 hours there before heading by bus to Prague. Two nights in Prague, and it’s on to Berlin. One night in Berlin, and it’s a van for two hours to Sczcecin, Poland. Count it up - it works. <p>General impressions are here, with more specifics to follow.</p> <p>Rome: Rome reminded me a lot of Washington, D.C. Government and Tourism are pretty much the whole economy, and everything touristy is mainly concentrated in a small section in the middle of the city. I liked the city, and it was fun to visit, but I didn’t really feel it.</p> <p>Venice: Venice is tourism - at least if you don’t have a boat and can visit the outlying islands. We couldn’t get away from it - overpriced cafes and tzotzcke shops everywhere. We did managed to find a couple of somewhat out-of-the way corners, but probably only because it was a nasty day in the off-season. I didn’t quite get the appeal of Venice, I have to say.</p> <p>Vienna: We were in Vienna for one reason: to go visit the <a href="http://axion.physics.ubc.ca/thirdman/thirdman.html#chase">underground river </a>that was used in Orsen Welles’ “<a href="http://www.filmsite.org/thir.html">The Third Man</a>.” The trip was kind of fun, if simple (and full of spiders) - peep the <a href="http://www.caveclan.com/">Cave Clan</a> tag we found in there!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAcKXBKnWgxIBrw4N3kmw5yLEFGhaPLesx28E38R8qPEYrQ-QODMtrn93-84iuH_7qyA1JTYhSy94_HUx51TeUkWgotFHVh2RqaaVtOSiTnoetanoqg9V-JNqmZ2kxRJbN5dRwQJLBzglF/s1600-h/P1010279.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAcKXBKnWgxIBrw4N3kmw5yLEFGhaPLesx28E38R8qPEYrQ-QODMtrn93-84iuH_7qyA1JTYhSy94_HUx51TeUkWgotFHVh2RqaaVtOSiTnoetanoqg9V-JNqmZ2kxRJbN5dRwQJLBzglF/s400/P1010279.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383395109345744034" border="0" /></a>The third man is basically a movie about Vienna - kind of the same way that “On the Town” is a movie about New York. The only other thing of note that we did was head up the spire of St. Stephen’s Cathedral in the middle of town, where the views were awful. Probably the worst observation deck I’ve been on. I didn’t much like Vienna as a whole.</p> <p>Prague: Prague is small, beautiful, cheap for Europe, and extremely touristy. I get the feeling there’s another layer of the city, probably pretty interesting, but one which foreigners will never know. Prague is not really a migrant city, and the population seems to pretty much consist of people there for a couple days and people there for life. Language is also a factor. There’s plenty of people who speak English, French, Spanish, even Portuguese and Italian as second languages. Nobody speaks Czech as a second language - not unless they marry a Czech person and move there. These two factors, at least to me, seem to indicate a city for tourists, a city for locals, and never the twain shall meet. </p> <p>Berlin: I actually really liked Berlin, which I was not expecting. In fact, even though I didn’t even spend 24 contiguous hours there, I think it deserves it’s own post. More to come.</p> <p>Sczcecin: Szczecin is not really on the typical European tour list. It’s not even one of those “off the beaten path” kind of cities, and visiting certainly never would have crossed my mind if I hadn’t had relatives there. Still, it was fairly interesting. A German city called Stettin until the end of WWII (today it’s right across the border, and most people visiting by air will fly into Berlin), it has Poland’s second-largest port, next to Gdansk, or Danzig. Architecture is one of three things: the old German City, Soviet era (basically concrete blocks), and post-Soviet era (basically the same concrete blocks, but sometimes with balconies, and painted purple or green). I was only there to visit my second cousin (well, first cousin twice removed, but second cousin fits in with the title better).<br /></p>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-58498914247444822952007-02-07T14:37:00.000-08:002012-06-23T16:10:54.781-07:00Vaccines, and how to get them for freeSo I sliced myself open trampsing around Brooklyn Census Tract 77, which reminded me I needed to get a tetanus shot, which reminded me to post my best advice about getting vaccinated if you're going traveling. And my best advice involves how to not pay for anything.<br /><br />There is really no reason you should shell out any dough for travel vaccines unless you're getting something exotic, which pretty much means Rabies or Typhoid. There's some other exotic vaccines (did you know there's a <a href="http://www.cdc.gov/mmwr/preview/mmwrhtml/00041848.htm">vaccine for the Plague</a>?), but they're generally needed only in very specific circumstances, or are considered ineffective for adults. I paid for Typhoid, but I wasn't working with wild animals , so I passed on Rabies.<br /><br />Now, it might be that this is what my 3.2% NYC income tax buys, and the idea of getting free vaccines elsewhere is a dream. But if you live in New York, there's no reason to pay the 3.2% income tax and your doctor a few hundred bucks more because your insurance (if you've even got it) doesn't cover vaccinations. For all routine jabs, skip your doctor and hit your local health clinic. In New York, there's actually <a href="http://www.nyc.gov/html/doh/html/imm/immclin.shtml">one in every borough</a> except Staten Island and Manhattan, open from 8:30 - 2:30 Monday through Thursday. I actually can't speak for other places, as I always went to the one on 28th and 9th in Manhattan that's closed now, but it was great. I went a half dozen times, never waited more than about an hour and a half, never had any hassle and never had to pay a dime. Get a DtaP (Tetanus, Diptheria, and Pertussis) and/or an MMR (Measles, Mumps, and Rubella) if you need it, and begin a three-shot series of Hep B at least 6 months before you leave. If you're leaving next week, get the first one or two anyway and the remainder when you get back - that should be sufficient to immunize you for the length of your trip.<br /><br />You can also get a Hep A, Meningococcal, Chickenpox, HPV, and/or Pneumococcal vaccine, which are supposed to only be given out to certain demographics they consider "at-risk." Meningococcal and Pneumococal I didn't think I needed, I've had the Chicken Pox, and the HPV vaccine is only for women, but I wanted Hep A. I was prepared to be an "at-risk" group if they asked me, but they never did. The first few times they said they were out, and the third time they sent me upstairs for the vaccine without asking me anything. Get there early and you've got a better chance. Hep A won't kill you, but it'll ruin your vacation. Hep A is a two-shot series - same advice as Hep B applies. I'm guessing this same general "don't ask, don't tell, smoke em' if you've got em' " deal applies to other vaccines also. It's not like the "at-risk" categories are super-narrow groupings where the clinic will require some kind of proof or documentation. For instance, just being a smoker puts you in the "at-risk" group for Pneumococcal, and being a gay male puts you in the at-risk group for Hep A.<br /><br />Another one you might need is Yellow Fever, depending on what country you're going to (Yellow Fever is endemic to Tropical South America and Africa). This actually has it's own certificate, and is a required vaccination in some circumstances. The thing is, countries that require Yellow Fever vaccination only require it if you're coming from an at-risk country. And the United States is not an at-risk country. So head over to your first destination, and get a Yellow Fever vaccine there. In all probability it'll be free. I can only vouch for this method in Argentina, where it was as simple as going to the tourist booth and asking where I could get a Yellow Fever vaccine.<br /><br />For more vaccine info, see the NYC Dept. of Health's <a href="http://www.nyc.gov/html/doh/html/imm/imm.shtml">Bureau of Immunization</a>, the Center for Diesese Control's <a href="http://wwwn.cdc.gov/travel/content/vaccinations.aspx">Vaccinations page</a>, and the UK-based <a href="http://www.thesite.org/travelandfreetime/travel/preparingtogo/vaccinations">The Site</a>.Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-59695943219631490332007-02-07T09:27:00.000-08:002009-09-21T19:02:24.639-07:00Hanging With the PopeWe headed out of Naples for Rome. Our stated mission was to break into the <a href="http://www.allcitynewyork.com/Rome">oldest sewer in the world</a>. But there was other stuff to see along the way. You don’t go to Rome without planning some appreciation for the two great historical institutions that have had their headquarters there: the Roman Empire and the Catholic Church.<br /><br />The first Catholic site I went to was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Peter%27s_Basilica">St. Peter’s Basilica </a>. In addition to being a historic, artistic, and architectural marvel, St. Peter’s actually has a remarkable amount of public access. In fact, you can see five different levels at one point. After checking out the interior, I headed up to the top.<br /><br />I took the stairs the whole way. After a few hundred steps, you’re out on a balcony on the inside overlooking the alter.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6yFzM2cWHunsK0GnwvY7yBvecpoqCBU1HCwJo-Ei1Bxe6WgbVE8kSQvrXfbyZ89VLOlpEBKStYf2Pjsl7wIkIPIE96AzmX_zko1v_XeWRWohyphenhyphenk5d7MKFFuqEP4FmwOEHgQtWg8CUc2FW-/s1600-h/P1010127.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6yFzM2cWHunsK0GnwvY7yBvecpoqCBU1HCwJo-Ei1Bxe6WgbVE8kSQvrXfbyZ89VLOlpEBKStYf2Pjsl7wIkIPIE96AzmX_zko1v_XeWRWohyphenhyphenk5d7MKFFuqEP4FmwOEHgQtWg8CUc2FW-/s400/P1010127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365035573543841394" border="0" /></a>From there, you head out to the lower roof.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxFc4_E8hx6pad0cuBt8NhFi8hTFMFEItHcFuuqILBEBvB8kpU0z0o55ogxK4rg2ayrr6UBtoAgtGNAPNlDEK-dQp0rxo_NPIYIsOSw3CJewBs2Prjz9J_8qCD2msFn_ai_sbzbeKVWNt/s1600-h/P1010124.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxFc4_E8hx6pad0cuBt8NhFi8hTFMFEItHcFuuqILBEBvB8kpU0z0o55ogxK4rg2ayrr6UBtoAgtGNAPNlDEK-dQp0rxo_NPIYIsOSw3CJewBs2Prjz9J_8qCD2msFn_ai_sbzbeKVWNt/s400/P1010124.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365035366830989714" border="0" /></a>Then a few hundred more steps and you’re rewarded with great views of Rome from the viewing terrace on top of the dome, which was designed by Michelangelo as one of his last works.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5t0a1ig9CKr27eB5sMojzrmWW99v5i8J6zoMPutv413_diFmKTLVm9lSwr7CSU_RDVdVsszCXIiEhxQJxl57AWSqx7FyEQ7n6Oej2X-zNWlDRlGch8BqCGRTg5uF8zkWwRzz-xNHo05F/s1600-h/P1010134.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5t0a1ig9CKr27eB5sMojzrmWW99v5i8J6zoMPutv413_diFmKTLVm9lSwr7CSU_RDVdVsszCXIiEhxQJxl57AWSqx7FyEQ7n6Oej2X-zNWlDRlGch8BqCGRTg5uF8zkWwRzz-xNHo05F/s400/P1010134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365037018824149074" border="0" /></a>he walk up itself was actually pretty fun. There’s about a dozen different types of staircases along the way, and at one point you actually have to learn about 20 degrees to the right while walking, to adjust for the slope of the dome.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2W7GXacsulgMgBWKo0hvLaC979ZwDb5QJm18GnWWqXWXUUbkeRETePRKm6wJTs0MRkN47hdyiUw3dQoGNLrVOMGK4yD7YzMR621k3APzvjzBBA12PVci-DtbHNVYcgmVwS4ud5qLgVV-D/s1600-h/P1010132.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2W7GXacsulgMgBWKo0hvLaC979ZwDb5QJm18GnWWqXWXUUbkeRETePRKm6wJTs0MRkN47hdyiUw3dQoGNLrVOMGK4yD7YzMR621k3APzvjzBBA12PVci-DtbHNVYcgmVwS4ud5qLgVV-D/s400/P1010132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365040164197670130" border="0" /></a>The other two levels are below. Underneath the alter is the tomb of the past popes, which is publicly accessible whenever the Basilica is open. And underneath that level is a fascinating archeological site. Tours are given semi-regularly, and we were lucky enough to catch one in English.<br /><br />Before there was a St. Peter’s Basilica - in fact before there was a St. Peter - the area west of the Tiber river was mainly a burial place. Underneath the Vatican is an entire “City of the Dead” - catacombs filled with Christian, Jewish, and Pagan burial sites. Over the years it’s been excavated, and now has periodic tours where you can also see the burial place of St. Peter. Our guide told us the long twisted take of discovering St. Peter’s remains - basically, since the Vatican’s nightmare was to not find St. Peter’s remains below the alter where they were supposed to be, excavation was held up for centuries. Eventually, remains were found matching the age, sex, and expiration date of the Basilica’s namesake. The final kicker that led the Vatican to declare they were St. Peter’s remains? Despite an abundance of hand and finger bones, there were no foot bones found. Legend has it that St. Peter was crucified upside-down. The easiest way to take a dead body off an upside-down cross? Chop off his feet at the ankles.<br /><br /><p>A lot of people mistakenly think that St. Peter’s Basilica is the seat of the Bishop of Rome - A.K.A. the Pope. Actually, that honor is held by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_John_Lateran">St. John Lateran </a>- or “The Cathedral Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and Saints John Baptist and John the Evangelist in the Lateran.” Cathedral because it contains a Cathedra, or seat of a Bishop. Archbasilica because as the seat of the Pope, it’s considered above all other basilicas. Most Holy Savior because all Patriarchal Basilicas consider Jesus to be the primary patron, with whoever they are named after (Paul, Peter, the Johns, and the Virgin Mary), as secondary patrons. Saint John the Baptist and the Evanglalist because it was actually dedicated twice, and they decided to keep them both. And in the Lateran, because the location is the site of the former palace of the Laterani family.</p> <p>I decided to head to St. John’s right after my visit to St. Peter’s. And after that, I decided to try and make a Grand Slam of the four <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilica#The_Major_Basilicas">Major Basilicas</a>. I headed to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilica_of_Saint_Paul_Outside_the_Walls">St. Paul’s Outside the Walls </a>next (which is supposedly above the burial place of St. Paul). St. Paul’s is most noteworthy for having a portrait of every Pope in history. When there’s no more room for another Pope, it signals (obviously) the end of the world. There’s eight spots left. For centuries, the Roman Catholic Church would not let any Non-Catholic Churches in the city of Rome. The name of the first one, an English language Anglican church? Why “St. Paul’s Inside the Walls” of course. I finished off the Grand Slam with a visit to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Maria_Maggiore">St. Mary Maggiore</a>, about a half-hour before it closed.</p> <p>The next day we went to see the <a href="http://mv.vatican.va/3_EN/pages/MV_Home.html">Vatican Museum </a>(best known for the <a href="http://mv.vatican.va/3_EN/pages/CSN/CSN_Main.html">Sistine Chapel</a> with the famous <a href="http://www.christusrex.org/www1/sistine/0-Ceiling.html">ceiling</a> by Michelangelo). The scene in the Chapel is half funny, half pitiful. It’s unbelievably crowded, and despite the prominently displayed “flashbulb with a slash through it” signs, you keep hearing is the guards saying “no flash, no flash” in a resigned voice about every 10 seconds. </p>In addition to the Vatican Museum, we also saw the Pope. It wasn’t too tough - you head to St. Peter’s on Tuesday, the Swiss Guards give you tickets (free of charge), and you show up the next day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihFcHY7hlv9NjsLpcAemEAZdy41Hj1R3fvV9GjgdrNxpg1GLhci_yarDAgLZy6kGO9JORxvPx1YtxwaQLuGDI8qecq94O1SuMEq3uDiehykyJZ-NjVf6EMzJMPDODpxRWSswfSNZFZ26X1/s1600-h/P1010191.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihFcHY7hlv9NjsLpcAemEAZdy41Hj1R3fvV9GjgdrNxpg1GLhci_yarDAgLZy6kGO9JORxvPx1YtxwaQLuGDI8qecq94O1SuMEq3uDiehykyJZ-NjVf6EMzJMPDODpxRWSswfSNZFZ26X1/s400/P1010191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365040645260282082" border="0" /></a><br />The whole thing was hilarious. The Pope reads a short statement in about a dozen different languages. Then after each time he reads it, he basically gives a shout-out to whoever happens to be there that speaks that language. If a group from a church in Uruguay is visiting (which they were), he’ll say something like “and I wish to welcome the congregation of St. Mary’s from Montevideo, Uruguay” after he’s done reading the statement in Spanish, and the aforementioned congregation will stands up and cheer and wave Uruguayan flags. Repeat for everyone else that’s there. At one point, I kid you not, a Marching Band stood up and played a few songs after their organization had been given a shout-out. Then after all of that the Pope blesses everything in the room, and that’s a wrap. It’s basically the same as going to a rap concert, but instead of “Is Brooklyn in the House?” it’s “is St. Stephen’s Church of Bratislava, Slovakia in the house?” And as said by Pope Benedict XVI instead of the Method Man.Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1898500128273899747.post-24640593225409506752007-01-30T19:09:00.000-08:002011-05-22T20:32:02.360-07:00Napoli on Tour<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">“Indiana Jones!!! Da-Da-Da-<em>Daaaah!!!</em>.” The short, elderly, and extremely energetic guide was shouting this non stop while nimbly racing through the 2-foot wide ancient Greek aqueduct tunnels 100 feet underneath the city. We were the only two participants on this particular Napoli Sotterranea tour - offered Saturday mornings only, from an obscure address in the Spanish Quarter.<br />
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The Spanish Quarter itself is one of the more interesting neighborhoods in Naples. Geographically, it lies directly west of the City Center on a gently sloping hill. Its narrow and compact streets from a grid, the only part of Naples that strictly follows this pattern. Socially, it’s a densely populated working-class, yet somewhat eccentric, neighborhood. This is the neighborhood where you’re most likely to run into a 6-year old riding backward a Vespa motor scooter being driven by his 9-year-old sister, or one the <em>femignelli</em>, as members of Naples’ venerable Transsexual community are called. <br />
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Below the Spanish quarter is even more interesting - it’s home to an extensive network of underground aqueducts and cisterns, many of which were turned into air-raid shelters during the war, including the one we were currently touring. Tours were only in Italian - other than “Look, Look!,” and “Ooh, La, La!” two phrases our guide used every couple of minutes. Steve mostly took pictures, but I tried my best to combine the various things that were pointed out with a basic knowledge of Romance languages and the copious use of hand gestures from our guide to get a sense of the stories he was trying to tell us. <br />
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From what I gathered, the house above where we entered had been the house our guide and his brother had grown up in. During World War II, when they were children, they had hidden in the old cistern below that had been turned into an air-raid shelter. After the war, illegal dumping from construction had filled in much of the old air-raid shelters and underground network. Later on, when they were adults, they had re-entered and excavated this old air-raid shelter and the surrounding network and started giving tours.<br />
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“Illegal” dumping is actually a strong, word - again, “extralegal” is probably the best term. In a city like Naples, bureaucracy, building codes, and paperwork are basically taken as, well, one of the many different ways of doing things. And post-war building almost never followed this official way. We encountered an interesting example in our journey through one of the underground tunnels we found. From what we could tell, it was designed and meant for use exclusively as a storm drain. However, we saw small sewer pipes every once in a while flowing into the drain. During the post-war building boom, if it were easier and cheaper to just connect nearby buildings’ sewage systems to this storm drain instead of an actual sewer, no doubt a way was found to make it happen.<br />
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Among the other stories I managed to semi-understand were that of a pregnant woman giving birth on the stairs down to the air-raid shelter (who later on got in touch with him through a reporter), the damp air being used for the development of penicillin, and how the toilets were right next to the bottom of the stairs. Why? Well, if you’re in imminent danger of having a bomb level your house, what’s the first way your body might react? <br />
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All in all, it was a great tour. We emerged out of a nondescript door in a nondescript alley, with a nondescript middle-aged Italian woman staring at us. Those are the entrances to the fascinating underground world of Naples. Not manholes, not anything really even publicly accessible. They’re in people’s houses, or hidden in plain sight. In Naples, not just for the underground but really for anything, knowledge and access are gained through people, relationships, not through internet research or random poking around. While developing those relationships in one conversation is certainly not unheard of (Steve managed to talk his way into a Greek and Roman excavation site beneath a Church, for instance) they can often take lifetimes to develop, if not generations. <br />
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Luckily for us, there were a few organizations, institutions, and just quirky individuals (such as our aforementioned Indians Jones impersonator) who gave tours, or at least provided varying degrees of public access, to a good amount of the <a href="http://www.napoli.com/english/sotterranea2.php">fascinating underground infrastructure </a>of the cities. We got to see old air-raid shelters, catacombs, crypts, aqueducts, and archeological sites legally - a great deal more (and better) stuff than we got to see during our extralegal excursions. We could have seen even more if we hadn’t come during the winter, including the fascinating <a href="http://www.napoli.com/english/viewarticolo.php?articolo=11070">Fontanelle Cemetery</a>, closed until April. <br />
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And of course we made time to take a day trip to climb <a href="http://www.vesuvioinrete.it/e_index.htm">Mt. Vesuvius </a>(my first time seeing an active volcano) and explore the ruins of <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/pompeii_portents_01.shtml">Pompeii</a> as well. While there, I of course could help but engage in a tiny bit of just slightly extralegal underground exploration. One of the ancient houses had a grate in front of it. Removing this revealed a staircase that led to a small basement below. I could a quick look and headed back up - only realizing afterward that this was probably the oldest underground space I had ever been in.</div>Moses Gateshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05627000222547637345noreply@blogger.com1