Ni Dieu Ni Maitre

The Going Itself is the Way

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  • Wait! I’ve got RABIES!

    Oh, those playful street dogs on Sarvodaya road that sleep in the shade all day and get frisky once the sun goes down. What fun we have, frolicking in the road as I wander along, past the dozen or more places to eat… But wait! There’s blood on my wrist and a scrape from a friendly chomp on my arm…

    As a longtime bicycle tourist, there have been more than a few run-ins with unfriendly dogs over the years. An old movie that still runs through my brain is an episode in Nova Scotia, back in the 1970’s. I’m riding, or rather coasting, full speed ahead down a long descent on one of my earlier touring bicycles, the freewheel clicking just like a movie projector (one of many jobs I had in my youth was as a projectionist in a small art theater). I’m sitting up on the bike, watching the movie unfold as I speed down the mountainside. In the distance is a lonely house on the roadside, and a small dog, very angry, is barking loudly and rushing out of his yard to intercept me as I go past… but coming uphill there is a speeding pick-up truck. Oh, no, I think, watching the movie unfold before my eyes and sure enough that damn dog runs out full speed ahead into the path of the pick-up. Bammo!, as I speed past the driveway and the truck doesn’t even slow down. Nor do I.

    Having a bit of trouble with the completely unrelated photos.

    Anyway, nobody in the neighborhood knew anything about the ownership of these dogs, and so, as is the case with a bite from any potential rabies carrying animal, a trip to the hospital and a series of shots over a period of weeks was called for. Rabies is 100% fatal if left untreated, so we err on the side of caution.

    By the bye, in all my years of bicycle touring, I’ve never been bitten by a dog. Chased, of course. One dog gets a well placed kick, several dogs, it’s get off the bike and pick up a rock… this is universal dog language for run away, works on all 5 continents where I’ve used it. Or even pretend to pick up a rock if none is available.

    Also on Sarvodaya road.

    Here it is a week later and I remain as hotel manager/only guest. I paid the brother-in-law for 10 days, and off he went to Columbo. Another 10 days rent is due tomorrow, so I am expecting his return… I’m feeding his 2 cats exclusively on milk. They seem to be doing fine and we are now best friends. The idiot’s war has killed the tourist season here and gas plus petrol rationing is in place.

    Reading tons of news lately, almost all very bad indeed. Send the navy into the Gulf, I certainly hope not. Land the Marines in Iran? Good grief! His raging egomania won’t allow for a retreat or negotiations. Keep well, all.

  • How I became a hotel manager (for a day).

    Arriving in Trincomalee in early February, was it?, I was accosted by the usual station tuk-tuk driver preying on the sleep deprived tourist from the overnight train, overcharged triple for a ride to the hotel which he had a deal with where I was overcharged double for a room. This is pretty normal on arrival anywhere if you haven’t booked in advance.

    And so, after ample sleep, the next thing on the agenda was finding a budget hotel near the beach. Walking several kilometers along the north/ south road led to Sarvodaya Road, running westward to the beach. This is the main tourist road, and the featured photos are of some of the multitude of restaurants along this road.

    A favorite.

    I asked about rooms and prices all along this road, and at the end, I wandered down a side road a few steps, running into Mr. Hameed, manager of the Wings hotel, a very pleasant person who had a nice non-AC room for a good price. I have been actually the only guest here for the last 5 weeks. Tourists are very thin on the ground as this is not the ‘season’, and now with Trumpy’s idiotic war it seems that there may be no season at all this year.

    The owner of Wings, Mr. Farook and his wife have spent their working lives in Sweden, providing them with enough money to buy this small hotel, and Hameed is their brother-in-law… both heads of Muslim families.

    At the moment, the Farooks have gone to Sweden for 5 or 6 weeks to wrap up their business there and visit their children who live in Europe. Mrs. Farook, sister of Hameed, showed me how to run things at the hotel, saying “‘I don’t trust Hameed.”

    Cappucino and nice light breakfasts, as well as lunch and dinner.

    Well, last evening Mr. Hameed, really a very nice fellow, if a little befuddled at times, knocked on my door to announce that he and his family were leaving for Columbo immediately. He gave me the keys, a short course on how to close up and lock everything and open up again, and they were off. For how long? He forgot to mention this…

    A nice family run place. Many of these places are family run, and the menus are generally identical, lots of seafood, rice, pasta, kottu, soups and salads.

    Well, my sole desire is to snag another customer for the hotel, which is decent enough, but with the dearth of tourists and our location right at the end of a street lined with hotels and restaurants… pretty unlikely.

    And the bulk of western tourists who do come in arrive in pre-booked groups, staying for a day or two. For me, this quiet eastern beach scene is preferable to the much more bustling scene at Negombo on the western shore and unfortunately catching the pollution from Columbo. Air quality in Uppeveli has been consistently good, the surf fairly rough after storms but otherwise mild, the food… somewhat repetitive and heavy on the seafood… trying mightily to not gain weight here.

    Next up, bicycle rentals and a ride to Trinco.

  • The country with the most official holidays.

    Christian, Hindu, Moslem, Buddhist, Official, the Lankans are happy to celebrate them all. Not that there haven’t been serious incidents of sectarian strife over the years… ‘your holiday is my holiday’ rules. At the end of February, the weather began to change. The prevailing strong cool breeze out of the west slackened, the surf became calmer and the levels of air pollution, so attractive when I decided to come here, have risen, particularly in the mornings. After somewhat unhealthy readings in the morning and a day of a sky of blue haze all day, the afternoon readings are an AQI of 69… acceptable, but much higher than in February.

    Tuk-tuk seat cover. Lankans are not at all anti-American… at least not yet.

    Writing this post after several days of very distressing news from Trump and the chumps over Iran… but you are well aware of this, and I’m still on the sunny beach. Reading a lot of international news every day generally fails to depress me, but this latest international fiasco has hit pretty hard. So much for the Nobel Peace Prize for the creator of the Department of War and his clown show of stupid incompetents. Ghastly. Murderous.

    High ground is miles and miles inland… Tsunamis occur with low frequency around here, possibly once in a decade. Bicycled over to Nilaveli beach, 10km north of here on a very uncomfortable, smallish one speed. Forgot how difficult it is to climb a hill on a one speed! Not too much to see there at all, although there was a crocodile farm. I was too beat up and exhausted to bother, hoping just to make it back in one piece. Sore for the next 2 days.

    This is Sam, half Lankan who lives in England. Had dinner with his wife and lovely daughter later. She lives and works here up in the north. I’m a bit surprised how many people I meet here who are well travelled, knowledgeable and with world views quite similar to my own.

    Walking out of a coffee shop after a cappucino, I heard Sonny playing a very good Robert Johnson tune on his slide guitar. “King of the Delta Blues!” sez I. And we hit it off right away. Got invited to a jam session at a restaurant later in the evening and had a fun time there.

    His brother plays the harmonica quite well also. These four young folks were quite interested in America, its music and history. Quite fun to talk to, and I continue to impress Lankans and any other interested parties with the fact that I met Bob Marley, spoke with him and shook his hand years ago in Boston. Like pretty much everyone, they have moved on after three or four days here. My hotel owner and his wife invited me up to their place for dinner, and they are going back to Sweden, where they have spent many decades, for seven weeks or so. They have given me the keys to the hotel and the use of their washing machine and kitchen for that period. This is still slack time for tourism here and I am the only guest… The brother in law, Mr. Hameed, will be in charge while they are away.

  • Taking a Deep Breath

    In a study of nearly 28 million older Americans, long-term exposure to fine particle air pollution raised the risk of Alzheimer’s disease. That link held even after researchers accounted for common conditions like high blood pressure, stroke and depression. Fine particle air pollution, known as PM2.5, consists of tiny particles in the air that come from car exhaust, power plants, wildfires, and burning fuels, according to the American Lung Association. They are small enough to travel deep into the lungs and even reach the bloodstream.

    The research, conducted at Emory University and published in PLOS Medicine, tracked health data over nearly two decades to explore whether air pollution harms the brain indirectly by causing high blood pressure or heart disease, which, in turn, leads to dementia. However, these “middleman” conditions accounted for less than 5% of the connection between pollution and Alzheimer’s, the research found. The researchers say this suggests that over 95% of the Alzheimer’s risk comes from the direct impact of breathing in dirty air, likely through inflammation or damage to brain cells.    “The relationship between PM2.5 and AD [Alzheimer’s disease] has been shown to be pretty much linear,” said Kyle Steenland, a professor in the departments of environmental health and epidemiology at the Rollins School of Public Health at Emory University, and senior author of the study. “The reason this is particularly important is that PM2.5 is known to be associated with high blood pressure, stroke and depression — all of which are associated with AD. So, from a prevention standpoint, simply treating these diseases will not get rid of the problem. We have to address exposure to PM2.5.”

    What? Me worry?

    Did Trump and the Chumps get the message… Oh, wait, they’re in the process of making things WORSE! Ah, well, life goes on. But not for a lot longer, I fear. Elon Musk is prepared to ‘save civilization’, he says, by building a bunker on the moon for himself. He has also not gotten the message, There is no planet B.

    My English friends. We meet for breakfast and in the later afternoon down on the beach for a drink. This is their 12th year in Sri Lanka for 3 months. The weather, to really everyone’s surprise, has turned cooler and overcast… not actually cool, of course. And the sea is rough, waves hitting with enough punch to knock me down, even though they are small. There are not many tourists here as it is not the ‘season’. Somehow, and for some reason, this starts in April, when all the currently nearly empty hotels and restaurants fill up for several months.

    Justin, also English and a big cricket fan. We watched several matches in the evenings over dinner. I have learned about 50% of cricket terms and rules after spending well over a year between India and SL. It’s not as boring as golf, but less exciting than baseball. Certainly lots of the former British colonies are serious participants, and the USA also has a team (of Asian Americans).

    Hans, a Dutchman, and another Lanka regular, riding around on a motorbike. We were regulars at the Home Plate restaurant until he rode off to Jaffna in the far north of the island.

    My hotel owner and the manager tried to talk me into going to Jaffna with them, but after 2 last minute postponements, I gave up. Finally they took off one morning, got a flat in the middle of… and discovered that they had no spare tire. Their verdict on Jaffna? Just another small city without much to offer.

    As overcast as it has been, there’s been very little actual rain, and that mostly in the night. Well, off to a long walk down the beach for that Lion Stout. Life is low key and with a quite pleasant routine.

  • The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

    That’s my political commentary for the day. That, and when the notable Fascist Benito Mussolini was asked by a reporter what the philosophical underpinnings of fascism were, he replied, “We don’t think, we act!”

    This stupa is in the downtown area of Colombo, Sri Lanka, right next door to my very small and inexpensive hotel. Landing at the airport, I wisely located a shuttle bus for Colombo, avoiding a $35 taxi fare. Like the other 4 westerners aboard, once we had arrived in the city, I just got off where there were tuk-tuks, showed the address of my hotel to a driver who located it on his phone and GPSed us right there. Jet lagged, I stayed in Colombo for several days.

    This is a huge, clean and relatively modern city, basically of little interest. A small and accessible urban neighborhood provided food, necessities and the occasional beer. Surprisingly, it also supported quite a few Western tourists in the upscale hotels there. Unlike India, walking there featured a timed walk light across a busy avenue, and a crosswalk at the next street, totally accepted by the motorists at the smaller crossing.

    I had decided to go to Trincomalee, a port city on the east coast and to the nearby beaches of Uppeveli and Nilaveli on the overnight train. Still not really over the jetlag, a sleepless 9 hour night on a train was a bit much. Arriving at pre-dawn, a ‘helpful’ tuk-tuk driver took me to a beach hotel in Uppeveli, where I was overcharged quite a bit for a room for 2 nights. But sleep… beautiful, restful sleep.

    Not really sure what this prominent Colombo tower is, but it lights up at night and changes colors. Anyhow, the hotel thing was solved the next day, walking around the fairly compact precincts of the beach and settling with the manager of the new spot for an extended stay at a good price.

    Storm moving over a deserted end of the beach. The first week here there was rain on and off, but not problematic at all.

    Goya… sleeping.

  • Disaster strikes.

    This post is out of sequence, as a retrospective on India was planned. As has always happened, the departure from India was part ‘never again’ based on the outrageous and continuing pollution of the atmosphere throughout the subcontinent, and a desire to visit the Northeastern states which currently mostly feature clean air and diverse cultures. Some other time.

    But onward. I flew from Dabolim in Goa to an airport in Hyderabad, Eastern India, and thence to Bangkok where things went south in a hurry. Attempting to get some Thai Bhat from an ATM at the airport, the message came up ‘Card Cancelled’ and the card was swallowed by the machine. I had only the one old card, as the replacement card had never arrived at my hotel at Colva Beach. A card which had been misfiring was all I had, and the never appearing replacement card had been cancelled at my request.

    At first I blamed the bank and their ATM for the trouble and after much wrangling with various staffers, a technician was summoned to retrieve the card, much to my relief. We, three bank staffers and I, went to another airport ATM where the card was again shown as cancelled and swallowed. Done and done!

    I had an ongoing flight to Chiang Mai in the north and a one night hotel reservation there, so changing in my small amount of Indian rupees I flew north, basically penniless, in a country where I knew not a soul.

    Really, my only option at this point was the US Consulate in Chiang Mai, and in the morning I arranged an appointment for that afternoon. The previous day of three flights I had only eaten a packet of cashews purchased on my last flight. This day, after my consular appointment, I had enough bhats to buy a packet of peanuts. Unintentional weight loss… Things at the consulate were a bit weird. The outside Thai staff seemed to have been selected for their inability to speak English, though they were friendly and tried to be helpful. Once inside, in a sterile and overcooled large room, I was directed to a solitary cubicle, separated from the staff by several inches of bullet-proof glass with a narrow slot to push paperwork through. My first contact was with a friendly and helpful Thai woman as I waited on the arrival of a consular official in the chilly cubicle. This fellow seemed peeved at having to actually do something to earn his salary (the rest of the larger office, with its numerous numbered bulletproof windows remained totally empty during my three and a half hours of filling out forms and hanging around).

    In any event, after hours of this I received a plane ticket back to Boston, enough Bhats to get to the airport and $60. I was also informed by this American functionary that he was cancelling my passport, something which no one has ever been able to explain to me, including the Department of State, who finally concluded that ‘such matters are at the discretion of the American consul. Dickhead.

    (just random stock photos on this page)

  • Lost in Space

    If you were able to access my posts, Obsessing and Obsessing 2, you are aware that the big concern over the next move has been Air Quality and the Air Quality Index (AQI), with air pollution being a massive problem these days in India especially. Now added to this is the winter monsoon in the North and East of Sri Lanka. Trinconmalee on the east coast seemed like a great destination and ‘what’s a little rain’? Well, it’s a monsoon! And the North and East of SL are smack in the midst of several months of it. (pics are from an earlier bicycle tour in Sri Lanka)

    Makena Beach, Maui, 1970. I lived in a huge tent in a soaking December with a half dozen friends, the Perverted Pirates, so called although they were just a bunch of male and female kids from California. It rained day and night for the whole month, often torrentially. Fortunately, the pirates had a large stash of opiated hash and most of the month went by in a daze, up on one elbow occasionally to pass the pipe. And I experienced the Indian monsoon when I bicycled from the dry areas north of the first range of the Himalayas over the pass to the south and the incredible rains of that monsoon… No thank you!

    So, in addition to watching a half a dozen AQI readings daily, now I’ve got the monsoon watch. The latest on AQI is some rather distressing news. Wondering about the accuracy of Accuweather reports on my phone, both on weather and air quality, I checked Weather Underground and IQAir sites on the laptop for comparisons. And, by gum, the 2 weather sites can’t even agree on whether it’s raining or sunny in various places.

    But the kicker is the 3 AQI reports on the same cities in the same hour at midday. Two only for Colva Beach, AQI 70 or 107. Three for Guwahati, 66, 84, and135! Same place, same hour… Thiruvananthapuram, way south of here in Kerala state, another place I’ve been thinking of going, 43, 73, 92! Negombo, where I was previously, 27, 34, 91! You can see the dilemma. What to believe when the data is crap. I’m tracking 8 cities and 6 of the much higher readings are from Accuweather, which has been my main source for the last while.

    This 6 foot long monitor lizard doesn’t mind the rain at all. Photographed from a footbridge above.

    So, I’m sitting here in Colva, taking long walks of 4 to 6 miles on days when the supposed AQI seems lower, in the 60 to 70 range. My ‘travel’ plan has quickly evolved into getting somewhere and squatting for weeks and weeks. This is probably according to plan as I recorded much of my massive jazz cd collection onto my backup hard drive as well as a lot of my classical collection. I have video games to play, movies and TV series to watch, live feeds of the Celtics and Patriots games that I can watch on late nights and early mornings, novels to read, massive doses of International news and some US. This mess doesn’t depress me. I guess I’m inured to it all, more and more bad news every day. But at 80, I’m just an observer now and taking it easy.

  • Beers of Goa

    I like to drink beer, and am always curious about new beers. That said, Indian and Southeast Asian beers have been nothing to crow about for the many decades I’ve bicycled around these parts. The only American mass beer that uses rice in their mash is Budweiser, but most beers here do also. Bud uses 30% rice to make beer that is lighter in color, crisper and pretty flavorless. No surprise really that Bud is now the number 2 beer in Goa. Kingfisher, always the big dog here, remains #1.

    This is the only bottle of Kingfisher wheat beer that I’ve found, and it is pretty innocuous. The Bud Magnum is popular here as is regular Bud. Supposedly this is 8% ABV, but it is actually pretty good.

    You cannot go wrong copying Belgian beer. The Maka is good, better than the competition. Additionally Tuborg, and Carlsberg put in appearances here but are ricey and light. Heineken is here also, but is ‘100% Barley Malt’ and is the best of the import bunch.

    Peoples Lager, a craft beer, is pretty available in shops and restaurants and is OK, but pricier. Here is their ‘Wit’, Belgian style. The Aussie beer was expensive and nothing special.

    This Maka product is fortified grape juice, not beer, but it is 15%. The Elephant is true to its European origin at 8% .

    Here’s a couple of winners, a real malt beer made from barley with no rice, and a Maka Tripel at 8%, miles away from a Rochefort or other Trappist made Belgian brews, but decent enough. India has a tradition of ‘strong beers’ with names like ‘Knockout’ and they are pretty undrinkable but the craft brewed strong beers are decent.

    ‘Who was the first hippie to visit Goa? Or rather, ever wonder? Who was the first tourist to visit the state after the liberation? Well, the search is over. Yertward Mazamanian (1924 – 2010) popularly known as ‘Eight Finger Eddie’, was the first hippie to visit Goa and eventually introduced Goa to the hippies. Thus, Putting Goa on the hippie trail and the world map.’

    I never knew this. But these 2 beers from Goa Brewing are top notch, with Plastic Chairs going into my good column of beers that I look forward to enjoying. And lastly…

    “Plastic people, oh baby now you’re such a drag” Frank Zappa.

  • Another attempt to add a post

    I see that ‘Ni Dieu Ni Maitre’ is nowhere mentioned in the headers over this post. So it too will probably not appear on ‘my’ blog And it’s ‘my’ problem. What a cheezy rip off.

    Why do the cows love the beach? This area is deserted, no people, no discarded food, just sand and sea.

    In any event, the rainy days have ended at Colva and with each day that passes the Air Qualitry Index shoots back up 10 or 15 points. Yesterday it was 83, poor. So I’m searching for clean air somewhere. I’ve got 5 possibilities that I’m watching, but it has been disappointing. Pokhara, in Nepal, near the foot of the majestic Annapurna, is posting an AQI of 104! Classified unhealthy, and this a famous trekking spot where I was hoping to hike.

    Trinconmalee, or Trinco, on the East coast of Sri Lanka, is posting around 50, which I could accept since there are (or were) some nice quiet beaches north of this city… even deserted beaches 15 years ago. Ankola, another Indian beach town in Karnataka state south of Goa is posting about the same as Trinco, but it may be raining in both places.

    Here’s a Hindu festival in Colva. Hundreds of women in their nicest saris lined the beach near twilight, for a quarter mile, setting up tripods and offerings to assure good fortune to their families and particularly their husbands, to the tune of lots of firecrackers. No idea if this went on all night…

    A dinner guest arrives!

    Well that’s about it, eating well, sleeping well, keeping within my budget and enjoying good health. Hope everyone is doing the same!

  • Strolling along the beach.

    Put on my hiking boots and set out after breakfast for a walk to Benaulim beach, a few KM south. I had heard that there was some night life there and no crowds with a vibrant fishing community active as well. Sounded ideal.

    This beach stretches for miles and miles. The recently wetted sand provides a solid surface to walk along. Spotted some small plover-type shore birds and some fisher hawks as well.

    Wandering through the boats. I don’t think these fishermen venture out of sight of land, but they are motorized. Arriving in Benaulim, I was pretty well fagged out and sat over a cup of coffee for about an hour. What a pleasant place! I noticed that the ‘beach shacks’ had their signs in more Russian than English

    Having recovered it was time to check out the hotel scene, back off the beach. Actually, there wasn’t much. A new, large and fancy gated community, and another upscale place with very nice cabanas for double what I’m paying in Colva. More looking turned up nothing. Back to the beach for lunch and a beer. If only I could find a reasonable place to stay for a price I could afford… this is a very attractive and quiet beach.

    Heading back, I quickly saw another place to stay, a bunch of dismal looking square wooden boxes or cabins which bore looking at. The price with no a/c or wi-fi, more than what I’m paying in Colva… to live in a box! Well, so much for Benaulim.

    And a slow trek back up the beach to Colva. Eventually I will take a shot at Palolem beach, further south, and a place I have been before. After nearly 15 years it’s hard to know what to expect.

    Colva again.