Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts

Thursday, June 23, 2011

If you pack a vibrator, don't get shaken by TSA


 via The San Francisco Chronicles

This article is for all people planning to travel for the Pride celebrations this weekend.

Even in these jittery times, can any air traveler be expected to part willingly with his precious electronic devices?

And not just devices that play music or games. But devices that play. Or, to put it another way, devices that jitter.

Those devices.

The Transportation Safety Administration, whose job it is to consider fully such matters, has decreed that vibrators are OK. The TSA says whips, chains, leashes, restraints and manacles are OK, too. Any law-abiding citizen has the right to carry any such device onto an airplane.

So why are so many otherwise sensible travelers reluctant to do so? Why is there embarrassment and shame, hemming and hawing? It's all so unnecessary, say experts, because traveling with an electric vibrator need be no more difficult than traveling with other problematic items, such as aerosols or toddlers.

Being nervous is counterproductive. Inspectors are trained to spot nervous passengers, resulting in extra scrutiny and more nervousness.

TSA  spokesman Nico Melendez said passengers could save time with a little common sense. Inspectors are doing their job. They are trained professionals and they know a vibrator when they see one. They will not confiscate a vibrator. But they are trained to pay attention to electronic devices.

"Inspectors inspect," he said. "If you don't want us to see it, don't bring it."

Carol Queen, the celebrated San Francisco sex expert, lecturer and proprietor of the Good Vibrations chain of sex stores, has traveled the world with her carry-on bags full of vibrators and other paraphernalia. Vibrators, she says, are not the problem. Shame about vibrators is the problem.

"There's no reason to be embarrassed," said Queen. "If an inspector asks you about it, look him in the eye and tell him it's your vibrator."

Read more.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Don't Let HIV Dampen Your Wanderlust


Having HIV should not impose too many restrictions on your travel options, though you may need to do a little planning and research before you book your trip.
Global Database on HIV-specific travel and residence restrictions
There are some simple steps all HIV-positive tourists can take regardless of their destinations to minimize chances of undue customs delays or outright deportation:
* Look healthy. Travelers who appear to be ill are likely to be targeted for indepth questioning or inspections.
* Be discreet and polite.Don’t draw any undue attention to yourself that could cause customs officials to pull you aside.
* Don’t advertise the fact that you’re HIV-positive. It pains me to have to give that kind of advice, but you might not want to wear a PLWHA t-shirt.
* Keep your anti-HIV medications in their original bottles and do not attempt to hide the containers. If you’re hiding them customs officials may think they contain contraband and may hold you to verify that they are permitted into the country.Opening packages or taking pills out of their prescription bottles will delay your time in security.
*Pack extra medicine and supplies when traveling in case you are away from home longer than you expect or there are travel delays.
*If you are taking injectable medications (e.g., Fuzeon, insulin, testosterone) you must have the medication along with you in order to carry empty syringes.
*Depending on the circumstances it may be worthwhile taking along a doctor’s certificate (in English) which shows that the holder is reliant on the medication and that it has been prescribed by the doctor.Carry a copy of your prescriptions in your carry-on, purse, or wallet when you travel.
*You can ask and are entitled to a private screening to maintain your confidentiality. Show copies of your prescriptions and/or your medication bottles and if you have any problems ask to see a supervisor.
In general, the above points apply to entering countries with ambiguous or restrictive regulations: as long as the HIV positive status does not become known, there will be no serious problems for a tourist. However, if someone is suspected of being HIV positive or if the authorities have concrete reasons to believe they are, entry may be refused.
My philosophy on the whole issue is that it’s not an issue, so I don’t present it as one. And I’ve never had any problems over the years of extensive travel.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Diwali Launch for Nepal's First Openly Gay Travel Company



via Fast Company, by Jenara Nerenberg 

Computer Scientist turned gay activist turned Parliamentarian, Sunil Pant (and LifeLube hero, by the way), is the founder of Pink Mountain Travels and Tours. He's spearheading the effort to make Nepal a gay-friendly tourist destination, and he's pressuring the conservative Hindu nation to legalize gay marriage.

Read the rest.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Transgender Individuals Do Not Require Surgery to Get a Passport ‎


Via Washington Post:

The State Department has revised its policy on changing passports for transgender people, announcing Wednesday night that a doctor's note will now suffice in such cases.

Previously, the State Department had required that a person undergo sexual reassignment surgery before it would change the passport. The policy had outraged transgender advocates, who called for an updated approach.

Under the new policy, which takes effect Thursday, a doctor must attest that the person is undergoing clinical treatment for gender transition, State said. Limited-validity passports will also be available to applicants in the process of gender transition, the department added.

State noted that its policy is "based on standards and recommendations of the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), recognized by the American Medical Association as the authority in this field."

The department also stressed that passport-issuing officials "will only ask appropriate questions to obtain information necessary to determine citizenship and identity."

The new policy is based on recommendations from the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), widely recognized as a leading authority on transgender issues.


Read the rest...

Monday, January 4, 2010

HIV/AIDS Travel Ban Lifted - OFFICIALLY



via Advocate.com

The United States on Monday lifted the 22-year-old ban that prevented anyone with HIV or AIDS from entering the country.

President Barack Obama announced the change in October, calling the ban incompatible with the American goal to be a leader in the fight against HIV/AIDS. The country is scheduled to host a biannual global HIV/AIDS summit for the first time in 2012, according to the BBC.

“The ban was imposed at the height of a global panic about the disease at the end of the 1980s,” reports the BBC. “It put the U.S. in a group of just 12 countries, also including Libya and Saudi Arabia, that excluded anyone suffering from HIV/AIDS.”

Source

Friday, October 30, 2009

The End is Near - Obama and the HIV Travel Ban

UPDATE - The ban has been lifted!!!

President Obama announced today that his administration is lifting travel restrictions into the country for those with HIV/AIDS.

"If we want to be a global leader on HIV/AIDS, we have to act like it," he declared, before signing a bill extending the HIV/AIDS treatment act named for Ryan White, who was diagnosed with AIDS at 13 and died in 1984. The bill provides medical care, medication, and support services to about 500,000, mostly poor, people.

The travel ban, imposed 22 years ago, will be lifted in January, according to a final regulation that will be published Monday, Obama said.

Read the rest.


via Advocate, by Kerry Eleveld

President Barack Obama is expected Friday to announce an end to the HIV Travel and Immigration Ban during a signing ceremony for the Ryan White HIV/AIDS Treatment Extension Act scheduled for 11:50 a.m., according to a source at an agency that works closely with the Administration.

"My understanding was that this would be announced the same day as the Ryan White Act was signed into law," said the source, who spoke to The Advocate on the condition of anonymity. "The White House wanted to be out in front on this."

Read the rest.

Read the official rule.



Friday, June 26, 2009

HIV travel ban to be lifted?


via Advocate.com, by Kerry Eleveld

The first step to ending the HIV travel ban in the United States has been taken by the Obama administration. The Office of Management and Budget posted a notice on its site Friday afternoon indicating that the department of Health and Human Services could move forward with steps to change a regulation that has restricted HIV-positive people from gaining entrance into the United States.

Read the rest.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Sex and the sojourner - Tony Valenzuela reflects on the erotic joys of travel


In the summer of 1987, right around my 19th birthday, I discovered the bathhouse. At Club San Diego I met a deeply bronzed Swiss tourist named Rene, who was 10 years and a lifetime of experience older. Rene invited
me on a weekend trip to West Hollywood. We stayed at the Coral Sands motel and friendly men kept their doors open. Then we were off to Palm Springs, to clothing-optional bungalows where our rented car got stuck in the sand and roaming around naked seemed both unremarkable and exciting...

...It comes down to this: the unfamiliar can be erotic. Being anonymous in a foreign milieu is a role we've cultivated for centuries, keeping our sexual desires clandestine from childhood onward. To witness male sexual or romantic intimacy in public is still rare (and dangerous) except for a very few neighborhoods scattered worldwide. Perhaps because gay men for so long have felt we don't quite fit in, the role of tourist suits us well. Sex under the radar of the everyday is not just possible but as many of us know, very hot...

Read Tony's entire piece at The Guide.

This is the first of a regular column on gay health that he will be writing for The Guide. And we must say, he is off to a fabulous beginning. And we're sure, many happy endings...





Thursday, January 8, 2009

Queer Spirit Journeys to the High Andes of Peru



As a group of gay men we found friendship, witnessed growth and renewed vision, and journeyed to incredible places within ourselves.



In February 2008 a call from Queer Spirit was sent out regarding a trip to the HIGH ANDES of Peru. Eleven gay men committed themselves to this journey. This trip included more than breathtaking sites and tourist activities of this ancient land, but was also an inner personal journey of self-discovery, personal edges and deep introspection: a vision quest.

Each man was motivated to embark this journey with the expectation of inner personal discovery. There were intentions, prayer, insight and inner reflection shared and reflected upon to prepare for this work. This trip was led and guided by a local shaman from the High Andes skilled in rituals and ceremonies. Those who have met Ruben know him to be a man of integrity, passion for his country and generous with his traditions.

As a part of the preparation each man participated in monthly Heart Circles in which we explored our lives and what it was that we were seeking from this trip. We created a small communal process of support, love, friendship, and brotherhood. As the journey approached we all felt the stirrings of something magical about to open to us. On October 6, 2008 we boarded the plane for Lima, Peru, where our journey began. We showed up in great anticipation, excitement, wonderment, and willingness to explore the unknown, both in regards to Peru and within ourselves. What would we find? Where would we explore? And most importantly, what would we bring home as part of this journey?

Read the rest.

Check out the Peruvian Vision Quest for Gay Men - scheduled for October 15 - 27, 2009.

Friday, December 7, 2007

Buenos Aires in the pink as gays fly in to holiday


via theage.com (australia)

[LifeLube vouches for everything in this article, including the glowing report on the new "heterosexual-friendly" Axel Hotel, which was just down the street from our apartment in the funky neighborhood of San Telmo. We stopped by a number of times to enjoy...]

Home to the sexy tango and strapping steak eaters, this South American capital has long been thought of as a bastion of macho attitudes. But a new hotel here is adding to the city's growing image as a bastion of gay friendliness.

The Axel Hotel, a Spanish import that opened last month, has come to symbolise Buenos Aires' increasingly aggressive effort to court gay dollars and euros. It is Latin America's first luxury hotel built exclusively with gay customers in mind.

That Buenos Aires would be chosen for such a marketing experiment is a result of a marked change in recent years in the acceptance of gay men and lesbians in Argentine society.

The city of 3 million has come a long way from the years of military dictatorship, when being openly gay could lead to jail. Five years ago this was the first major Latin American city to legalise same-sex unions, and this summer it was host to a World Cup for gay soccer players.

"There is so much more freedom these days," said Mauricio Urbides, a 28-year-old fashion designer, sipping wine with two male friends at the hotel. "You see gays on television here, in government. Just 15 years ago it was a completely different situation."

The three friends were among a mixed crowd of homosexuals and heterosexuals who laughed as Kyra and Sharon, drag queens from Spain, poked fun at Argentina's President-elect, Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner, and sang a Marilyn Monroe-inspired Happy Birthday to a male guest.

Buenos Aires has no traditional gay neighbourhood of its own, but acceptance of gay people has grown slowly. The first gay bar opened in 1983 just as the military dictatorship was being toppled, then in 1992 President Carlos Menem signed a decree promising equal protection under the law for gays.

Read the rest.

Monday, July 9, 2007

dmdp.3 - mo Miami (Miami part two)



[david's

menu-driven planet]

the third in a series of semi-lucid
rants
by david,
only on LifeLube


<<< here
for miami part one



Picture it...
January, 1986...

a free moonlight cruise up and down the Intercoastal Waterway between Miami and Ft. Lauderdale; my buddy-- then attending UM Coral Gables (where he routinely showered with Vinnie Testaverde) and his YUCA Lawyer boyfriend had won it as part of a radio promotion. The boyfriend was falling for the "Skipper" (- an old white man of completely unattractive appearence, and I like Old White men) in an obvious, queer, amusing way. It was a magical evening- January, North American Continent, 76 degrees at midnite- remember, we're Illinois People-- with that dense thicket of a zillion hotel rooms and suites, glorious penthouses offered up to Sea and Sky. Almost made up for my Buddys' cramming me into the trunk of his (ostensibly rented for my visit) subcompact to drive his unraveling dealer to Lauderdale and back, or scoring me some shit to take back North- to which he reacted upon tasting-

"...IT BURNS..."!!!...and then proceeding to step on it repeatedly.

I laid in an adjacent bedroom, still closeted, whilst Buddy and boyfriend snorted and porked each other (I guess) . Very Pastel, very Reagan, very Jewish, Juban, Chinese, those days. Everybody walking around South Miami metrorail station froze-faced. I was abstaining then. Miami was already well- rehearsed as crime-addled, third world urban snakepit...a big part of it-- I thought-- was they refused to give up those crank- turned series of glass- slats and get real fucking doors.


The COCONUT GROVE ORGANIC FARMERS MARKET IS PARADISE. There's a rule with Farmers Markets and hot springs--- the more difficult the Journey, the Sweeter the Potential rewards. Taxis are plentiful and forthright but expensive, and we see the meter blasting skyward so early on this long trip as we head towards the Mainland Miami, my shower has already evaporated in the subtropical heat. I know enough about the "GAY GROVE" of Old to know that there IS NO "GAY GROVE" anymore and hasn't been in decades. Even South Beach has only 2 gay pubs left- TWIST has 5 bars in one, yes, but...TWIST was about to open the last time I was there with Larry..1991? We of course got an opening -night party invitation (had a pinwheel) and I remember our dejection at the thought that we had to return to a grey, cold, much less indolent Chicago.

In her definitive Miami true -crime book "THE CORPSE WORE A FAMILIAR FACE" Edna Buchanan described "THE GROVE" as a community of "Old trees and young people"...that's sort of reversed, what with gentrification and cyclonic defenestration but much of the Market Grounds are snug in the toes of old survivors. GLASER FARMS is much of the market- they grow locally, have their own lines of products from other countries, and have ready-made meals that smart Miamians on-the-go flock away with. The best stuff is in back- nutmilk booths, raw cacaos, fruit juice rainbows, discreetly and accurately seasoned plates of local vegan soul food. The peak comes with a ONE LOVE LIVE FOOD CANISTEL(EGGFRUIT) TART with SPROUTED ALMOND/ APRICOT CRUST and PULVERIZED CACAO DRIZZLE ($13). It's as close as you can get to eating a Miami sunset. It doesn't matter if you're seeing it from atop the onetime CENTRUST TOWER ( a rare rave for I.M. Peis firm-- is it a Truman Era refridgerator or a Brazillian reactors' cooling tower?) ) or from BAYSIDE MARKETPLACE (Miamis' Fishermans' wharf...just uncool, Man) : DUSK IN MIAMI IS PROOF THAT THERE IS A GOD.

The canistel grows from Mexico to Brazil and has an impossibly lush orange flesh that (to me at least) recalls mamey or papaya. Much of the stuff sold in these booths has backyard/ neighbor/ enthusiast/ hobbyist origins. LIke the best foods these are bittersweet- we are quickly back to 2007 via the newspaper and a recently completed $250 million hwy that has choked the natural rhythm of the ocean and is causing blooms of deadly red tide. So great the need must be to facilitatate another 10, 000 rich white guys and their manatee- ramming boats, Naples gated communities.


Here we are, 2007... We additionaly manage to biovac in the VERY HEART of South Beach, a DAMRON selection with the "Gay" scratched off their proferred card on arrival. The young black man at the desk is friendly and has a great smile however, so we don't take offense when he has no card of his own. We are across the Street from MTV -- about to move half its' Latin American operations to Buenos Aires. When we arrive at that same City (for Argentina is super-annuated Florida) it is announced that Frances Ford Coppola and Daughter had bought a hotel in the fashionable Palermo area...so that tells you where Miami-- expensive, hassly Miami-- just like L.A.- again, -is going. Conversely, any action that goes to South America South Florida gets a piece of-a vast amount of Capital right there.


We see some of that Capital on the bus ride (RIDES, plural, for me) between Miami Beaches north and south. Original Modern estates, baby bauhaus -on -the -sands, splendid revivals here and again, landscaped to the 9s, canopys cautiously resurgent, with a rare giant inching towards oldgrowth between big blows. Miami is a city of proud ancient wrex, like Carlos Zapatas' "Everglades Post-Industrial", or "Mosquito Chic" house on a nearby' beach, or his nascent Soldier Field corroding in the middle of a thronged pedestrian thoroghfare, a consumer cafe causeway. We are going to the north beach Sister establishment to the "scratched-out gay" SoBe hostelry.

Our room is expensive, EVEN LESS beach- adjacent than I'd thought, in more of a buzzered complex than hotel; housing pressure is high in MIAMI, the '6th BOROUGH' with added onus of being subtropical. Obviously a lot of less-wealthy people have been forced to North Miami Beach from other areas, yes, So Be comes to mind. There is no shortage of thug live among the immensely modest stoops, diverse and pleasant peoples. Kiss a lot of that bye-bye- the whole block across the street is about to fall to, has mammoth signs for- glowing luxury townhomes, multistory jobbers with humanoid forms perched on top. On top, very important. Not in but ON. Our building is vintage as promised and we do the universal pizza or chinese delivery, crack open some of our COCONUT GROVE ORGANIC FARMERS MARKET papayas, watch tv on a bed that's as voluminous as any we've encountered- and correspondingly saggy- middled. We wait for the bus to not- too- too- far HAULOVER BEACH for a while but it doesn't come as scheduled...then doesn't come at all...and we give up for the night.


HAULOVER BEACH IS PARADISE. A legal nude beach in North Miami. I go solo, meet a man named Don who is big on flicking himself (!) --from DuPont Circle D.C. We chat after he strikes up a conversation about how briefly I am in the water- and before and after I dip I'll be the one wearing hooded sweatshirts in the subtropics- I don't like skin cancer nor glomming the ocean with suntan oils. It is only early March but with the surging sunlight, blue sky and warm waters I'm in the Caribbean. That Miami Magic again. The water in San Francisco sports a litany of reasons not to swim. Here it's just the 300 mile long-ball of worms (more distastefull than dangerous) which lives on Florida Sewage and feeds the Stone Crabs (a renewable fishery, BTW). On our return leg home we have a 5 hour MIA layover and I come within a hair of cabbing us back to HAULOVER for a welcome -back- to- America bask but the cost of the sortie climbs past $100 and I deciede against, just as well - a brief but ruinous tropical cloudburst commences out of thin Equatorial air.


Tuesday, July 3, 2007

dmdp.2 - Lady Miami Magnificent and Morose (Miami part one)

[david's
menu-driven planet]

the second in a series of semi-lucid rants
by
david, only on LifeLube
Finding
Sacred South Beach
requires sifting
thru a lot of Shit
Versace is dead. Perhaps my closest brush with fame came in 1991; staying at, with, my newly- Exed Ex (quite a trick right there) at his condominium on Lenox. Back then it could take a queen an hour to walk two blocks, so pervasive was the street cruising. I emerged from the Sea, wearing nothing but a pair of white painter shorts. Gianni Versace lived and died at the News Cafe, and as I approached he was at his table looking down at the Street and the Drive and the Beach and the Ocean. His eyes lit up with the look of Love (slight chance also that it was cocaine, or a combination of the two) as he saw me. I entered and perused the extensive magazine selection, all the time he and I stealing glances of each other. I know- hard to believe in 2007 that you could enter a commerical establishment without a shirt.

As I said, I was down there with a newly exed- and not happy about it- Ex AND I was newly, seriously enamored with someone else as well. The Man situation was already complicated enough without adding another, no matter HOW famous and rich. And in those days I wouldn't even consider sex - any kind- with an HIV positive person. I would have been floored to discover Versace was HIV negative. Just common sense. As much as I could tell from a couple looks into his eyes, Gianni Versace was a decent man.

So here it is, South Beach 2007. Caricatures run rampant- the fake I.D. crowd - BREEDER TEEN URBAN POOR BEACH BAR PARTY- run to make reservations NOW- blasting their music while cruising or crawling down Ocean Drive; fagaphobic Amer- Cuban kids, visible 'Ho and Pimp combos (like the less-Desirous aspects of Las Vegas, more on that later), a gay circuit beach party replete with bull-horn blasting protesters (tho the cops show up and make them spew unamplified Hate only)...almost full circle from my first visit here, maybe 1986; I'd never seen an abandoned City before and just my Buddy PULLING OVER- not even putting the car in park- caused me to become very disturbed indeed. We walked to the ocean, me just about walking backwards as I was sure somebody was going to come between us and the safety of the car. There was already the pastel orange- aptly named -SOUTH POINTE TOWER up-- my Buddys' YUCA lover had the brochure in their Coral Gables apt. - so the writing even then was very much on the wall. Miami Beach needs to be re-, no THREE-Gentrified but seeing as how every last single HOMO in South Florida has moved to LAUDERDALE, that ain't going to happen.

Our First night finds us in a Jordan Mozer- rehabbed hotel-er, bedsit. Small. Expensive. Centrally located. Then it's the MARLIN HOTEL, former home/studio of Island Records founder Chris Blackwell. Back in '93 I used the toilet here on a quick cab sortie from MIA, on brief layover between the Cayman Islands and O'hare....like I said, (toilet) brushes with fame. Also noted that last flash visit was the disheveled sands, courtesy of hurricane Andrew the previous year. We are happy to have this suite at the MARLIN- our trip is almost in the "last minute" catergory- and the present owner/operator is salacious and sails the ship smoothly during our stay- however there is a strong smell of vomit in the suite, right inside the bedroom door. As much as the roaming bar party that South Beach has become (Marlin ground floor included) I blame for this the immense disease incubators called CRUISE SHIPS- zillions of them, magnificent to look at as they round the tip of SoBe in the Government Cut. THe new downtown Miami performing arts center isn't named after CARNAVAL for nothing. Our ANCHORAGE AK. relatives say when Summer comes and the ships return everybody is frequently sick, as they contact the passengers at their jobs and bring pathogens home. SICK SCHMICK- SoBe has its' priorities straight- pop a bottle or can into any reputable lodgings' fridge and 2 minutes later it's not merely FROZEN- it is CRYOGENIC.

I talk with a black woman in a cafe about how there are no jobs anymore. I drink cuban coffee, which makes me psychotic. We got to JOES STONE CRAB several times even though my Partner doesn't eat crab. Sort of like Miami Beachs' BERGHOFF (R.I.P.) and lying in what was once known as SoFi (South of Fifth; does anybody remember the club JUNKYARD?). If nothing else it is venerable, capacious enought to make reservations an afterthought, and has rank after rank of servers that give a taste of how 'It Used To Be". The Food in South Beach is awful (another shared trait with Las Vegas); we get thru a meal (nice silver) at PACIFIC TIME, on a busy pedestrian thoroughfare. It too smells of puke. In back I find an article framed on the wall from a magazine that declares PACIFIC TIME one of it's "Best New Restaurants"...for 1994...I want to cry. Doing some research yields an eatery tip, and despite the fact that it's named after a person (always a bad sign- cult of personality and ego, ya know) and we go check it out. It's in what looks like a drop-dead gorgeous renovation of a historic hotel...from a distance. The lobby reveals all sorts of expensive woods and tarting up...this in a building, a district- originally constructed for the middle and (cough cough) working class Fantasy-ers. All these charming sows' ears down here that the Clueless - Madonna and the surviving, HETERO half of Studio 54 come to mind- destroy in their quest for a silk purse. It's a wonder we don't walk out of this place with the subversive sleekness, young Cuban bartender that blasts us with a nanosecond of pure resentment for distracting him from the TV, and desserts so sugary that they're almost inedible. I found this place mentioned in one of the glossy food magazines yesterday; the article was expounding on why the wine scenes in Las Vegas and Miami suck so bad (they don't care about building a clientele or repeat customers, evidently) and this place is specific was sited for marking up some of their wines 5 times wholesale- which the author says should be criminal.

Architect Michael Graves is wasted on South Beach, his condo building unfortunately similar in size to it's neighbors and probably forced to tone down by a local "design review board" as well. If Las Vegas and South Miami Beach have the worst food of any US Tourist meccas, Metropolitan Miami has the most all-abundant awful modern architecture. Witness how, over a decade ago, a design for twin condo towers from Chicagos' very own Helmut Jahn was rejected for being too "radical"- a rare occasion when perversity would have been appropriate, like smoking MARINOL pills, but ended up being-- like Irony in Miamis' overgrown, omnipotent and Evil Cousin Los Angeles- useless. The Should-be-fantabulous BASS MUSEUM is undone by its' small size and evisceration (again) of a historic library. In all fairness to architect ARATA ISOZAKI, there's a model here of what he WANTED to build, funds permitting. And South Beach can be solemn - the lustrous little clip of coral rock that constitutes the BASS is mere steps from the Ocean- how may treasures would YOU want to heft when invariably you flee, Florida being as perfectly mated to Atlantic Hurricanes as Mexico is to funnelling narcotics to the United States? The whole point maybe moot as Miami in general- South Beach in specific- are about a holy trinity of Beach, Body, and Party; if you want art, go to Buffalo.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

dmdp1.1 - a salute to Chile


[david's
menu-driven
planet]

the first in a series by david
only on LifeLube

...SO after ANOTHER bus ride over the Andes (from Bariloche, Argentinathis time) we arrive in Puerto Montt, Chile. This is a combination terrestrial truck nexus and port for those
plunging into Patagonia to the South. We half- commandeer, half-hijack a taxi driving by the Bus Station in an outer lane- the Driver freezes up, feigns ignorance-another Driver intercedes, points us (in retrospect) towards our destination- Hotel Gran Pacifico- looming above us on the Hill. We roll our cases thru the sidestreets, instinctively seeking high ground. We schlep up a vast staircase- me carrying Toms' bag, as hewill soon be 68- and are at the Hotel, which up to this point has displayed no sign. It is recommended in the Guidebook as a place for those tired of being in hostels and want a clean, private room with optional full business services. I hit the shower and we head upstairsto Dinner; Congrio (eel) fillet with oysters, spinach and rice. The oysters have their "coral" (roe) attached, as is the norm any where outside "cleanliness"- obssessed Estados Unidos. The portion is perfect sized for me, tired and hungry but not famished in a Chile which treatsalmost every meal not just as an excuse to show off the fruits of thesea but to show that they are working double time to strip-mine it aswell. Chile is about the Fish. I fear at times that the Hotel Gran Pacifico is another "Love Hotel", albeit a clean, modern, amenity-laden one. I worry, if this is so, that Tom and I will get ejected for bickering. The elevators ply- glass-walled shafts, the penthouse restaurant- where we eat more thanI'd like to admit- has tremendous views and the simple jugos framboise featured (sin zucar) in the breakfast buffet is easily one of the tastiest and most restorative things I injest on the entire trip. We cab out to Angelmo market, a waterfront expanse of restaurants and shops. A gentleman sides up to us and instigates a conversation."...Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you..." He assures us, and a tour ages and degree of bumpin' around we'd been doing, we needed to hear this. He is short, built like a firetruck, lives in upscale Vina Del Mar, involved with Planes (lots o' Chileans have Pilots' Licenses)and the red hair typical of German/Chilean mixes. We select an eatery and sit down; there is salmon of some sort on the house- Chileans are, alas, crazed for Salmon that is farmed, not very tasty or healthy (though Swiss organic certifiers IMO have certified fish farms that wedo not visit). Our new friend orders "LOCOS", which are abalone. All but extinct in the North American wild, he receives a plate with at least a dozen of the dense little plugs of ocean protein...covered in what looks like bright orange aerosol cheese. Remember, this guy couldbe a linebacker- and he can not even finish off half of the mollusks, looks somewhat distressed at the Waste of it all. We safely order HAKE-MERZLUNA- a mild white fish that is ubiquitous in Chile. It is decently cooked and of course appallingly fresh. We thank the guy and bid him adieu, walk the short distance back to the Hotel Gran Pacifico. Across from the bus station (now unrecognizeable from the night and our Entry to the City) between the Angelmo Market and Hotel is MELLIPULLI Artists' Village. The sign saying "organic coffee" is misleading because the Cafe serving it is run by an Italian, an artisan explains, and he is too moody to be open. I talk to the kindred folk there- some of the booths have collections of what many would call"junk" but in the context and the displays sometimes appropriate genius. I follow a clue here and there and manage to score some grass-perhaps the dreaded "Paraguayan" (what a world!). Squirreling it back to the hotel makes me happy- it at least has enough oil to stain the paper and, say what you will, wasn't grown under any fucking lamps. Tom has stumbled across local ecological Chilean wine- a lovely-labelled CHISIYAM- from the mall across the Street. The Malbec we toss as it is corked, but the Cabernet Saugvignon is the Real Deal. I give thanks to be in such an exotic place, warm, secure, with the One I love, enjoyingthe Local agricultural products. I pass on dinner because the penthouse restaurant is packed (Puerto Montt is a tiny City) and the reefer and wine are local and real but not polished (read: ROUGH) and my system is feeling it. Tom of courseblames it on the grass so I am on my own for dinner. PORTO MONTT is a perfect PORT City. I return to the restaurant-again, chosen from the guidebook- that we shared an unmemorable lunchin. It is night now- historical buildings appear so fragile that a breeze might move them into the Pacific. Dogs shadow me appraisingly, copulate- and lock up- on the sidewalks in front of Malls that have subsumed even a town so remote and tiny as Porto Montt. The moon-"KUYEN" to the MAPUCHE people who 1st inhabited this Land- watchesover all. It is late and all but deserted. My server is a sweet, good looking, Exotic- eyed young woman who has a case of wander-lust if for no other reason than waiting on so many travelers. There on the TV is a Latin-America Diva who I should probably recognize- what with that stupendous stage set-up, those not-occurring -in- nature bosoms...but she is singing in Spanish. The late dinner here is as unmemorable as lunch but ends with a top-notch cake of many precise layers...again,the German influence.
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