This is the second leg of a truly fun week. There are adventures to get each morning when we land somewhere else, but also fun time on the boat itself.
The Club Med 2 has an open bar. Yes, that means free flow of pretty good things...all day long. So being on a French boat, you have Ricard for aperitif at lunch time if you are on the boat at lunch time...and pina colada by the pool before sunset, and obviously wine during meals. We are in the North Hemisphere end of November, so sunsets are early at around 5.30pm each day...with some pretty cool views from the swimming pool bar on the back deck. By 6pm, it's champagne time...all night long. Well, first it's shower time and getting change for the evening obviously...this is still a French place! And as we all now that mixing different alcohol drinks is not a great idea, I found a fun group of people ready to go on the champagne all night long, each evening, for great and fun time! More in the next entries of this truly fun group of people.
Little warning, Club Med 2
Club Med 2Club Med 2
Club Med 2
is French, and it feels. Out
Jaap’s tyre was not only down to the canvas, but through a couple of layers. As a result the 120km ride to Springbok was a rather tentative one. We did however arrive safely around lunchtime, and were hopeful of being able to track down a tyre for Jaap. However it was a Sunday and the day of Nelson Mandela’s funeral, and the tyre outfit was of course closed. Miraculously we met someone who knew the owner and called him for us, but less miraculously he did not hold the tyre size we needed. We spent that afternoon and the Monday phoning around trying to find some way to get a tyre to Springbok urgently. I was running out of time before my flight to NZ, and was keen to explore the back roads on the way to Cape Town, rather than having to rush down. Unfortunately locating a tyre proved difficult, and it looked as if Jaap would get his tyre on Wednesday at the earliest. As Jaap was staying longer than me in South Africa and would have time to explore after Christmas, I decided to head off for an explore with him catching up so we could hit Cape
Terminal tyreTerminal tyre
Rome’s rapidly growing trend, “lo street food”, seems unstoppable. I’m not talking about food trucks, which really really don’t work or exist here the way the do in other cities, nor the ubiquitous pizza by the slice joints. I’m referring to a different approach to marketing food in which takeaways, cafes and restaurants peddle (relatively) inexpensive, portable snacks.
Of course, Rome has a long history of pizza by the slice, panini, supplì and other small bites that might be collectively called cibo da strada. But “lo street food” is something else–a new impulse in food production and distribution. Even its English moniker sets it apart from Rome’s established, indigenous models.
While the city’s street food movement is in full swing, even its pioneer is getting in on the action. Stefano Callegari invented the trapizzino at his pizza by the slice joint, 00100, in 2008. 00100 shuttered this past winter and reopened and rebranded under the name Trapizzino, referring to its main offering.
The name trapizzino is a play on words, combining tramezzino (a triangular sandw
Cesare and Alfredo Bergamini have been fishing for eels in the Tiber since 1947. Now 74 and 77, respectively, the brothers learned the profession from their grandfather. In post-war Rome, they shared the water with other eel fishermen–and a great deal more eels. But falling eel stock caused by pollution coupled with spiraling profitability due to collapsed demand has driven others away from the trade.
On a recent visit to the Bergamini brothers’ dock in Mezzocamino in southwestern Rome, Cesare recounted his daily routine while repairing his handmade nets. He goes out in his dinghy (water conditions permitting) at 7:00 each morning to check his eel traps, around 300 hand-crafted funnel-like nets. He said the quantity of eels they catch depends on the river level. Last week, the Tiber had risen more than 4 meters due to heavy rains, which meant Cesare couldn’t lay his nets and it was impossible to catch anything.
Decades ago, his haul on a good day would have been several hundred kilos, while today the catch is severely diminished. Cesare explained that the eels he catches are healthy and ada
mainland Europe and North America, Iceland has always taken it's own unique path. Icelandic architecture and fashion is a reflection of it's unusual geography, the Icelandic palette is most comfortable when quality local ingredients are cured, cultured, fermented, or pickled, and the Icelandic people revel in self sufficiency and environmental sustainability. Iceland has always been deeply rooted in nordic liberal sensibilities, but unlike any other nation, they refused to bail out their banks after the 2008 recession, in 2009 they elected the world's first openly gay female prime minister and in 2010, Reykjavik elected John Gnarr, punk rock singer, comedian, and self proclaimed anarchist as their mayor. The physical landscape is as striking and unique as the culture itself; an island covered in black volcanic rock, lush green fields, geothermal vents and dramatic volcanoes. It was with this in mind, that Dennie, Henry and I boarded a plane for Reykjavik over Easter holidays, where we would spend 9 days swimming in hot pools, driving through fjords, and eating delicious Skyr (Icelandic yogurt).
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