This week my adopted town, Annapolis, Maryland, got a little taste of Greece. It seems the local Greek Orthodox Church threw its annual Greek Festival. I happened to find out about it on Friday, and word was that it draws folks clear from out of state. That sounded like a pretty good recommendation, so Saturday I bopped over to check the place out.

I arrived an hour before the event was due to start. This got me an excellent parking spot, but at this early hour there was nothing to see. All the displays were covered, and food people were bustling about getting ready, but the food was nowhere in sight. I hate to sit idle, so I swiped a spare garbage bag attached to a trash can and canvassed the area picking up litter. People assumed I was supposed to be there, and gave directions where not to miss, and held out things for me to dispose of. I managed to cover the entire grounds and collect maybe two pounds of things like condiment wrappers and other small stuff. Performing several hundred deep knee bends was pretty good exercise, too.

People began to fill the grounds, and I briefly debated whether to just stay on the grounds or go outside and enter like the rest of the public, and pay whatever the entrance fee was. I’m a good boy, so I went to the entrance. It turned out there was no charge, but at least I had a clean conscience. I also got an unexpected treat. Right at the entrance, creating a nice Greek atmosphere, was a young man playing a traditional if slightly Americanized, stringed instrument. He was good, too! Didn’t look like he was out of high school, but the playing was flawless and interesting. Actually, the instrument was entirely traditional. The electronics provided traditional percussion accompaniment. If he reads this, I hope he submits a comment and introduces himself.

I forgot to ask what the instrument is called

Greeks must like jewelry (my wife says they do), because all but three of the vendors sold at least some jewelry, apparently all handmade in Greece. And they were always busy. I had many hundreds of pieces to choose from. The dining tent had a dance floor set up. Greece is old enough to have traditional dances that are rather more sophisticated then the Watusi, and people learn the dances young.

It's pretty hard to capture the motions of a dance in a still photo

So what good is a festival without food? The dishware was ordinary fast-food-restaurant foam boxes, but the menu was definitely Greek. The only item not described in English was kalamari, which I happen to know is squid. I saw several plates of it being eagerly devoured. It looks like smallish onion rings. Here is my gyro sandwich, salad, and Greek coffee, twelve bucks.

I walked away full

When I left, the parking lot was jammed and the shuttle bus was full of new arrivals. My wife liked her necklace.

As it happens, I own this blog and the url; I never transferred it to them so I could keep control, partly in case something like this would happen. So it happened, and now I have a nice travel blog. Which, I admit, has been rather fun to write, and maybe I’ll keep posting for the fun of it. Apparently a lot of folks find this site because they’re doing travel-related research. I doubt too many are coming here (any more) to check out Serenity Travel.

The system is set to notify me when someone comments, so drop me a note if you’d like to see something on a particular place.

First, food! I found a large selection of restaurants in town, and I’ve eaten at several, but I really have to tell you first about the diner where I ate my first meal in town (and I’ve been there several times since).

Diners are about as American as you can get, if you exclude those beastly fast food places. After all, this blog is about real places—and real food.

So anyway, I’m cruising along down the main drag, West Street, and I’m nearly blinded by the reflection off the stainless steel exterior of the Double-T Diner.  It was surrounded by a parking lot full of cars. I had to try the place.

Here's the front, so you'll know what it looks like when you drive by

This photo doesn't do it justice

One of the items was called baklavah cheesecake. Baklavah, if you don’t know, is a honey-dripping, walnut-laden, flaky, rich Greek pastry. You know what cheesecake is. I can’t tell you what baklavah cheesecake is like because I didn’t try it. I didn’t dare.

My waitress was properly sassy, the coffee wasn’t bad (and it was constantly refilled, just like in Minnesota), and my hamburger was done the way I asked: so with a good vet it would recover, and it was big.

I waddled out a happy newcomer to Annapolis.

My family's cruise was better than this...

My thanks to Tony Carrillo, writer of F Minus, which I recommend.

You know how people are fascinated with the macabre. Horror movies are popular, we all wish the obituaries told what the person died of, and we slow down to look at traffic accidents. We like to see the grim and gruesome.

A lot of places to visit are not rich countries, and tourist dollars are an important part of their economies. Some of these places also experience natural disasters, sometimes on a large scale. Indonesia, for example is an island nation (tsunamis) on the Pacific ring of fire (volcanoes).

A river swamped by volcanic ash, called lahar. Kind of interesting, isn't it?

A big volcanic ash cloud can cut off air transportation, and with it, tourist dollars. Some enterprising tourist agencies are promoting the idea of disaster tourism. Instead of avoiding the area, come see the collapsed villages, the refugee camps, the devastated forests. I know Indonesia and Haiti have these opportunities, maybe other places, too. You can visit, and you don’t have to get dirty or do volunteer work. Bringing your tourist dollars is all the help they’re asking for. That should give some grim satisfaction.

You might think I’m being ironic, but this is for real. Here’s a link:

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=indonesia-turn

Something to think about, eh?

Vietnam. Maybe you’re a vet and would like to go back and check the place out again. Go ahead. Just remember that the prevailing philosophy of the communist countries in that part of the world is to Fleece the Rich American. You’re best off in a group, and it’s not as cheap as, say, Indonesia. Vietnam is working on improving its tourist image and skills, and they’ve come a long way, but they have a long way to go.

Cambodia. Improving, but still too poor to offer much. The cities are, crowded and uncomfortable, and if you get out in the countryside, watch out for land mines. They have done a lot of work on their roads, and I recommend you stay on them. The country was hurt pretty badly in the Vietnam war era, and they are still recovering.

They do have Angkor Wat, which is spectacular enough to justify a trip. Be careful of the surrounding area, though. Mostly slipshod development.

One of the most spectacular human-built structures in the world.

Philippines. Unless you’re going back to visit relatives, you will find lots better places to visit. About every human-occupied place is full of trash—they don’t clean up very well. The government and lack of “peacefulness” in the culture aren’t super good for tourists. Beware of the food and water. Not much gourmet food here. Not much in the line of historical buildings, either.  Here’s the first word in a text box on their official tourism site: “Pursuant…” Friendly, eh?

Underwater adventures are okay, though. The hill country in the northern part of Luzon with all those rice terraces isn’t bad. If you like to sail among islands, you’ll find more than 7000 of them to sail around. Not all the natives are friendly, though. One good thing about the populated areas: the educated folks pretty much all speak good English. I get a lot of customer service agents with Philippine accents. They’re easier for me to understand than the folks from India.

Burma. Oops, Myanmar. Forget the shave. Oppressive, unfriendly government. Poverty. Go someplace else.

Enough gloom and doom. Nice places next time.

http://www.tinyurbankitchen.com/2010/10/pizza-tour-of-my-travels.html

Cute article by someone deeply into travel. Describes making pizzas to match flags of the countries she’s visited.

The flag maker is a Taiwanese lady. Be sure to follow the link.

http://www.go-panamerican.com/road-tips.php#honduras

And we Americans wouldn’t have to go overseas to take this trip…

Malaysia is the most westernized country in this part of the world. Good if you’re timid about visiting really strange places.Not all of it is fancy hotels and museums, or large metropolitan areas, though you can certainly find all of that. This street is in Melaka, a city that goes back to the early 1400′s.

I've seen a lot of streets that look pretty much like this

Lest I disappoint you, with that blue-collar-looking neighborhood, Malaysia has lots of modern, high-tech exotic locales, too. Everybody has seen the Petronas Twin Towers in the capital. Here’s another area, called the sustainable towers. To me, all cities are inherently unsustainable, but there you have it.

Sustainable residential design. See the trees inside?

The toilets are western style and you can drink the water. Transportation is comfortable. Lots of people speak Engrish. Prices are higher.

Get out of town and prices are still a lot cheaper than what you’ll find in the US, but more than elsewhere in this part of the world.

The interior jungle is still pretty good, though it’s disappearing (they’re chopping down the jungle and building sustainable towers. Go figure.), and the beaches and islands are beautiful. Find the right island and you and your spouse can enjoy a nice place with meals and snorkeling gear for maybe $25 a day. If I want a big town, though, I’ll go visit NYC.

But let’s consider actual sleeping accommodations. In Bali, part of Indonesia. For one night. What do you pay, and what do you get?

$1–$4 gets you a basic room with a shared bath (down the hall) out in the country, not in town. This type of place is called a guesthouse. (ahem) Your Serenity agent will fix you up with something higher class, but if you’re out vagabonding, this is where it’s at. These are not part of any chain as far as I know, and you pretty much have to ask around to find one.

$5–$10 gets you a shower of your own, and in the right areas gets you a big room with a private bath, veranda, surrounded by tropical gardens. The upper end of this range includes a king-size bed, maid service and breakfast.

This look worth $10 a night to you?

$15 in some areas gets you air conditioning and a pool.

$20 or less on Samosir Island gets you a two-room suite

Off season, $50–75 in most of the country gets you a place that would rate four stars.

Let’s head into Jakarta. You can spend $250 at a lavish resort. And they go way up from there in the right areas. If you’re determined to spend a grand per night, you can do it.

Now let’s talk about food. Typical Indonesian food is one of a million variations on noodle or rice soup. Spiciness varies a lot, too. You won’t get bored. Indonesia, by the way, is where chickens came from, and you can see them running around, and you can get them in your soup. They’re leaner than the relaxed, plump ladies I keep in my back yard, but they’re better off than the poor creatures in a chicken factory. But I digress.

$0.40 gets you a cheap meal from a street vendor. Eat where you can see the food being prepared, and from places that look clean. Spend a buck in a restaurant. Some places serve family style. The tab will come to a few bucks. Tourist traps cost you maybe $15 unless you go to some world-famous place. Seafood is the best meat to eat, and don’t drink the water! The coffee is okay, though. Actually, the coffee is outstanding.

This guy found an uncrowded spot to pose for his picture

You get the idea. The cheaper the more adventuresome. The more expensive, the more like home. And why would you go to Indonesia to experience what you can get at home?