Chase A. Wolf's

     By Chase A. Wolf

     Chase’s Log 5.5.2010.  For readers of Adventures from Somewhere – it’s now listed on Travel China Guide - and excellent online guide to all things China-travel related.  Adventures From Somewhere is listed on the following page under the “World Travel Guide” section at http://www.travelchinaguide.com/directory/.

     More of my recent travels to be published shortly, starting with three days in the fabled city of Chicago, where by faithful guides showed me the Windy City’s high and low cuisine – who can say no to perfectly grilled Wagyu Beef complimented by a Premier Cru Bordeaux, and  a kraut-smothered Chicago-style Polish Sausage drowned with local beer?  Though I advise not consuming both on the same day. . . . 

     Good reading and good travels.

     By Chase A. Wolf

Lisbon - View from the Torre del Belem

     Chase’s Log  3.28.2010.  Well, this is it, two months and fifteen countries later – Japan, South Korea, Mainland China, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Thailand, Singapore, Maldives, India, Turkey, Greece, Italy, Spain and Portugal – I’m heading home.  I’ve seen and done a lot; eaten amazing food and met wonderful people – my brain and body a little worse for the wear and tear, but the journey – to promote my new venture Global Shopping Adventures – has exceeded my most optimistic expectations. 

     The Gods of Travel, having played much mischief on me these past two months, were conspicuously absent – not even a last minute good-bye travel wedgie.  They know I’ll soon be on the road again – plenty of opportunity to bedevil me along the way later.

Rome - The Trevi Fountain

     At Lisbon, American Airlines upgraded me to First Class, and I changed into my long trip clothes – sweat pants and shirt – and settled into my comfy seat.  My neighbor, Mary, was delightful and also in the real estate business, so we had lovely chats abut many things and the time passed quickly.  Even the in-flight meals were most edible and it was nice to hear everyone speaking English around me.  That’s one of the things about travelling abroad for so long – you come to miss your native tongue.  Of course, the first thing as real traveler misses once they get home is the sound of foreign tongues, so there’s no pleasing the eternally restless. Read the rest of this entry »

     By Chase A. Wolf 

La Iglesia de Something I Don't Remember

     Chase’s Log 3.25.2010.  From sunny Rome to rainy Madrid, my brief flight – a mostly empty one – was uneventful.  Breezing through baggage, I grabbed a cab to the Intercontinental on the Paseo de la Castellana, and arrived without incident, where I received my normal room upgrade.  I only had one Global Shopping Adventures meeting that day and discovered that the next day was a national holiday – Father’s Day in Spain is celebrated on St. Joseph’s Day.  Who knew?

     After my Global Shopping Adventures meeting, I headed off to find a SIM card for my phone.  On my walk, I wandered through a multi-level shopping center and was amazed that around half of the stores were out of business and there were very few customers to be seen anywhere.  In fact, street level retail stores were empty in many places and there were many signs advertising space available and apartments for sale.  It seems the economic crisis is still alive and well in Madrid. 

Me at Posada de la Villa Restuarant

     I ventured into the Old City for dinner that evening at Posada de la Villa – the ever-reliable Intercontinental Hotel’s concierge’s suggestion – and, like Athens and Rome, Spaniards eat late – it didn’t even open until 9:00 p.m.  Luckily, there were many bars and small cafes throughout the old quarter, so I found one that was fairly full and had some wine and antipasto to quell the rumblings of my stomach.  At the Posada I had their specialty – the Quarter of Roast Lamb which was moist and succulent, and went down well with a couple glasses of red wine from the Rioja region of Spain.  Well-fed, I waddled back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep. Read the rest of this entry »

     By Chase A. Wolf

Trevi Fountain

     Chase’s Log 3.23.2010.   Rome:  The Eternal City – I know, that’s as cliché as calling Chicago The Windy City, or New York The Big Apple, or Paris That-Beautiful-But-Kinda-Smelly-Place.  But you know, The Eternal City is dead-on accurate when describing Rome.  Say what you want about other great European centers like London, Paris and Madrid, but they were nothing but backwater Roman outhouses when Rome was the center of the greatest civilization of the ancient world, and, along with ancient Greece, formed the cradle of Western Civilization.  (My apologies to all dead ancient Egyptians – you guys had a good run of it too.)

     The Gods of Travel gave me a pass on the short flight from Athens to Rome, probably planning something special for my arrival.  But at this point, after nearly two months of being on the road, not even the cab driver’s lack of English (or hygiene), or his uncertainty of the location of my hotel, or even the planned political demonstrations that’ll screw up traffic faze me anymore.

Spanish Steps

     Eventually, we made our way to the Ville de Roma, Intercontinental – atop the famous Spanish Steps.  As was my hotel in Athens, the Intercontinental is typically European, and for reasons unknown and unquestioned I’m upgraded to a very nice room with a queen bed.  There was even a balcony overlooking the city and the Spanish Steps, which was an added bonus.  Always reliable, the Intercontinental chain.

     Unfortunately, all my Global Shopping Adventures meetings have been cancelled.  Of course, the Italians were very apologetic and had many good reasons for cancelling.  I couldn’t be angry because they were so sincere and apologetic.  Plus, I like Italians a lot and suspect I was one in a past life – but more on that later.

     So, with no meetings and a couple days to kill, I decided to play tourist and check out a few places I hadn’t seen for awhile.  I took a little “walk about” and found myself at the famous Trevi Fountain.  Built over several decades in the mid-eighteenth century, it’s a masterpiece of Baroque architecture and sculpture and is widely regarded as the most beautiful fountain in the world. 

Street fiddler

     Its waters are renowned for their purity and restorative powers and originate in the Alban Hills east of Rome, where they’re transported to the Trevi by the Acqua Vergine aqueduct, built by Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, general, statesmen and best friend for life of Rome’s first emperor Octavian Augustus, in 19 B.C.  Maybe this is what they mean by The Eternal City – the plumbing still works after 2,000 years! Read the rest of this entry »

     By Chase A. Wolf    

Athens: Labors of Herakles at the Temple of Hephaestus

     Chase’s Log 3.20.2010.  Parting with my wonderful Ukrainian she-devil of a girlfriend, Nastia, at the Istanbul airport, I said a quick prayer to the Gods of Air Travel to not torment me as they have so many times in the past and boarded the plane for a short hop to Athens, Greece.  Apparently, their attention was elsewhere – no doubt bedeviling someone else – and the flight was actually quite nice.  A little snooze and I awoke as we began our descent to a breathtaking view of the ancient, low-rise sprawl known as Athens.      

Athens from the Acropolis

      I really like Greece, especially its people, who are delightful, friendly and helpful, and who exude a kind of joy of life not found in all the places I visit.  Everyone is especially helpful to a struggling traveler.  Even those who demonstrate in the streets or seem somehow less nonchalant than their countrymen, still radiate a certain warmth and charm.  Great people. 

     Greece, for those of you who don’t follow financial matters too closely, is in a bit of a financial pickle and some are predicting they’ll default on their national debt.  As a result, the Greek government – along with Portugal and Italy and Spain – has agreed to drastically cut back public expenditures.  Home Office, a keen student of history, claims these are just the initial tremors before the collapse of the silliness known as the “European Union” – as if countries who have been trying to invade and conquer each other for hundreds of years are suddenly going to join hands and sing Kum-By-Ya – especially when it comes time to start bailing each other out financially.  But then, Home Office is half-British and genetically predisposed to such views about all things Continental.     

King George Palace Hotel

      Why is the above important to me now?  Well, the taxi driver who picked me up at the airport told me it’s lucky I arrived today because tomorrow the airport would be closed due to a general strike by public employees.  He also suggested I confirm that things are back to normal – whatever that means in Greece – before I depart.  And, as he dropped me off at my hotel, The King George Palace, he said, “the square here is where the biggest demonstration will be” – and then I was enveloped in the smoke of  burning tires as he laid rubber, laughing heartily as he sped off.  Huh?  Demonstrations? Read the rest of this entry »

     By Chase A. Wolf       

Istanbul

     Chase’s Log 3.18.2010.  Istanbul – one of my favorite cities in the world – a place of barely-controlled chaos, Turkish style – which is a very different sort of thing from the barely-controlled chaos – Asian-style, of the cities I’ve visited over the past few months.  

     Home Office refuses to call the city Istanbul, chiding me to call it by its “correct” name – Constantinople.  Apparently, Home Office is still irritated at the Ottomans for sacking Constantinople in 1453 and ending 1,100 years of 

Istanbul from space

Byzantine rule, but mostly I think Home Office is just sentimental about the final collapse of the Roman Empire – I’ve heard it shuffling around cursing and muttering to itself about that fool of an emperor Constantine I for deserting Rome as the Roman Empire’s sole capitol and the lost glory of the Empire and the Republic.  I make a mental note to get Home Office checked for Alzheimer’s when I get back to the States.    

     My memory was accurate and the traffic from the airport was horrendous – though nothing like the flight in.  We crawled along for what seemed like hours to the Ceylan InterContinental Istanbul, which my sister Barb loves, and where my travails are eventually rewarded with an upgraded room with a sea view.  I make it back to the lobby just in time to meet my guest and have yet another excellent Global Shopping Adventures meeting.      

Nastia - My Ukrainian Bodyguard

     I forgo eating after the meeting, not because I’m fasting, but because my half-mad Ukrainian girlfriend – Nastia – is flying in tonight and I know we’re going to spend the evening eating oysters and drinking vodka.  Well, she’ll drink the vodka and we’ll both eat the oysters –she has a nearly insatiable appetite for both.  

     She’s a 98-pound, two-fisted Slavic tornado and I make a mental note to check for the location of the back door at every restaurant we visit.  I’ve seen Midnight Express and the last thing I want is to be traded for smokes in a Turkish prison, and, knowing her utter distain for all liquids not distilled from potatoes, I was suddenly gripped by a fearful vision of some Turkish barkeep serving her water instead of vodka, whereupon, moving with cobra-speed, she flies half over the bar, grabs him by the tie, and pulls his hapless face an inch from hers, snarling:  “No  #!@!  Wadka!”  Following which, I take up involuntary residence in a very dank and scary place.  Read the rest of this entry »

      By Chase A. Wolfe     

The original wing of the Taj Mahal Palace hotel (1904)

     Chase’s Log 3.14.2010.  As I was leaving my week-long R&R in the Maldives, I found a place that served beer near the Male airport – no easy feat, with teetotaling Muslims being in the majority there – and I spent a few final hours with my Singaporean shipmates from the Orion before we were to bid each other farewell, and I was to fly off into the darkness for Mumbai, India.  We talked about our recent swim with a teenage whale shark and how gentle and polite it was, allowing us to swim and eat plankton with it.  Nothing like those ill-mannered brutes – Bull Sharks – that someone’s always hauling up on their backyard dock in Florida where I live.

     We talked about the diving in the Maldives in general and what a great week it had been – trading remembrances large and small.  That’s the sweet sadness of travel – making friends, sharing adventures, and knowing all the time that you may – and probably won’t – see them again.  But then, I do have this blog, the Internet, email and Skype, so who knows?  Burton Holmes, eat your heart out.  But all things come to an end and I boarded my flight to Mumbai.    

Hindu God with Connections to the Travel Gods

     Home Office has been fretting about how my delicate, Western-style intestinal fortitude will hold up in India, and I’ve promised to make opulent offerings to every elephant-headed, six-armed deity I run across – hoping they can get a message to the Travel Gods of Intestinal Fortitude.  They’ve been quiet for a few weeks now, but it would be just like them to pay a little mischief with the Indian food – which I love – and send me hopping, skipping and sprinting the Bombay Two-Step for the nearest thunder closet.    

A Mumbai Laundry

     I arrived in Mumbai without incident, but during the drive from the airport I was saddened by the many hundreds of people sleeping on sidewalks.  Such poverty amid such richness of culture.  So many things we take for granted in the States - even simple clothes washing – has a different meaning here - it’s work.  I make a mental note to be more grateful for the little things about my country.        

Whip it!

     I arrived at the opulent, colonial-era Taj Mahal Palace & Tower Hotel – yes, the target of terrorists and, given the overwhelming display of police and soldiers, probably the safest place in India today – around 4:30 a.m.  I was given the choice of paying for a night’s rent or checking in after 9:00 am.  Frugal is my middle name, so I spent five hours snoozing in the lobby and business center before getting a very nice room later in the morning and crashing.  Read the rest of this entry »

     By Chase A. Wolf      

Singapore skyline

      Chase’s Log 02.28.10.  I LOVE Cathay Pacific airlines!  Apparently, the Gods of Air Travel  have lost interest in my humble self, and have moved on to torment some other luckless soul.  Maybe.  Hopefully.   

     En route to Singapore, I checked in at the Bangkok airport without a problem – no luggage or security issues – and was offered an upgrade to Business Class.  Why certainly, I replied.  A pass to the Business Class Lounge to hobnob with the swells?  Why not?   

Construction and cranes everywhere

      Cathay Pacific – in their great wisdom – appears to have a policy of filling their empty Business Class seats just before takeoff with loyal customers – like me!  Other, lesser airlines – and you know who you are – will leave the luxurious Business Class seats empty but continue stuffing the sweating proletariat into dank little sausage seats better known to most of us as “Economy Class” or “Coach.”  And what’s the point of that?  Okay, so they save a little on the Osetra caviar and fois gras – but how does that really compare to the loyalty of their customers?     

Singapore

      I settled into my wide, cushy seat, asked for a pillow and extra blanket, and pondered my good luck.  Of course, Home Office would just tell me to brace myself for the equal amount of bad luck ahead needed to balance out the universal equations of travel – but I decide to live in the moment and ignore Home Office’s chattering in the back of my head.        

From the Hippo tour

       Without even being aware of takeoff, I awoke with a start as a smiling flight attendant politely asked me to bring my seat up – we were already on final descent into Singapore.  I’d slept through the whole flight and missed my complimentary Swedish Message!  Damn – Home Office was right after all.       

     Debarking in Singapore, I was quizzed by an officious little immigration agent demanding to know my name, date and place of birth, reason for visiting Singapore, where I was staying, the last time I listened to Abba, my favorite Meg Ryan and Charles Bronson movies – weird – that sort of thing.  For a moment I thought of just giving my name, rank and serial number as a joke, but with my highly developed instinct for self-preservation, I suspected that my brand of humor wouldn’t be appreciated by people who work in a room festooned with big red signs saying things like: “Drug smuggling of any type is a death penalty offense,” and “Offenders will be violated” – or something like that.  So I smiled submissively and provided the required information without elaboration. Read the rest of this entry »

Me and a cub

     Chase’s Log 2.24.2010.  Day One – Sunday in Bangkok – the capital of Thailand.  A huge and very crowded city – and for some reason I’m getting a weird vibe here – not really sure why.  Maybe travel fatigue from being in six countries in the past month.  I try to shake it off.  I’ve been here before just as a tourist – it’s cleaner than many of the big U.S. cities – but strangely different than some of the cities I’ve been in lately.  Not sure where this vibe is coming from.        

A Bangkok Wat

     After some unpacking and a little computer time, I decide that dinner should be in China Town – like I haven’t eaten enough Chinese food lately.  But they’re still celebrating the Chinese New Year’s there.  When I ask for directions, the hotel’s concierge looked at me quizzically and a little startled.  Nonetheless, I bravely set out with map in hand and some idea of where I wanted to end up.    

Lighting incense for Buddha

     Indoors was far busier than outside.  After looking through the assortment of merchandise, I head back to the street and make my way to a few small Wats (temples) that I hadn’t seen on my last stay.  Some are open, others not – but I did run into a monk’s prayer session.  People made supplication by giving offerings of food, drink and other things in plastic bins.  I silently wondered if Buddha smoked and whether I could spare a pack of my American Spirits? Read the rest of this entry »