Gimme stitches

The day after tomorrow I'm getting surgery - and I'm scared shitless. The plan is to fix my torn labrum (shoulder) by an arthroscopic procedure. Even though it's a short and relatively simple procedure, it sucks big time - the recovery period is long (6 months at least) and by the time I will see the inside of a gym again (somewhere in May 2010) it's gonna be starting over from 0 again.

Anyone has any better ideas than my surgeon?

I don't like the idea of being cut open, or get a bunch of incisions for that matter, I don't like the idea of being left-handed for almost two months, nor do I like the idea of getting a syringe poked in my neck for the anesthetic. But the idea that I'm gonna be a wimpy little fatty with arms the size of toothpicks and a stomach that stands out further than my chest, is just the biggest fucking nightmare of my life.

How to ruin a perfectly fine place

Last July I travelled to Bulgaria, as a friend of mine was holidaymaking over there and I thought it would be fun to drop by. After sleeping off the hangover from the Gentse Feesten (see previous post) I continued on to Brussels and Paris and took a snail munchers flight (Air France, the bastards that took over our national pride, the KLM) from there to Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria.

The beautiful Bulgarian countryside

After arriving in Sofia, I took a train all the way across the country to Burgas in order to end up about 40 clicks south of there in the holiday resort called Sunny Beach. The fact that the place only had an English name should've been a sign on the wall, but after the travel ordeals from the days before I didn't quite put 1 and 1 together.

Did I mention it was beautiful?

Sunny Beach is an absolutely fucking horrible place. It's filled with cheap apartment complexes and resorts, aimed at the package holiday people from Holland, Britain, Scandinavia and, sadly, Russia. Now those people aren't usually the friendliest, civillized people but this was really something.

Delapitated Soviet-era industries are found throughout the countryside

Upon arrival, I went out with my friends to a place called "the Flying Dutchman". Uh oh. The place was filled with Dutch working-class proletariat aged 16-23 gulping down huge quantities of lager. The joint played only the worst of the worst of Dutch-language music and of course everybody sung along until their lungs bursted. Now I'm no clubber, or good at drinking for that matter. That being said, I quickly realised I had to get drunk and stay drunk in order to retain at least some appreciation of the place.

Sign in Sunny Beach, "be happy in Bulgaria". Sure, any other place in Bulgaria would do just fine.

How unlike the rest of Bulgaria.

The group of people I visited took a package holiday and were flown in by charter flight to Burgas airport. By taking the train across the country I got a view of the real Bulgaria that most people at Sunny Beach don't even know existed. The countryside is beautiful, with endless sunflower fields, mountains, sleepy villages and old fashioned sheperds who actually wove as the train passed by. Truly another century.

The sunflower fields

Apart from that the countryside is also poor as hell. In Georgia I've seen a horse cart once. In Bulgaria it seems to be the preferred method of transport. I seriously don't know what this country is doing in the EU. It seemed poorer and less developed than the Ukraine or Georgia.

NOW I'm feeling at home :)

The Sunny Beach resort was filled with gypsies and other kinds of scum trying to rip off western tourists. Literally everybody tried to rip you off with something there. Taxi's were even more expensive than in Holland. In Sofia taxi's are metered and charge 0,70 Lev for a kilometer (about 0,35 euro's). But in Sunny Beach you'd pay 30 Lev for a three mile ride down to the clubs (about 15 euro's).

Interior of a really cool beach club in Sunny Beach, for some reason most western tourists went 'downtown' to the clubs instead of this chilled-out place with waitresses straight out of a fashion magazine.

Some 2 days after my arrival we went to a place called the "Heineken House". The name sounded alarming but I chose to tag along anyway. The name didn't say too much - it was exactly as I imagined it to be. Hordes of drunken Dutch, Dutch beer and Dutch music. Geez.

My 'fellow' countrymen enjoying their holidays at the "Heineken House"

After three days I had enough and went out. The last day was nice actually, going to the beach located a mere 800 meters from the apartment building (for some reason the people at the apartment hadn't found this beach in the 10 days they were there already). I love the Black Sea. It doesn't have any decent waves, but the water is very warm and slightly less salty than other seas making it excellent for swimming.

The beach, with a view on a peninsula with a semi-authentic town

Taking a domestic flight from Burgas to Sofia with a stopover in Varna I connected to the AirSnailmunchers flight back to Paris, in order to miss my connection at CDG and not being helped a single inch further by the airline staff. When I informed the flight attendant (some really creepy French dude) that I was about to miss my connection he just said 'ai ai ai' and continued walking down the aisle.

Now this is what Bulgaria looks like

Air France, I will never set foot on any of your crappy flights again. And keep those paws off KLM.

Just for the record, and for the sake of not pissing off the group of people whose hospitality I enjoyed; I really did have fun. Definately a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Good to experience it once, but I'll never do it again.

One more thing about smoking...

One more thing about smoking. Yeah, I know I have covered this subject before, but the smoking regulations in California keep pissing me off. Of course, you feel sorta like a loser when you have to walk away from a nice dinner with a group of friends to go outside. Of course it's annoying that you can't smoke in bars or clubs. But a non-smoking beach? Out in the fresh air?

Yes. At least in Santa Monica. Apart from the fact that the anti-smoking rules/laws are hitting the point of going beyond being reasonable, there is some hypocrisy involved as well. The city government not wanting any butts on the beach is perfectly understandable, the same goes for any other form of rubbish.

On Sunday I was out surfing at Venice, and was literally paddling through sewage. However, there isn't a single cigarette butt to be found on the beach. The nasty greenish-yellowish foam can make you sick, give you all kinds of rashes and what not. Cigarette butts on the beach are just nasty, but not more than that.

So where exactly are the priorities? Rats.

God Save the Queen

Somewhere in a far-out corner of Europe is a shitty little country below sea level. This patch of mud is headed by the house of Van Oranje-Nassau. Their name inspired the national colour: orange.

Queensday in Amsterdam

Twice on even years and once on odd years*, this entire place turns orange. Orange flags, decorative crap, random things painted orange, orage hair spray-paint, orange outfits, orange everything with the occasional red-white-blue thing to break the Orange Ocean. The national dress-up occasions are usually accompanied by vast amounts of beer, dope, puke and random drunken chants.

Queensday in Amsterdam, boatin' around

So yea, that's how that swamp folk entertains themselves on the few occasions there are. But, let's not confuse the orange-mania with actual patriotism. That's still a dirty word in the Low Countries, and of course only practiced by facsists and reactionary Christian-fundamentalists like Andre Rouvoet (Holland's minister for Youth and Family affairs - yeah, that's actually a ministry).

Queensday in Amsterdam, the "Golden Corner" of the Herengracht

That's why orange is widely accepted as our national colour, relating to the House of Orange and the monarchy. However, the use of the red-white-blue is considered nationalistic and henceforth "not done". Put a Dutch flag on the sleeve of your jacket and you're sure to get a beating by some of the rogue-Xth-generation-immigrants because you're a nazi, neo-fascist, "NSB'er"*, or something else dirty.

Queensday in Amsterdam. This is more of an 'art for art's sake' picture, but it's some rave in a parking garage opposite the Stadhouderskade.

Can't really disagree actually... the people wearing those Dutch flags are mostly wannabe-nazi's. And what kinda douchebag wants to walk around with a Dutch flag in the first place?

* Once a year, April 30th is Queensday, and every two years a World/European Football Championship

* NSB = Nationaal Socialistische Beweging, the Dutch nazi party in the 30's and 40's

Show off stuff

As you all know, whenever there's something like a World Exhibition, a Football World Championship or Olympics, countries try to go the extra mile when it comes to building their prospective cities of the so-called future.

This is the Estaçaõ do Oriente in Lisboa, Portugal. It was built for the 1998 World Exhibition. Even though I'm no fan of contemporary architecture I like this one.

The California Smokers Witch Hunt

Most people will probably know California isn't the most smoker-friendly place in the US. Apart from smoking being banned in all public places including bars and restaurants, smoking is also officially prohibited within a 20-feet radius of any openable door or window.

The practical enforcement of the 20-feet law is a completely different story (20 feet usually turns out to be somewhere in the middle of a traffic lane) but the intentions are clear.

But who said "Volksgericht" is old-fashioned? During my stay in Santa Monica, I was getting a coffee at the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf on OPB and settled in at the outdoor seating area. Facing me was a blind wall (meaning I was compliant with the 20-feet rule) so I lit up.

I had barely taken a hit or a very Californian-looking guy came up to me from across the seating area, and busted out "you're not supposed to smoke here". No excuse me or any form of fake sugar-coated politeness that usually accompanies the general way in this place this time.

He was looking as if I was an old nazi found after 45 years in Argentina, or a tramp sitting on someone's front porch. He looked really nasty.

"You mean it's not allowed here, or I'm not supposed to?" I replied trying to look equally nasty. "You shouldn't smoke here" was his only reply. I felt like givinig this guy a smack. I most definately felt like making a point out of it.


But then I remembered the first rule of travelling: stay out of trouble in foreign places. I consider the US a "contingency 3 country"(the higher the number on a scale 1-6 the more you wanna stay out of trouble) so my ratio disciplined my anger and I put the thing out. Back in Holland I would've probably told the dude to go screw himself and then ignore him while finishing my smoke. Not here.

When leaving I gave him a dirty look. He grinned. Bastard.

This sign indicates the presence of a designated smoking area at Sea World (San Diego). I was very happy when I saw this sign, as it rendered my plans, of taking a strategic place behind a wall, or at the top of the seats surrounding the seals & sea otters show in order to have a smoke, obsolete. The arrow points to the top right. When I checked out the other side of the sign, the arrow pointed to the bottom left. Right. I figured this *was* the designated smoking area so I lit up. Undisturbed :-)


The irony is of course that so much time, effort and nastyness is put into fighting one of the great dangers of our time: smokers. They smell. They're nasty. They're evil. If you stand on Lincoln & Pico between 5 and 5:10 I guess you inhale as much shit as you'd get from an entire pack of cigarettes. And the fact that smokers die younger after paying a lifetime of extra taxes on tabacco is good news for healthcare - it allows them to focus on less nastier people (see picture).

Hi there

This is not about search marketing, bid management systems or SEO. Nor is it about local search trends, or the latest rant of some marketing guru. I mean, I love my work but there's more stuff to explore.

I am the proud owner of a crappy Nokia N73. It is a very bad phone with an exellent camera. That's why I got it.

We live in interesting times, a turning point in history, not least because of technology. I wonder if the Romans of 476 AD knew they lived on the edge of two eras. Probably not. So do we know it? Probably not.

But by carrying a Finnish piece of junk in my pocket I get to capture some stuff that I think is interesting, or arty, or nice. Or ugly. Or sometimes not because the image is aesthetically appealing but just 'cause it captures the "Zeitgeist" - the spirit of our time, or the one of a time past long ago.

And sometimes, if you're lucky, you might just capture a little piece of what's yet to come.

NB: all pictures on my blog are mine, unless stated otherwise. I am the copyright holder of these images, but I usually don't make a point out of re-use if you ask nicely :-)