Daisy the Duck and lobster

At first sight Daisy might not have anything to do with lobster but it was the name we picked at Key Fisheries (Key Marathon, Florida Keys) to be shouted through the restaurant's megaphone once our order was ready. You see, it's easier to shout a well-known comic book character than boring or unpronounceable surnames. A-Z-I-N-H-E-I-R-A, say what? The restaurant itself is at the harbour, so some customers anchor their boats just beside it and come to make an order. We tried the Reuben Lobster - it was heavy in our stomachs - full of carbs (wrapped in big slices of bread) and fat (with cheese dripping from it and fries as side-dish) - but heaven in our hearts. That's the way an American meal at the waterfront should feel like, a marathon-size feast. We dragged ourselves back to our Dodge and drove south. We engaged in a monologue with the cutest bambies in sidewalks at Key Deer. We continued our tarmac adventure and finally reached Key West to discover its hidden treasure: Key Lime Pie! Where were you all this time?  Will we ever meet again?

Key Deer, Florida Keys

Lunchboxes and the Emirates

We were positively surprised by the Seychellois. They don't dress tastelessly, which is amazing given the scarce garment shops in the islands. Especially on Sunday morning, it's a treat to see older ladies coming from the church with pristine white and pink dresses, adorned with hats that remind the Roaring 20's. They live in not-so-shabby houses, are well nurtured - they can make a mean octopus curry taste wonderfully in a Styrofoam lunchbox - and actually travel. The daughter of the owner of the guesthouse where we were staying in La Digue actually told us that, since her brother worked in Abu Dabi, she went there already twice. Though she didn't like it, nor she liked Dubai or Singapore. Thailand was her thing, which made us wonder (with all respect for Thai people, food and landscapes): why is the grass always greener on the other side of the fence, even if paradise is on this side?

Victoria Market

Customs and fast food

Just when we thought that rent-a-car companies would never do us a favour, except to make our wallets lighter, we find ourselves blessed with a beam of anglo-hispanic cortesy.
Not only were we given the possibility of leaving our rental in a different country, but we also managed to cross the border on foot, deliver the car keys at the airport counter and board the plane to the City. Particularly interesting to see this in a piece of land where apes are in higher numbers than human inhabitants!
Essential element in the puzzle was the muffin we had to buy to be able to leave the car at the parking lot of a globally known fast-food joint. And that ended up in the bin of the no man's zone between the two countries.
Thank God for cheap food, and online check-in!

Do you want a brew?

Chang and Brahma

In many ways Thailand is like Brazil. If you want to get from A to B, you can be sure to arrive there, but just forget about the means and the sequence - there's no possible trace of logic to help you there.
Our ferry ticket says 12h but we actually leave after 2pm, because we need to wait for them to pass lugagge and people from one boat to the other in open water. And then if the sea gets rough, just duck and pray... and be aware of any chairs flying across the upper deck.

Then the airport transfers. Most of them stop for months during the rainy season but the proud drivers still think a new blasting sound system and flashy moving disco-like lights are a pretty good investment to entertain tourists or, more likely themselves. There's no communication possible - most of them say "yes" and nod to pretty much anything you ask. And we worried for a second thinking where the hell would they put all the luggage when the van was already full of people - just until the driver climbed to the top and started laying down suitcases and rucksacks, tied up with one and only thin rope - we didn't loose any of them though.

We left Ko Lanta with some other tourists - our destination was Krabi airport. We started in a pick-up truck. Then when one of us was already riding on the back (cause there were no other seats left) we changed to a van. On pep talk basis we asked the girl in front of us where she was going and she replied "Bangkok". And we said: "Oh! You're also going to Krabi airport then!?", to which she replied: "No!". We stopped the conversation there for the sake of our souls. In the end we were the only people to get out at Krabi airport - the others continued to God-knows-where. Our flight to Bangkok took more than one hour. We don't know how long it took her, but we believe she saw the light of the next day in the capital.

Ko Lanta, Thailand

Late lunch on my way to Munich

Today, for the first time I had a business trip cancelled while in route.
Due to the heavy snowfall in Bucharest, the flight MUC-OTP was cancelled and I decided to fly back home instead of waiting for the next morning.

Total travel time: ~4h (LH2287 at 12:50 and LH2290 at 15:20)
How to go: Lufthansa assures 8 daily flights to Munich from Brussels and return
When to go: during heavy snowfall in Bucharest
Average ground temperature in February: -5ºC
Menu (in both flights): Styrian Pumpkin Salad with Tuna Strip;
Goat's Milk Cream Cheese Tartar on Parsley Pesto;
Bean Salad made of Five Different Beans aromatized with Cumin, Savory, Dried Dice Tomatoes and Red Chilli,
and Balsamic and Pear Jelly Cubes.

Macau and Pastéis de Nata

Our 3-day visit to Macau ended up in a gastronomic experience. We could already sense it upon arrival, with the ‘boa noite’ (good evening) that the passport control lady gave us, that we were in for a treat.

Forgetting the fact that Macanese drive on the wrong side of the road and have squinty eyes, one could easily imagine himself in a Portuguese downtown, well packed with small rococo churches and colorful façades.

We had read that many restaurants were famous for their Portuguese menus so we decided for ‘Caravela’ (Pátio do Comandante Mata e Oliveira), honoring the boat that took Portuguese adventurers to discover new worlds. We could as easily be in a small ‘tasca’ in Lisbon. The atmosphere was the same… small tables too close to each other to let people pass; RTP channel screaming news from Portugal out of the TV set; loud customers talking about how much better they would run the country…

We ordered in Portuguese – even though the waitress didn't speak it (but recognised somehow the sounds) – carrot soap and seafood rice but not any food rice – sauce was flooding the plate and it had swimming crabs, oh nostalgia!!! When we were about to pay an old man with a cane walked in and said “I want a galão, please!” – ‘galão’ is a drink of espresso and foam milk. Rustically delicious, but don’t expect to drink a gallon of coffee, we are serious people mind you.

By counting the incredible number of windows with custard tarts (‘pastéis de nata’) we decided on a benchmarking, giving the winning prize to a local joint not far from ‘Caravela’. They make them crustier…

We ended our day splendidly by going to ‘A Lorcha’ – more Portuguese delicacies, including ‘pastéis de bacalhau’ (cod fritters) and açorda (bread porridge). A chinese fellow sitting next to us thought that we were Brits at first. We explained “we are Portuguese”, to which he promptly replied “ah! you know that Portuguese were here in Macau for many years?”. Talk about short memory loss! We just left the place in 99. He even added “Oh! You should have gone to Shanghai instead”. Big red and blasting WRONG!

Macau, Casino Lisboa

Lonely Planet and fishing quotas

Hong Kong will be always present in our memories as the place where we’ve eaten the best shushi of our lives. We were in Hong Kong Island and it was late. 2pm is not time anymore for lunch for an average ‘Hong Konger’, mind you. The place was gloomy, in one of these narrow streets behind striking grey skyscrapers, smelly, rubbishy. It was nevertheless referenced in Lonely Planet and we treat our literature as serious stuff. The kitchen was about to close, we had to rush ordering. Service was unremarkable, no frills decoration, decaying restrooms. But a second after tasting that fresh, soft and salty tuna all the surroundings faded away and we imagined ourselves swimming freely in the Pacific waters, in a time where Bluefin is not synonym for fishing quotas.

Hong Kong