I must lay off the pear juice! Runs galore all morning and thank goodness for the airmail edition of Le Monde! I was dreaming of waffles with loads of butter and maple syrup but instead a strange breakfast of canned grapes, stale bread and jam. My rumbling stomach calmed down so off to the beach with Eric and Pierre. Played some Frisbee and novice Eric caught on quickly. Sylvia and some Czech girl joined in and we played Frisbee for two hours. After steaming up I was in the freezing cold water for 10 minutes and emerged numb. We stayed until 5. I had my half-cooked dinner as the gas cannister ran out. At 8 a group of us snuck through “control” on the beach to the communist youth camp discotheque. One needs a special pass to access the compound of which we do not have as this is the exclusive domain of young communists. A 12-day vacation with all meals costs 500 lei at the communist youth camp. The Romanians are trying to pump up the Black Sea coast as a tourist destination but at present I do not think they have the infrastructure to support that ambition. And the swimming is much better in Yugoslavia and food is somewhat more plentiful there. Tourists are also charged double price for accommodation. Camping for example is 7 lei for East Bloc residents and 22 lei for non-East Bloc residents. The music was much better tonight and Eric and I danced with some DDR girls. Pierre sold his shoes to some young communist. We left after a couple of terrible Romanian beers of which one can only drink half a bottle before it goes flat. We headed out to the Dacia nightclub which was dead so we waked home in light rain. Please no more Romanian rain!
RKS Wine: The Great Viognier Search
For Canadian wine drinkers say “Viognier” and you might receive a blank look. That’s too bad as it can make a great wine and an ideal companion for crustaceans. It matches well with simply prepared lobster, crab and shrimp. There aren’t great quantities of it produced in Canada. The most recent Canadian Viognier I encountered was on a pre surge COVID retreat in Niagara where I encountered a rather poor Fielding Estate Viognier. Oh and Niagara Falls was deserted and was incredibly enjoyable! There have been some decent lower priced varieties coming from the South of France some of which have been top notch. In this case from Pays D’Oc we have a $12.95 Guillaume Aurèle 2020 Viognier.
As for aromatics this golden coloured wine has that familiar Viognier signature peaches, honey, tangerine and pineapple. You might want to summarize that as tropical. On the palate a quasi creaminess to it with a bit of pineapple, mango and spice. A moderate almost long finish with a bit of heat not surprising given its 13.5%. Outperforms its price. You can find “value” in Southern France. This is no cheap n cheerful plonk!
The Liquor Control Board of Ontario Vintages catalogue states tuna steak, roast pork or chicken curry is a good food match and that makes sense although I think a tuna steak would suit a Pinot Noir/Pinot Nero/Blaufränkisch/Fetasca Neagra more than a Viognier but the next time I have a tuna steak perhaps I should try it with a Viognier? In any case a good sipper.
(Guillaume Aurèle Viognier 2020 IGP Pays d’Oc, Alma Cersius France, $12.95, Liquor Control Board of Ontario # 380741, 750 mL, 13.5%, Robert K. Stephen A Little Birdie Told Me So Rating 90/100).
“Andrij the Orphaned Ukrainian Rescue Dog” :Chapter 11 Quick American Television Appearances
From the Ukrainian Embassy in Washington I appear on a few American television shows on Zoom calls. The Ukrainian Ambassador does all the talking while I sit on a chair beside him. The Ambassador tells my story about my human family being obliterated by Russian firepower and plays that famous clip of me attacking the Brute in Kiev. They are fascinated about the 50 million Euro Tsar Putin has put on my little fluffy white head. How could a dog be so vilified by a Tsar? The Ambassador explains my antics and where there is an audience they stand up and clap. Thank goodness they do not cover my lunge at the Russian Washington Capital hockey player. That was very immature of me but I am a simple dog who is learning quickly. I am also learning quickly that my anger is best directed toward the Russian invaders and those in the Russian state that enable Tsar Putin. I note that our army has captured many Russian soldiers that are confused why they are in the Ukraine but if they turn back, they will be shot. War can be so complicated. There are courageous Russians that demonstrate against the war and are tossed into prison or “disappear” for exercising that right they haven’t had in 22 years. Given the absolute monarchy of Tsar Putin that is understandable but not forgivable. The Ambassador’s comments are similar for each appearance namely we need NATO military intervention not applause and standing ovations when President Zelensky speaks to elected assemblies.
I enjoyed the one live in canine appearance with my friend Jim Prosciutto at the CNN network. I spent some time in the CNN jet flying back to Washington from Warszawa with him. He is on leave resting from his brutal assignment in my country but demanded he be in the studio with me with the Ambassador. Millions of viewers are stunned at the beginning of the show when I roar across the room and give all sorts of kisses to Prosciutto. In a sense we go back a long way. In war even minutes can be categorized as “a long way”. He tells my story to millions of Americans while I sit on his lap. CNN ratings go through the roof. This fluffy “lap dog” decorated by the United States Marines? My killing of the Brute is shown uncensored on CNN with warnings about its graphic nature. The Ambassador closes by saying this is what Russian aggression and brutality can do to seemingly peaceful creatures. In closing I parade around the studio with my U.S marine flak jacket and helmet. I wear them in public now because of the price on my head. I also like to remind people by wearing this combat outfit that we are at war in my country. My appearance on CNN itself has become a major international story.
By 5 p.m. I am on a US Navy jet to Buffalo New York where Bob and Fay with Reggie the Egyptian Rescue Dog and Dylan the Westie are awaiting me. I am really very nervous about meeting such valiant and powerful figures. On the plane I sit behind the pilots who give me a high five before we take off. I am wearing a cool CNN wool hat with Ukrainian flags on the sides and yes I look tough! The Americans are not taking any security risks as there is an F-18 jet keeping an eye on us.
“Travels to a Different Time” : 8July1974: Contanesti, Romania: Incessant Line-Ups and Sneaking into Communist Youth Camp Discotheque; Russians not Appreciated!
Feeling much better today so some stale bread and jam for breakfast. I seem to be wasting away as where has all the food gone in Romania? I went to the cigarette butt littered beach and this time the water was calm. There are elderly women here with rather distended bellies lounging on the beach. The hawkers on the beach are bothersome pestering you to buy ice cream, chocolate and popcorn. I was home at noon getting slightly burnt. At least there is no Romanian rain I have not been having good luck with. In communist Romania you are subject to the national pastime of waiting in line. How many hours have I wasted waiting in line here? For example if you want to buy cheese you have to wait in line to enter the store. Then you line up to have it weighed and you get a receipt for it. You then wait in line to pay and then wait in line again to pick up the cheese. I thought Yugoslavia was bad but this is so bad it is comedic! Imagine taking these poor Romanians into a supermarket in Montreal. It would be a fantasy. Seeing the line up I just gave up and went into a cafeteria where I had a lunch of beef and potatoes all carefully weighed for a $1.15 dinner. I came home and being a bit sunburnt finished off reading my airmail edition of Le Monde which also serves as toilet paper as there is no toilet paper in the washrooms. Poor Karl Marx would be crying! I wanted eggs for dinner but guess what? None to be found. So I made a bizarre but edible spaghetti cooked on my mini propane burner. That burner is powered by a small gas cannister. It has been worth its weight in gold! If I cut my hair and wore a track suit could I pass for a Romanian?
After dinner played some frisbee with Pierre and along with a Finnish guy we snuck along the beach into the youth camp discotheque. The Russians came in after us and there was silence for a moment. No one wanted to fraternize with them. Poor Russians! Communist youth are dressed very shoddily and the music was about as putrid as the Romanian beer. We stayed a couple of hours and headed back on the beach. At least unlike East Germany there was no barbed wire we had to cut through. We evaded the checkpoint. Thank goodness the “control people” were not armed. It would be a shame to die to listen to socialist rock and try and drink Romanian beer.
“Travels to a Different Time” : 6July1974: Constanţa and Continesti, Romania: Revenge of the Slimy Meal and Pear Nectar: Not Good Enough for the Young Communists
I woke up with a queasy stomach. I think it was the slimy meal I had yesterday and the 7 pear nectars I drank. Of course, the two more pear nectars for breakfast did not help. But there is an issue with fresh fruit here and that is shortages! I packed up and had difficulty finding the bus to Continesti. I had a long walk to the bus station and feeling super queasy got on the bus which crawled but perhaps that was me feeling sick and impatient. The stench of body odour and garlic breath almost made me hurl. I had to collect myself for 10 minutes after getting off the bus. I went to the nearest cafeteria and had a Pepsi and an aspirin. I found a campground and paid for two nights after waiting in yet another line-up. The beach beckoned and I suffered through and through with the freezing water. I returned after a couple of hours and yes another freezing cold shower and the toilets stink and yes no toilet paper. I suppose that is also in short supply like most everything else in Romania. Feeling somewhat better I bought Le Monde and was reading it in the campground when a guy called Pierre from Quebec approached and said “Bonjour” seeing that I was reading Le Monde. He writes for a big Montreal daily Le Jour. We talked politics awhile and decided to go to a nearby cafeteria which was part of an international socialist youth camp. We are not young socialists and did not have a special ticket to enter. We are young but not recognized as young socialists. So much for a spirit of internationalism. How international is this camp? In Romania it seems sucking as much money from the tourists is the game. Pierre, who is here writing an article on European socialism, said it is the hard-working capitalists that are providing the edifications and foundations of Romanian socialism. Our campground spot is double what the good communists pay. Discrimination! We returned to our tents to a meager meal of bread and ham. I had the chills so crawled into my sleeping bag not even bothering to brush my teeth.
“Travels to a Different Time” : 5July1974: Constanţa, Romania: Mr. Culture Eats Slimy Dinner and Drinks Pathetic Romanian Beer After Swimming at Garbage Strewn Black Sea Coast
Up at 8 this morning and after saying good morning to Victoria headed out to search for food which is a chore in Communist Romania. I did find 4 pear nectars at the local supermarket which is anything but “super”. Being a “hepee” I am always subject to stares from a population that sees few long-haired western tourists or even Mr. and Mrs. Straightlaced tourists. Came home after hunting down some bread. While I ate breakfast Victoria turned on a national radio station with some good classical music which was always cut short by “tourist information”. I went to the Black Sea beach and it is strewn with garbage and cigarette butts. The water is covered in seaweed and its frozen. There are hordes of locals kicking up the sand playing football. There are all sorts of hawkers selling cheap merchandise and food. After the beaches of Yugoslavia quite frankly who on earth would come here for a vacation? After the beach I stopped in and visited a Turkish mosque which was rather plain but offered a spectacular view. The older part of town is beautiful and juts out into the ocean like a peninsula. The new part of town is blemished by socialist architecture with is ugliness camouflaged by rows of trees. Next stop an art gallery with nothing of note except for an exhibit of charcoal on paper drawings that captured the Romania of yesteryear. The archeological museum was the best piece of culture for the day with shards of ancient pottery, Greek sculptures and Roman artifacts. I had the museum to my own which gave it a greater impact than if I had been in a crowd. Next to an incredibly beautiful church called the Church of St. Pierre and Paul. I returned home for lunch and gave the beach another try. Came home and went out for a dinner of some slimy dish which was filling and a step up from pig slop. I had a Romanian beer with it which is 30 cents for half a litre. It is strong at 12.5% but is mostly flat and one can only drink half of it before it totally loses its carbonation. Dessert was an ice cream. I was back at 9:30 and watched a “Musica Popular” show on television which was mostly traditional Romanian folk music. I was in bed by 11:30.
“Travels to a Different Time” :4July1974: Bucresti and Constanta, Romania: Staying with Grannies in an Ornate Room from a Different Era; Travelling with an Egg Thief
I had breakfast with Sorin when he left at 8 to go to work but my belongings were so wet I had to dry them on the balcony. Sorin’s girlfriend cooked me up some delicious eggs. Romanian eggs are incredibly tasty. I packed up and she cooked me more eggs with fresh bread and a beer and I was out the door just before a bunch of Sorin’s friends arrived for lunch. I did a farewell jungle imitation and they all loved it begging me to come back.
I took the bus to the outskirts of the city and headed to the highway back to the Black Sea Coast to my destination of Constanţa. A group of peasants approached me and were crowded around me wanting to touch my long hair! Can this be real? I was quickly picked up by a Frenchman and his Romanian wife heading back to Paris. Again the story I was told about the only way of escaping Romania was to marry a foreigner.
The next lift was all the way to my destination with a truck driver carrying a huge cargo of eggs destined for Cairo. Romanian is a Latin language and speaking French and some Spanish I can use this in communicating in three languages to try and make myself understood. We chatted and it is as if we understood each other. Perhaps we did and for three hours that seemed to work. The ability to communicate with people is so important and this interweaving of languages, facial expressions and hand movements is sort of a language in itself. In any case he stopped near the port and took off the tarp over the cargo and pirated lots of eggs and gave me a couple of dozen. Off I went walking into the city centre finding a tourist agency that gave me hugely expensive prices of 135 lei for a room but as a student he would do a favour for me. Up above the tourist agency was a room I could have for 85 lei. I went up to the room and two old ladies Victoria and Raglesa fussed over me the long haired “heepee” like I was their grandson. I went out for dinner and really pigged out for $1.15. It is like I am never knowing where my next meal may come from in this country. It is almost like it is reassuring to see food.
I returned home and had a hot shower oh so glorious. Victoria insisted I dry my long hair with a hair dryer she was so proud of. Although I have long hair I let it dry naturally but Victoria insisted and her hairdryer was limping along sadly! I managed to free myself from these caring old birds to a most ornate room from another era. Everything is polished and cleaned and so well maintained. The sheets are clean and crisp. Am I in a vestige of pre-Communist Romania? And I gave them the eggs which they were delighted to accept.
“Travels to a Different Time” :3July1974; Bucharest, Romania: A Sulky and Jealous Woman: More Line-Ups and Bureaucracy
Up at 9 a.m. and I had breakfast with Sorin and his wife. Sorin had to go to work. He is an engineer. I was left behind with his wife who is very sulky and uncommunicative. I wrote some letters, looked at my maps and made some tentative plans about future destinations. Sorin came home for lunch and we had vodka, bread, cheese and stuffed peppers. After lunch we had a walk to his site which was a new hotel under construction. I walked around the city for 4 hours and went to the Carpati Tourist agency and asked if there were student accommodations to some sour looking woman who said they had no such accommodations in Bucharest. That was a load of crap as the city map I got from her had numerous student accommodations marked. I pointed this out to the sour woman who said they did have student accommodations but they are all full and private accommodations were a huge $12 a night! Can I believe anything this bureaucrat had to tell me? I discovered a main street for what seemed to be ordinary working people and discovered an incredible marketplace. There was a peasant begging and her child was eating a dirty piece of bread. I think they were Roma people known as gypsies. I have seen some of their horse drawn caravans here in Romania like out of some movie. I gave some thought to what Li Li had said about how hypocritical the Romanian Communist party was by saying that all people were equal. Given the way the Party members live what baloney that all people are equal. That is very evident here in Romania. I purchased a pound of raspberries for 50 cents and some visjne which are soft cherries. Fruit is not fully in season so I will have to wait for a big bash of grapes. I ate the berries and then got lost. Getting lost in a great way of discovering a place. I soon saw my marker “The Intercontinental Hotel” and got back on track. I passed by an ugly glob of a building called The National Theatre. After that to an art gallery with some good paintings by Stendahl, Maisichheui, Lazarescu Florina and many other Romanian artists. Sorin was home when I arrived and we had some cookies and some of the visjne I bought followed by vodka but this Romanian brew is very harsh on the throat. Sorin said the sourpuss was not his wife but his girlfriend from Bacău and she was jealous of me and did not like me. I am heading out tomorrow but he asked I return and he would give me a great tour of Bucharest. Sorin and his sulky girlfriend went to a party and said they would return around midnight. They left me a key and I went out to The Intercontinental Hotel for dinner. Dinner was a less than memorable smattering of French fries and 4 meatballs. I wanted a beer but there was a line up for tickets for the beer and another line up to pick up the beer. What is going on with these stupid line ups in Romania? I took the 37-bus home and had a vodka and orange juice and leafed through some Romanian magazines. I dozed off around 11 until Sorin and sourpuss returned at 12:30. I had enough energy to do some jungle imitations which sent Sorin into hysterics. A sailor imitation was good too but this did nothing in my popularity contest with the sourpuss.
“Travels to a Different Time” : 2July1974: Do I Choose the Vodka, Girls and Party Option? Doing Business on the Black Market
To my surprise flying to Bucharest from Bacău is cheaper than the bus! So I bought a ticket for $2 leaving later in the day. My ticket on Tarom is a simple piece of cardboard saying Bacău-Bucresti. I head back into town to grab some breakfast but the line-ups for bread and meats were incredible. I just gave up soggy and dispirited and went to a restaurant for some cream of vegetable soup with some meat possibly beef and potatoes in watery gravy. With nothing much to do went for a vile Romanian beer. I then went to the best hotel in town for another beer and ran into a black marketeer and changed some currency into Romanian lei at a great profit. A couple of his friends arrived and they insisted I stay at their villa and promising a good time with vodka, girls and a nonstop party. There was a doctor in the group who wanted me to join the “festivities”. We then moved to a bar and had vodka shots for 25 cents each. The doctor wanted to leave Romania and is scheming to marry a German divorcee. This was about the only way he could leave Romania. After a last shot of vodka they drove me to the airport and said I must phone their friend in Bucharest. The passengers were workers. For such a tiny airport the security was intense with some 15 soldiers with machine guns. I met a guy called Christian beside me who offered me cigarettes and bought me orange juice on the plane. The plane was a Russian AN-24 and it belched fumes and the plane rattled down the runway and you had to shout to be heard. It was non-pressurized and a very bouncy low altitude flight. 45 minutes later we landed in Bucharest and Christian phoned the guy the black marketeers said I call. Christian , a gym teacher, took me to my host Sorin an engineering student. Sorin had a party going with his friends and his wife. We had meatballs, yogurt, sausages and eggs with East German beer. After the friends left Sorin and I had another beer and hit the sack. What a day!
Photo jetphotos.net
“Andrij The Orphaned Ukrainian Rescue Dog”: Chapter 10: U.S. Marines Honor Me: Pissing on Putin
Another night in the White House before I head to Toronto. But first there are a few talk shows that are so popular in the United States in the morning. I am woken up at 6 a.m. and have a quick breakfast with President Biden. He has yogurt and strawberries and I have some beef kibble with lots of cold water. President Biden says good-bye after breakfast and says he has asked Reggie the Egyptian Rescue Dog, a good friend of his and the United States, to do him a “favour” and I may be involved. President Biden insists I refer to him as Joe. And before he heads off he says there is some red haired woman called Jenn in the White House Briefing Room that has arranged a special ceremony for me? Joe hands me a special White House dog bed with a presidential seal on it. He picks me up and looks me in the eye and says we are best friends and he will be seeing me soon. A nice man. Gentle and kind not like that brute Putin. That shit would slice me up and feed me to Siberian huskies. I’ll slice him up before that!
I go to the White House briefing room and the red-haired woman says hello and we start a press conference. The world press is there. She announces a special session. Some high-ranking US Marine soldier comes out and addresses the press saying I am being made an honorary Captain of the US Marines First Division and given a Robert Leckie Medal of Honour. Robert Leckie was a brave decorated warrior of the First Division in a bitter battle against the Japanese in the Pacific. The Marine guy then gives me a flak jacket with the United States flag on one side and the Ukrainian flag on the other and a helmet with a U.S. marines First Division insignia on it.
This is broadcast worldwide and Putin digs deep into his money laundering pool and ups my bounty to 40 million euros. It is upped to 50 million when after the press conference I raise my leg and piss on a picture of Putin on the White House lawn. Go Ukraine go. Push Tsar Putin over the edge and we’ll be marching on Moscow!
A Bird's Eye View of Fashion, Food, Travel, Culture, Beverage and Curiosity 