Death Valley/Zion

 

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Hawaii & Australia

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Our first trip to Australia. We travelled through Hawaii and connected with an old classmate from Philosophy (Neil Farnsworth) who lives on Maui.

In Australia Kate had a special KBS meeting in Freemantle -- the port city to Perth in Western Australia. We explored the Margaret River wine region before the conference.

After the conference we flew back to Sydney where we rented a car for a drive up to Brisbane in Queensland where Kate had meetings with her colleague Ross Homel (they developed a book on bar room violence together). We explored the Hunter Valley wine region on our way north taking the inland route along the great dividing range. On our return we took the coastal route.

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Texas in November

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Austin, Texas, November 5-10, 2002

Tuesday, Nov. 5.

"Well, I wish I was in Austin...." And we are! IBM invited Reg down and Kate gets to carry the luggage. Air Canada wanted over $800 to fly to Austin so we flew out of Buffalo for about $300 Cdn (IBM paid a corporate rate for Reg that ended up being about $100 US). Of course, we had to drive to Buffalo which introduced some uncertainty into the travel time — i.e., leaving enough time for a possible long wait at the border crossing. Reg was coached to say "I'm going to a conference. No, I'm not consulting. No, they're not paying me." As it happens, there was absolutely no line-up at the border and all the border guy wanted to know was whether Reg owned the car we were driving — he asked that twice in case Reg was mistaken the first time! We couldn't tell if he was a white shirt or a blue shirt (Reg's friend Paul said to go to the blue shirts) because he was all bundled up in a black jacket.

It was all smooth sailing, and we even had time to stop and buy a bottle of wine for when we got to Austin and some carrots to munch along the way. We arrived at the airport so early that they put us on an earlier flight to Chicago (which seemed to be wise as there were delays at Chicago). They searched us extra carefully and weren't going to let Kate take her cane/seat on board but capitulated after she argued a bit — plus they found her knee braces and a bag of our prescription drugs which lent some credence to the notion that we were old and feeble and it really was a cane. Reg got the big search as well since his belt buckle tripped the alarm. They didn't check any of the camera gear but X-rayed his shoes and nitro-swiped the computer. It had only been a year since the 9-11 attack so this wasn't a surprise.

The flight to Chicago was fine; we had three seats to spread out on. At Chicago we tried to get on an earlier flight to Austin and would have if our luggage hadn't been checked. The Chicago airport is horrible and overpriced like all airports. At the ridiculously small bar, a surly waiter asked us for photo ID ("we card 100%") before grudgingly serving us drinks. We each bought a taco before getting on the flight because there was no food served on either plane except pretzels. The flight to Austin was less than 1/10 full and Kate was able to stretch out and doze for practically the whole flight. Also, American Airlines brags about how they took out seats and made more leg room. Presumably, that's where the food budget went and that's fine with us.

The smooth trip had a little blip when we arrived in Austin. We both commented how we didn't recognize anything about the airport and that it seemed much much larger than we remembered. But we found our way to the car rental quite easily and picked up our car without problems. It was almost midnight so no one would be able to go over it with us to identify pre-existing damage — we were to do that ourselves. The woman at the car rental offered to give us directions to the hotel but we declined — heck, we know Austin like the back of our hand. Well, that hand looked pretty darn unfamiliar as we headed out of the airport in the piece of shit they rented to us (a Suzuki Swift that rattled and roared and drove like a tank — when we returned the car Reg told them to check the wheel bearings). Reg went careening down some highway shouting at Kate "Which way should I go?" Kate who is not too pleased to be shouted at and can't find where we are on the map at all insists that Reg pull over so that we can figure out where we are. It turns out they've built a new airport in Austin (which explains why it was so unfamiliar) in a different part of town so we were starting from some very wrong assumptions about where we were heading. As an aside, we were later reading a brochure about the airport which said they purposely play Texas music over the sound system, which explains why we were hearing Nanci Griffith while we were getting our car at midnight. 

Anyway, we got back on track and after a few misses trying to get onto Barton Springs Rd, we arrived safely at the Hyatt Regency hotel on Town Lake where they had a very nice room for us at $60 a night purchased on Priceline. What a deal! The hotel was hopping because it was election night and there was a big Democratic party there (although as it turned out, there was not much for the Democrats to celebrate). We were sort of hungry but it was now after 1am and the kitchen was closed. So we drank some of the wine we bought in Buffalo in our room and Kate ate way too many of those Cheerio snack things. 

We went to sleep and woke up to a perfect sunny day in Austin with a view of Town Lake from our window on the 14th floor looking westward towards the Lamar Street bridge and Barton Springs.

Threadgill's supper club was just around the corner but we never went. 

Wednesday, Nov. 6 (first day) 

First stop, as always, was the Magnolia Café, now the Magnolia conglomerate. The restaurant seems to grow bigger every time we come here and now there is a huge patio next door and plans for some serious expansion. Plus there's a gift shop, Prima Dora, in a separate lot and building on the other side of the patio where you can browse while waiting for a table. The food is still the same (good). Reg had migas (skipped the beer) and Kate had breakfast burritos (one egg & bean, one bean & potato). The waiter was really friendly and joked about Reg's impressive looking camera so we got him to take our picture. This was a bit of a problem at first because Reg had inadvertently turned the timer on but eventually we got it worked out. We went to the shop next door and Reg bought the same T-shirt the waiter had been wearing — a flying pterodactyl skeleton on black. They had lots of other neat stuff but we resisted because we were planning a trip to Gruene that day — where the gifts shops are known to be hot. We weren't able to find any good information about who was playing where, but noted the Continental Club on Congress had a Doug Sahm tribute coming up some time. When? 

Next stop (as always) was Waterloo Records and then a shopping venture across the street at the amazing natural foods store (11 different types of bran in their bulk section). Kate got the usual bran but also an interesting bulk cereal with raspberry flavor buds. At Waterloo Records we were able to get a bit more information regarding the Doug Sahm Birthday Bash we saw advertised at the Continental Club (which is just down Congress from our hotel, about halfway to the Magnolia). The clerk was very helpful and said the opening band, Victrola, was playing at the store on Friday. He thought it would be a good gig. That seemed to be the best bet for the night's entertainment. So we took our groceries back to the room and headed for Gruene — about 40 miles down the I-35 toward San Antonio. 

Gruene and the Guadalupe River 

We got to Gruene quite easily — we actually do know our way around the Austin vicinity. Get on the I-35 southbound and past San Marcos look for signs to Gruene. The first store we went into was great — Kate almost bought a 3-piece outfit and Reg lusted after a tin dog candle holder with real balls ($30) and a pepper light rista ($16). We resisted but did buy some gifts included a neat shiny hanging thing for Cindy (which was spotted later in the week at an Austin store at half the price — but what can you do!), a hair brush for Paula with a horse on it, and a fridge magnet for Noelle that said "Who are these kids and why are they calling me mom?" We then went to the Grist Mill restaurant and sat on the balcony in some perfectly beautiful weather where Kate worked her way through a Margarita, white wine and red wine while Reg stuck to the beer. We shared some chips and the best Pico de Gallo on either side of the Guadalupe River and enjoyed the view of the same. The Pico de Gallo was great — limes, tomatoes, onions, peppers and cilantro loosely chopped into a salsa (Emily Katz recipe). We then shared a broiled catfish dinner. Reg thought the waitress should be in school (it was a week day, after all) but when we were talking to her later it turned out she was 22 and finishing her final year at Southwestern University in San Marcos. She was from Houston (originally from Colorado and had moved to Houston when she was 10). She liked Houston but thought she probably wouldn't settle in Texas because it is too hot. We suggested that she live up north in the summer and in the south in the winter. We had a little discussion with her about the Bushwhacker. She seemed more concerned about the Republican policies regarding the environment than the impending (and almost certain) war with Iraq. It seems likely that Americans get all the information about Bush's warlike plans from US media. She's too young to remember — "Uncle Sam's got a plan again, he's got himself into a terrible jam way down yonder in Vietnam... be the first one on your block to have your boy come home in a box!"

After a lovely time sitting around at the restaurant, we went back out to do some more shopping. We bought a book for Gord called "When I am old I'll wear two different plaids" which he may not find funny but it's almost certain that Paula and Eva will. When Kate went to the pottery place, there was a song playing that she didn't recognize by a singer that she did — so she asked the potter who was singing and he said Guy Clark. It seems he has a new CD out; another to add to our list. We bought a few little pottery pieces for the support staff and a little candle holder for Jacquie. Back at the first store, where Kate tried on various clothes and bought various fridge magnets, we were entertained by a young teenager — "Ah, mom, I want this not this?" Her whining drove us up the wall. (Reg noted that he would have gladly drowned her if she were his daughter). As we were leaving, the store clerk was on the porch having a cigarette and said to us that if that girl (the whiner) had been her daughter, she wouldn't have bought her a damn thing!

Gruene was really hopping in part because of the New Braunfel's "Wurstfest" — a celebration of the German heritage. Beer and bratwurst, polkas and oomh-pah-pah bands. We avoided all of that. The Gruene dance hall was open and music was scheduled for the weekend — but nobody we knew.

Even though it was dark by the time we got back to the hotel (around 6), we sat out on the patio where we had a view of the Congress Street bridge and the old Crest hotel — it's now a Radisson (where Cindy, Reg & Kate had stayed on the first visit to Austin). Kate had giant shrimp while Reg had chili with bison, pork and some other meat — probably road kill of some sort — stewed in Shiner Bock Beer and, of course it being Texas, no beans.

Continental Club — Doug Sahm's B-Day Bash

We got to the club at around 8:00 (a $3 cab ride plus $2 tip, it's all of 4 blocks away). The music hadn't started and we were able to find good seats on a padded bench along the wall. The crowd was mostly much younger than us — for one thing, they still smoked like chimneys.

The front band was Victrola. They consisted of 4 guys (Bass fiddle, drum kit, piano and sax) and a young woman singer. Mostly the singer just sat on a chair with her hands on her knees and belted out songs. She was very pretty and a very good singer. She was not at all girly and not the thin over made-up type that band singers always seem to be. She drank bourbon on ice and really seemed to be enjoying herself. After the set, the band was sitting on the side of the stage near the bathrooms and the singer had a cute dog with her. When Kate came out of the bathroom, the singer said something to Kate in a friendly way and Kate patted her dog. Reg bought their CD; the release party was the Saturday before. They said that they play this night every week at the Continental Club and will do so until their end. They have quite a few avid fans as was evident from the place being pretty much packed.

Why do drummers smoke while playing? Guitarists stick their cigarette into the guitar head when they play but drummers smoke and beat the skins at the same time. Very odd. Also very macho, considering the cardiovascular involvement in drumming.

The dancers, sitting on chairs along the wall between us and the stage, danced up a storm. We really enjoyed both the band and watching the dancers. There was "Flash" who was pretty obviously a dance teacher because he had a strong lead. He danced with a lot of pizzazz including a little backward kick of his foot after a movement or step, a pointed toe (lifted in front like a dog about to shake a paw) when waiting for the next phrase and a lot of dancing on his toes. [Although Kate was impressed by his skills early on, she tired of his style, especially the little kick — she knew a teacher that she worked with at Tijuana Dance School [Tid Ja wanna dance?] who also had that little kick]. Kate also noted that he didn't know how to do a quick step (actually neither one does but the partner knows what it should look like). Then there was "Flatfoot" — a tall thin girl with flat shoes who had no style at all. She always danced flat on her feet with no flare at all but knew all the steps and danced a lot with Flash (perhaps his student?). There were several other dancers in the group, most notably a blond man and a blond woman, both of whom were pretty good but not up to Flash's standard. Mostly the band played swing and the dancers danced swing. There were a few quick steps and one cha cha. Flash was dancing the cha cha with a dark haired girl and they were both very good.

Later when we were signaling our waitress for more drinks, she apologized and said she couldn't resist dancing. We then realized that she was the one dancing with Flash and Kate told her she was very good. She thanked her and Kate asked her if she taught dancing. She said she used to and Flash still did. She was very nice and we had quite a conversation with her. She said that she had worked there for 11 years and it was a great place to work. People never quit — "Someone would have to die for someone new to get hired." They were like "family". Kate asked her whether that was what she wanted to do for her career and she said "oh no", she had to get out of the business, the smoke was killing her. She said she was taking training as a massage therapist, Trager, etc., you name it. She wanted to be a healer. She said that massage was a competitive market here in Austin — lots of people wanted massages but there were also lots of people trained to do it but, being a young woman she had an advantage over male therapists. She also told us that she was three generations born and raised in South Austin and that the area around the club had improved dramatically because the owner of the club had bought the motel across the road and cleaned that up. Her grand-dad had a store across the street as well. A proud south Austinite.

The Doug Sahm Tribute

Doug Sahm is one of Texas' proudest sons .... well most musicians love him but very few people know about him. Reg's friend, Len, from IBM didn't know the name (see Nov. 8) but then he didn't know "Tecumseh Valley" by Townes Van Zandt either. Anyway, Doug's landmark was the band the "Sir Douglas Quartet" with their hit "She's About a Mover!" round about 1965 — the "Sir Douglas Quartet" was an attempt to appear to be a British pop band like the Beatles et al. Apparently his taste for the weed led him to move to LA and he was a founding member of the Gram Parsons school of music. For us, he's more famous as one of the principals in the Texas Tornados with Augie Myers, Freddie Fender and Flaco Jimenez — and as a guy that Pat thought the world of. The Texas Tornados are a band we saw at the San Antonio Rodeo some years ago but have come to enjoy more and more in recent years. They were from San Antonio (just down the road and hour or so south) and played music very much influenced by Tejano (the original Texans often confused with Mexican), Blues (the Blacks) and pop music. He and Freddie Fender were the important voices of the Tornados. We met a couple of gals who went to school with Doug Sahm the first time we took Jack and Doreta to Luckenbach (in fact, on the wall downstairs, we have a picture of Jack with one of them giving him a hug at the hug-in).

Doug died suddenly a few years ago of cancer or something like that. We don't think it was anything lifestyle related but then Freddie Fender got a kidney transplant from one of his children, so who knows.

Doug's son organized the event. He is a skinny gangly youth of about 25 (perhaps younger) in very high platform shoes who plays loud fuzz box guitar with accompaniment — drums, base and another guitar. He had that look that young thin guys have — very slight, skinny shoulders, willowy. He was a little bit awkward and emotional about the event — obviously, it touched an emotional spot for him. He played all Doug Sahm songs and had Alvin Crow (who we saw years ago at the Broken Spoke) come up and play a few tunes with them. Alvin plays violin and added a nice element to their overly harsh set.

The expert dancers were long gone, but people did start dancing when Kate and a very drunk girl (38yrs) got up to shake their body. Kate's drunken girlfriend seemed to be wasted on 'ludes or something similar and Kate was awfully concerned about her — Q: "Are you ok? Do you need a ride home?" She responded with a sly smile: "I'm fine, I'm 38 years, you know." Kate, also not entirely sober and thinking that the woman was mistakenly under the impression that Kate was trying to pick her up (there was a group of lesbians in the bar), said "Well, I'm married" — the drunk girl just smirked at her. It was quite strange. She was quite strange. And, as noted, Kate was quite drunk. The drunk girl (not Kate) told us she didn't get out that often and was there to have a good time. We sensed that she's part of the ever present lesbian scene in Austin and probably in good hands — well, presumably a lesbian could take her home and take advantage of her just as easily as a guy. As our relationship continued, it appeared that she was really out to raise hell. She got it into her head that it would be fun to play with Reg's camera and grabbed it away from him and wouldn't give it back. Kate, concerned about Reg's camera and knowing that Reg would be reluctant to be physically aggressive with a woman (whereas, Kate had no such qualms), wrenched her grip open and took her to the dance floor whereupon the woman walked away from Kate and glared at her but came back again to dance later. She had a real destructive edge about her — hard to say whether self or other destructive, but it was there.

We met a couple about our age who were tourists like us. They were from Seattle and staying down at Canyon Lake up river from Gruene (where we had stayed several years ago with Jack & Doreta and Cindy — our trip from Phoenix to San Antonio). Canyon Lake is where you "get high on the lake then float down the river, get covered up in chiggers and drink ten tubs of beer". They were about our age but he looked like a motorcycle/Montana hippie type long grey beard, big man (he looked like Utah Phillips). She looked like Emma Goldman or Grandma Moses. She told us she was a nurse. Reg was a little intimidated by them but Kate struck up a conversation. Turns out they're real music groupies and he could tell us about every song Doug Sahm had ever written, why Doug and Augie moved to LA (Texas drug laws being what they were) and every band anyone had ever served with. Really an encyclopedic fellow in the model of Alison's Bruce in Winnipeg. They often go on music holidays/adventures.

The reason they were down this way, apart from the music, is that he's taken up long distance running and is going to do his third marathon at San Antonio on Sunday. He called it a race of the "Clydesdales" — the big farm horses of years ago. He certainly is not your typical runner but having recently turned 50 he's been on a health kick and has reduced his weight from over 300 pounds down to 230. Nevertheless, the picture of a huge work horse clopping down the road would be an apt metaphor for his style of running. He was also a terrible dancer as Kate determined later on that evening.

The drunk girl and friends, in sort of hippy-dippy attire, danced to "She's About a Mover". One attractive young girl with long blond hair danced by herself on the floor. The Seattle Clydesdale thought it was perfect saying "She's the one the song was written about!!!"

We tried to persuade them to drive out to Luckenbach on Saturday (he had it mixed up with Terlingua which is down around Big Bend on the Rio Grande River) but he had to prepare for the race that day and could not be persuaded. We looked for them on Saturday but they weren't at Luckenbach.

We walked home down Congress (perhaps four blocks). Walking the same route the next night, Reg said, "Remember this from last night?" but Kate couldn't remember; must have been the Margaritas. She did remember being asked by someone for a match and wondering if she was going to have to use some Wen Do to protect Reg if this guy was using asking for a light as a ruse to attack us and steal our money. Turns out he just wanted a match and we had one!

Thursday, Nov. 7

Kate drove Reg to the IBM compound in the north end of the city. The I-35 was moving very slowly at Town Lake but we made our way up to IBM in a half hour or so. Reg spent the day being a guinea pig in "usability tests" while Kate spent the day touristing.

Kate rented a "goomer" bike (It's a one speed with coaster brakes, wide tires, and long high round handlebars. She felt like the kid in ET— like those bikes little kids used to have; the ones with banana seats. Fortunately, this one had a normal seat.) at the hotel and cycled 2 hours on the bike trails along Town Lake. The trails have water fountains and even a place where you can help yourself to free Gatorade. Lots of joggers and hikers and the statue of Stevie Ray Vaughan — another one of Austin's great musicians that we never listen to. The bike rental fee was $5 an hour which was supposed to be billed to the room but the really nice doorman didn't charge her for the bike that day or the next. She did give him a $5 tip and Reg suspects the door man has a thing for older women (Ha ha!).

Kate biked down to Barton Springs but the pool was closed for cleaning. So much for that idea — the sacred waters will have to wait another day.

After cycling, Kate typed these stories and ate some veggies for two hours in the sun by the hotel pool. While there, she was reaching into the pool to test how cold the water was (frigid) when her glasses fell in. She started to go in to retrieve her glasses but thought "this is too cold even for a Canadian who has swum in French Bay" and moved the glasses over to the stairs with the life guard's hook. The pool had a hot tub in the corner but we never did get to use it.

Kate picked up Reg at IBM and we found ourselves in a major traffic jam on Lamar on the way back into the city centre . We had avoided I-35 as it was awfully slow in the morning with a traffic jam. We found out later from Marie (of Len/IBM and Marie his wife,  see Friday, Nov. 8) that there had been a big bung-up on the MoPac (that's another North/South route but further to the West named after the Missouri-Pacific railway line) and all the radio stations were advising people to take alternate routes... like Lamar; hence the traffic jam.

We took a cab up Congress to the vicinity of the Continental club and had dinner at El Sol y La Luna (one of the top 50 Hispanic bars in America) where there was some live music – a Tejano/Mexicano group. The cabbie told us that the reason that all the people were milling around was that the stores were open late that night (we found out later from the tour books that this happens the first Thursday of each month and is called "First Thursdays") — he didn't mention that the stores were giving out free drinks and we didn't find out this until after dinner when we went browsing. There was quite a line up inside the restaurant, and we had to wait for our seats (probably less than 5 minutes). The young woman showing people to their seats was very droll but efficient. You wait in line right beside the band who have a tiny little bit of space right by the front door. We ended up on the patio away from the music (damn!). But the patio was covered and had temporary screens up to keep out the wind. There were propane heaters to cut the chill but it wasn't really required. Kate had a spinach and mushroom enchilada which was wonderful and beans and rice that were also excellent. The tortilla tasted like really fresh pasta (we went back for lunch on Sunday and the tortilla served on the side was still just as tender).

The place was packed; probably because it was the first Thursday of the month and all the trendy nearby stores were open to 10:00pm and giving away wine and beer. After dinner, we shopped and then later found a spot at a table at Jo's Coffee bar in time to catch the last couple of songs by the band (the Two Dollar Pistols) and to hold up a flaming lighter to help save the animals. On later years when we were around for First Thursdays they had stopped giving away wine and beer. Although they were still doing that during our 2009 visit when Alison was with us.

Reg took pictures of excellent/weird staff in various stores. One store was called "Paint it Black" and had a red dress that someone had started to paint black in the window. It had Wendy Gardner's Scary Stories animals — Vicious French Bulldog and the Siamese Twins. Kate bought a book of dogs looking expressive for Siobhan for Christmas and liked it so much that she went back the next day and bought one for Sandi. There were some really neat cowboy boots (used) at around $400 that we passed up. Actually these days you don't see many Texans in cowboy boots anymore. Reg's Canadian Tire walking boots fit right in.

Friday, Nov. 8

Reg was subjected to more product testing in the IBM lab. It's sort of a Law & Order kind of interview room. They're behind a one-way mirror and are filming what's going on with the subject (Reg). There's usually about two or three back there including a stenographer who's entering their comments and Reg's.

At lunch, Reg met up with some extra folks. Len and a colleague wanted to talk about using Reg's security site as a public domain site for some of their work. They're after some distance from IBM, and Reg gave some suggestions — like talk to User/Blue.

While Reg was at work, Kate went shopping. En route to pick Reg up the day before, Kate had noticed some really neat looking gift stores on Lamar just north of Waterloo records, so she headed there after dropping Reg off. The stores were quite interesting but also a little pricey and she only bought some greeting cards. She also visited the stores on S. Congress between El Sol y La Luna and the Magnolia which had looked really interesting as you drove by them, but they ended up being mostly antique stores.

The day was beautiful and warm and it was time to broach the 68 degree sacred waters of Barton Springs. Kate again got a bike from the same young fellow at the hotel bell desk, and when she offered to sign the paper regarding the charges as she had done the day before he said no, she could just take the bike (and, in fact, never posted any charges on their bill). After a short ride to Barton Springs, she discovered not only was Barton Springs open, it's free until March! It's open 5am to 10pm daily — who goes swimming at 5am? It was a bit cold getting in but not as bad as expected and Kate swam about ¾ of a mile (it's 1/8 of a mile from the shallow end to the end where the water spills out, so six lengths added up to about ¾ mile). There was a really fat guy who was talking with one of several elderly women. There was also a chubby woman with hair (in dreadnaughts) down to her feet, and a young good-looking guy who grabbed Kate from behind to prevent her from bumping into him. There were a few other young athletic types but mostly it was pretty empty — fewer people than when we went later on Saturday and Sunday.

Kate swam for so long that she had to hustle to make it to IBM to get Reg by 4:30. On the way, she drove by the UT university area on Guadalupe and the tie-dyes were still there in the same place! There wasn't time to find a parking spot and shop before getting Reg, and so Reg & Kate returned there before going to dinner at Len and Marie's (Len being the guy from IBM that Reg had befriended at the UserBlue conference in Long Beach and partly the reason why Reg is a hero to the IBM Austin folks). The area is still much the same — many of the same stores. The kids are getting younger, of course. We bought matching tie-dyes (2 for $25) and then Reg shopped at Tower records while Kate did the gift shops — the university bookstore had two of Wendy Gardner's scary stories books.

We stop for a pee/beer break at a hole in the wall bar/restaurant called Texadelphia just down the street from the real "Hole in the Wall" famous for Janis Joplin, Emily Kaitz and many others. Reg takes the $1 special (a Bud) while Kate goes whole hog for a fancy dancey Texas beer at $3. There's two girls serving; one on the cash and one in the small kitchen. Both seem to be about 18 years old; students at UT no doubt. They're dressed in the fashion of the day: hip huggers, bare bellies (with tattoos and/or piercing) and short tops. While an interesting fashion statement, I can't help but wonder how safe that is when you're working at a hot grill. Would the bacon burgers splatter hot grease on your tummy? Wouldn't a full cook's apron be prudent?

Dinner with Len and Marie

Len is a colleague Reg met at the IBM/Unix conference USERblue we attended in Long Beach February 2001. We've kept in touch a bit over the years as Len's work is AIX/Unix security — he's one reason Reg was invited to IBM/Austin. Anyways, Reg had sent a note to Len saying he was coming to Austin and asking if Len would like to get together. Reg and Len met for lunch while Reg was at at IBM, and Len also invited us to his home for dinner Friday night at 7:00pm. We had a lengthy back and forth by E-mail on this issue: we didn't want to impose, they wanted to show us some Texas cooking, Kate's a vegetarian, etc. A menu was agreed to — Marie (Len's wife) would make burritos (chicken and veggie-beans) while we would bring some good Ontario wine to show them a bit of Ontario.

Len and Marie live way way out in Northwest Austin. They're almost outside Austin (but 20 minutes to downtown when 135 isn't jammed — as it often is). Their neighborhood would count as a suburb of Austin but it was wooded and quite hilly — almost the hill country. The homes seem to be around 25 years old with established lawns, hedges and such. We navigated there without too much trouble using our city map. Streets, like every other suburb, are intentionally hard to navigate to keep out drive through traffic. It was dark by 7:00pm and of course Texas being Texas, the streets are really poorly lighted (we first noticed this in Dallas). We found their street but then couldn't find any house numbers. Odd, then we noticed that the house numbers are painted on the curb at the driveway.

Their home is a two storey with an attached two car garage. The driveway has four cars including one still under wraps. We discover that along with being a Unix geek Len is also a car nut — a small bone of contention with Marie. Some of these cars are "collectible". Len likes the idea of being able to change the oil, do a tune-up and other hands-on guy kind of things. When Reg presses him a bit, it turns out that it's more the idea of doing it that's appealing — he really is a hands-on guy, a kind of car-nut. Guys like to collect things: cars and tools go together. The garage is storage with no room left for cars. In this part of the world, houses don't have basements for a guy to store his collectibles. Houses are built on a concrete slab. Len and Marie have been in this house for years. Their children are grown and off at college.

Len had hopes we'd sit out back but he forgot the season and how it gets dark very early. But Len and Reg do a quick tour of the back yard and patio. Len has rigged a Rube-Goldberg lawn watering system to keep the back yard green. It's really a waste of time and water as the soil is very shallow on a limestone base. About all you can grow is a quack-grass lawn — it's green yes but it would be better off as a natural green space with cactus and other native vegetation. Trying to make Texas into New England green is foolish indeed. Nevertheless that's how it's done in the 'burbs.

Len was telling us how he recently installed screen windows on the south side of the house — not to keep out the flies (there aren't many winged beasties) but to keep out the sun. They have interior shutters as well so the house is fairly dark, unlike our style which is to have no window treatments so we get as much sun as possible. But Texas summers are god awful hot. You wouldn't survive at all without air conditioning. Any natural advantages on top of that like shade from trees, shades on windows, etc. is essential.

Marie is a pleasant woman who worked at IBM as well. She was a C programmer but was laid off a few years ago. IBM, like everyone else, has had it tough of late. They've definitely been cutting back. She's a pretty woman (or once was a very good looking young woman) but not from Texas — Len likes to rib her about being a "Yank".

We tell them about the Chris Wall song where what he likes about Texas is having plenty of guns and something to shoot (and when we run out of things to shoot we can shoot Yankies). For folks who have lived in Texas a very long time, they're not very aware of Texas music. We bring in some of the CD's we've bought and although they've heard the theme to "Austin City Limits" they're not familiar with songs like "You ask me what I like about Texas" and it's mention of "the sacred waters of Barton Springs" or singers like Steve Earle, Guy Clark and Townes Van Zandt — we promise to make them a best of Texas music CD when we get home. They're a little surprised that we've been here so many times and while they've heard of Luckenbach, they've never been there. This makes some sense, though they're very family orientated, Christian and more than a little temperance.

We start with some of the red wine ($20 Ontario Baco Noir that we brought) and chat in the living room. Their home is country kitsch with lots of knick-knacks. Len has a computer terminal hooked up on the coffee table in the living room so he can work and watch football games at the same time (they have season's tickets for games at UT and are going to a game on Saturday when UT plays Nebraska — apparently that's quite a big deal with some long standing rivalry about who is the toughest). We find it odd that anyone would like football at all, let alone a couple — Marie likes it as well. We'd rather go swimming at Barton Springs and then go get drunk under the live oaks at Luckenbach. We don't imagine that Len and Marie get drunk at the football games, but we're confident somebody does — don't they have tail-gate parties at football games?

As a footnote to the Nebraska opponents — Len and Marie told us that Nebraskans are just nuts about college football. E.g., fans think nothing about flying from Nebraska to Texas to support their team. Well, it happens that Kate works with a guy who is currently at Penn State but was a Prof at Nebraska, along with his wife who is from there. After returning from Austin, Kate told her friend about this comment and he confirmed that it was not only accurate but actually underestimated Nebraskan fandom of college football.

Turns out the Len and Marie have been to our neck of the woods lots of times. They have a chum in Waterloo and have been to Stratford. They have a good idea of where we come from and have had Ontario wines before. They give us some Texas chocolates before we leave, and although Marie expresses the wish that we would meet their Waterloo friends and share the chocolates with them (which we might have done if we lived in Waterloo), Reg, instead, just drops them off at Len and Marie's friends one day after work.

Len and Marie are Christians of some sort — we hold hands to say Grace. Kate finds that a little odd but then Reg's family always says a prayer before dinner and we even invite them to do so at our home.

Marie has prepared burritos for dinner. A great wack of them — enough to feed an army! We have brought several bottles of really nice wine. The four of us drink the first one while socializing in the living room. Then while in the kitchen as Marie pulls the food out of the oven, she says to Kate, "Would you like sweet tea with dinner?" Kate thinks, "How did we get into this? sweet tea? sweet tea? I might even consider unsweetened ice tea which is a great tradition I wish would come to Canada — but sweet tea — I'd rather slit my wrists!" and replies, "No, I'd like to drink wine with dinner." "What about Reg?" "He'll want wine." But the question has it's effect and we temper our drinking so as not to be our usual drunken sods — plus Reg is driving. We didn't even finish the second bottle! Their attitude towards drinking is quite different from ours — getting wasted would be a sin. But they're very curious about our attitudes, especially since they know Kate's an alcohol researcher. Their children are now grown (or nearly so) but you're not supposed to have access to alcohol until you're 21 years old. Hence the recent scandals when Dubya's daughters were caught drinking underage with phony ids. They're curious about the lax laws in Ontario (where you can drink at 19) and have been struggling with what to do with their children. "If you had kids, would you serve them alcohol if they were underage?" they ask us. This is one of the easiest moral dilemmas that we have encountered! We say, "Well, yes, but you know that in Canada it is not illegal for children to drink with their parents" — a concession to the Europeans who have migrated to Canada. We also tell them about all the wonderful high-achiever university students that we know who have phony id so they can get into bars. It's just the norm in Canada. And in Europe there doesn't seem to be a notion of age of majority at all. [Ps. Kate tells me that Europe is changing and an age of majority is now pretty common.]

They've had some server training (RBS) recently required by Texas Law (which is good) for a High school football fundraiser event that served beer. The substance of the training seemed to be a) check ids and b) count the drinks. We have a pleasant evening talking round the kitchen table and are home at a decent hour. An early evening.

Saturday, Nov. 9

Our first stop is a quick swim in Barton Springs. This is Kate's second time and Reg's first. The water is "refreshing" to say the least — it's supposed to be a constant 68F. Although on a hot summer day it might warm up to 71F.

We make a quick stop on the way out of town to load up on limes and vodka (Caipirinha's don't you know) and head west to the hill country through Johnson City to Luckenbach Texas — home of Willie, Waylon and the boys. The town where everybody's somebody. And the beer flows like water.

Luckenbach

All sorts of signs to direct you there (quite a contrast from the first time we went with Cindy and struggled to find the place). There are other differences to go along with the signs — very few pickers but greyhound busloads of tourists! One similarity — a lot of bikers — in fact, more than ever. And being bikers, they are sporting politically correct comments, such as the guy with "If you can read this, the bitch fell off " on the back of his T-shirt. One of the biker chick's has "Loser magnet" on the front of her T-shirt. Most of the bikers are old — 30s and up. They can afford the fancy hardware they're riding on.

We arrived at about noon and left about 6pm after the sun went down but before the concert (not a dance, a concert) at the Luckenbach dance hall.

Instead of many groups of pickers (as in years past), there was only one guy pickin' and grinnin' when we arrived. Others joined him over the course of the day, and Kate positioned herself right in front where she could be part of all music going on. Reg rambled, taking pictures and checking in with Kate every once in a while.

The Pickers:

Danny is an aging regular, who obligingly plays Luckenbach, Texas (with Willie and Waylon and the boys) whenever requested... several times that day... and only a very few (read none) were actual requests. He's obviously very well thought off by many of the singers/pickers we met that day. We believe he's paid to be there to get the ball rolling. The singer/writer Kate insulted about his singing (see later in this story) was really impressed that Danny had sunk several thousands of dollars into his recordings as he was not comfortable/willing to do the same for his music. Danny's flogging some of his CDs that are burned on a computer (everyone is a record executive these days) and had a wonderful children's song about "I love my dad" that he got kids involved in. Danny was at pains to point out to people that the pickers would gladly accept drinks. We obliged, and bought several rounds.

There was Meg from Johnson City who befriended us. A pretty young thing of perhaps 35yrs or so. Slim, dark curly hair, who could play and would sing. The kind of person who would sing at a party and make the party fun. She sang with kids and they did ABC and Old McDonald and even Silent Night.

There was this middle-aged (a euphemism for our age) Jewish couple (not Kinky Friedman, and Kate's not convinced they were Jewish at all). The guy played Danny's guitar and his wife/compadre sang "Angel from Montgomery" and another very funny song about doing it with younger men — she sat on the lap of this young fellow and made him turn several shades of red. They were great fun but left early in the day.

There was this older attractive woman, say 60ish with blonde hair, who picked up Danny, and a guy who Kate told he wasn't a good singer (she meant to say that he had great lyrics but ending up offending by saying his lyrics were better than his singing). There was a pretty young college girl up from Corpus Christi with her new husband to see the concert that night — she was a little embarrassed because people kind of made a fuss over her singing, and she considered her husband to be the real musician of the family. She did Pat Green songs. There was a guy who played bass (I think) and wanted to play with the good looking young thing.

Kate was a little tipsy by the end of the day — having spent the afternoon drinking vodka with lime. But she made a lot of best friends. There were a lot of chuckles as she staggered off to take pictures.

Meg sang "Leaving on a Jet Plane" and Kate had a tear or two for Doreta — Reg came back to this and couldn't figure out what the hell had happened. Meg was supposed to be home to make dinner for her boyfriend but didn't want to go because she was having too much fun, pickin' and singin'. She lives nearby in Johnson City but this was her first time to Luckenbach. The day was probably a little special because apparently it was the first weekend that it hadn't rained for quite a while — so it wasn't just us Canadians who were soaking up the sun like geckos. Anyway, Meg kept phoning home to see if her boyfriend was there and as long as he wasn't, she was staying. She wasn't as drunk as Kate but probably was pretty drunk and probably shouldn't have been driving. She was still there when we left. Kate seems to remember some talk about keeping in touch but we didn't seem to come away with her address — although we did come away with two business cards from the guy that Kate told couldn't sing.

In the general store they have T-shirts and bumper stickers — they accept MasterCard and serve hard drinks and coolers as well as beer (boy, have things changed!). We bought new T-shirts as ours have faded from the last visit. Out front there are bikes, bikes, and more bikes — why do the guys with the tiniest dicks make the most noise? There was another one of those bikes with the V8 car engine like the one we saw at Gruene. 

In the bar there were pictures of the flood of July 2002 which washed away some of the buildings. But Luckenbach survives and continues on. You can, if you want, plunk down some money to preserve Luckenbach and have your name carved in a brick for their walk of fame.

In the Loo, by the creek — "Willie Peed here" and "Old Guys Rock!" (a slogan that's near and dear to Reg's hear). License plates —Texas, Lone Star State (Subject to Change). 

Instead of Big Daddy serving beans and white bread, there's a concession selling your regular deep fried food — fries, onion rings, Jalapeno poppers (which we had and they weren't at all spicy — kind of went with the busloads of tourists).

Danny said it was 1500 miles to Halifax and when Kate told him it was more like 2500 (he might have been right). He said he was starting from Mississippi and didn't do that song very often (about the wife kicking him out — Danny: "Hey that's my suitcase"; Wife: "Ya, pack it."). He also told a few jokes, including the one about the man entering the drugstore: "Do you have Viagra? Yes. Can you get it over the counter? Only if I take two."

Artz, Continental Club, Flypnotics

Although Reg was adamant that we go to Artz because it is the best barbecue in the world, after eating there he decided that he actually didn't like Texas barbecue — although Kate really liked her shrimp and the slaw. Erik Moll, whom we had seen years earlier on 6th (and have his tape from that visit), was playing with two others. We were the last served as it was near closing. After the band packed up, the restaurant played a Leonard Cohen CD — "First we take Manhattan".

We walked round the corner to the Continental Club, but it was packed with a $12 cover (quite a lot) that would get you in and there were no places to sit. So we pass and flag a cab to Flypnotics on Barton Springs Rd. (up river near Barton Springs) where we find that Caroline Henning has cancelled. Reg was interested in seeing her as he took a poster of the gig from the Magnolia Café earlier that week. Since Henning wasn't there, the first show was going to run two sets. The singer was a chanteuse in the Celine Dion mold with even more makeup and sparkles. Her band included a base, a guitar and a synthesizer managed by an Apple portable — this was not what we were expecting. Fortunately a break was called after the second tune and we beat an exit. We had been to Flypnotics some years earlier to see Anna Egge — a gay folk singer who played all by herself on guitar — that's what we were expecting.

We're unable to find a cab and walk back to our hotel along Barton Springs Rd. It's a lovely night for a walk and we pass the trailer park where Kate thinks we ought to holiday. A little too compact for Reg's taste — Yes, but it's so close to the sacred waters of Barton Springs!

Sunday, November 10, 2002

Our last day. Kate is a little fragile but handles all of the packing so we can get away to Barton Springs for one last swim. She's sorry that she hadn't gone on Wednesday and will go every day she can the next time we visit. We're there by about 9:30-10:00 and swim for an hour or so. The water is still a little cool but it's always cool. It's a bit of a struggle to steal yourself as you get in but once you're in, it's great. There are quite a few swimmers, much more than any other day, and many of them are in wet suits. Several are obviously joggers who are taking a swim as one part of their exercise ritual. Kate says she'll buy her own wet suit, especially the gloves, when we retire to the trailer park down the street, walking distance from the pool. Will she take up jogging or marathon runs as well?

There's a sculpture garden nearby: Umlauf Sculpture Garden & Museum. We see a picture from the garden at the airport and it looks like it would be a good place to visit. It has interesting art — we ought to have gone.... next time. Over the years we've visited several times.

Our next stop is Waterloo Records — down the street and across the river on Lamar. When we were there earlier the staff had told Kate that the store would be open at 11:00 and staff are there by 10:00, so 11:00 is a good time (as people start arriving then). We arrive at about 10:40 and there's nobody in the parking lot. The sign on the door says they open at 12:00 on Sunday but we can see people inside and when Reg tests the door, it opens so we enter. A man sees us enter and says "I'm sorry, we're not open yet but you can stay and browse around but the cash won't be open until 11:00." They are so nice. They then lock the door to keep out other would-be gate crashers. We buy Pat Green (of the pretty young thing who sang like an angel in Luckenbach) and Austin Lounge Lizards (because of a Leonard Cohen song). We then buy veggie snacks at the whole earth place cross the street (about $80 worth) because the Continental Airline has more leg room but no food and Kate has the munchies.

We check out and go for one last lunch at "El Sol y La Luna" on S. Congress across the road from the Continental. Chorizo con Heuvos for Reg (with El Sol beer). Heuvos Rancheros for Kate (no beer thank you very much). The food is still great.

It's quite easy to get to the airport when you know where it is (follow Riverside and the airport signs). We drop off the car easily right at the airport and have no trouble getting through security.

It was an uneventful flight to Chicago where we have a long stop over and Kate has a nap on the floor.

This blog page was added during the COVID-19 lockdown of January of 2022 from a diary we kept at the time. "Len and Marie" are not real names.

Recife - PostScript

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Kate lists things we like about Brazil/Recife and/or the conference:

• Except for the people who supposedly will rob, kidnap and/or kill you (and except for the hotel staff who are trying to get us to leave) most people are really nice and kind.
• Things are really cheap — largely due to the devaluation of the Brazilian Real. If we had come three years ago, when the Real was on par with the US Dollar, it would have been very expensive. On this visit $1US gives you $3R and we figure that $1CA is about $2R.
• We like our friend Bia, from Brazil, who now lives in Seattle.
• Caipirinhas of course. On the beach, in the bar, where ever!
• The softest sand ever on the beach
• The Balé Folk dancers at opening and closing of the conference
• Hanging around with Linda and Robin
• Pineapple at breakfast
• Interesting Brazilians at the conference
• The staff member at the hotel who showed us how to get to the roof
• Indian head dresses
• And Reg adds, string bikinis on swarthy young beauties.

And some things we hate about Brazil/Recife and/or the conference

• The abject poverty and entrenched class system
• Which means it is a very difficult city to navigate
• And we are pestered incessantly by people trying to sell things to us or beg from us
• The days are very short being so close to the equator
• The beach is owned by the guys with their chairs and umbrellas.
• Too much wind and waves at the beach
• Conference speakers and audience went on and on — a timetable means nothing
• No conference information about what was going on around the conference. E.g., where to dine, what to see, and what to avoid.
• With no public lavatories people pee on the beach, or on the street, where ever they have to
• Sexist cultural values
• Bia, who lives in Seattle, can't ask her daughter to do any work around the house. She's afraid the daughter will tell her father or grandmother in Brazil and they'll call it "child abuse". I.e., house work should be done by the lower class maid.

A very late postscript: Several months after the conference we're at home, back in Canada, when we receive a phone call from our Bank of Montreal Mastercard. "Did you just buy a bike in Recife, Brazil". "Well yes, we bought a couple of bikes back in August when we were there but that cleared a long time ago". "So you didn't just buy a $1,500 bike?" "No we did not." Our card had been skimmed! So the card is cancelled, the purchase is declined, we get a new card and all is good again.

At first we thought it was the bike shop that was responsible and we were very disappointed. They had been so nice to us and had offered to defer payments over time (which we declined). Some months later, at another conference, we bumped into a Swiss colleague, who had been with us in Recife. She was also a skimmed. Worse yet, they had put through a much bigger charge, it was on her Diners Club card, they hadn't detected the fraud up front (as Mastercard had for us), and they ended up with their bank account overdrawn, cheques bouncing, a real mess for them. Our arm chair detective work leads us to believe it was the staff at the front desk of the hotel who skimmed the cards. There were times (check in/check out) when a staff member asked for our cards and took them back to some room behind the desk.

While we didn't get robbed on the street, we were robbed at the hotel. Fortunately, no guns were involved.

In December of 2012 we returned to Brazil. Kate had a conference in Rio de Janeiro and afterwards we did an Amazon River tour out of Manaus. That was fun.

These notes are from a densely detailed travel log we kept at the time. Kate recently discovered it in August of 2026 and I have transcribed with minor edits, corrections and redactions so as to not embarrass the living ....

Recife Sept 1

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Sunday, September 1. Homeward bound

Linda Sobell phones to tell us that she didn't make her connections in Soa Paulo but that the exit fee is buried in the ticket already. We were trying to figure out how this exit fee was handled and did we need the cash to pay it at the airport. We'd never heard of a country were you have an "exit free". A visa to get in, sure. But an exit fee as well?

She also asked if we could buy a replacement CD for the one she had bought and lost on the flight from Recife to Sao Paulo. We tried, however, the CD store never opened, so we couldn't get that done.

Because of her experience, we decided to leave for the Recife airport early, in the hopes of getting an earlier flight to Sao Paulo. Which we ended up doing. But first a few things before we go.

Before we went for our final bike ride we had packed up a lot of our gear in our hotel room and had left out $50R for the chambermaid. We encountered her on the way out and thought we told her that, as we were leaving later that day, she should come back later to clean. But no, when we came back from our bike ride, she and another woman were cleaning our room. We said "Oh no, you shouldn't have. We're leaving later today!" and they said in sign language, Portuguese and broken English, "Yes, but you might just as well have a clean room." We did notice that the $50R was gone. And, as they was leaving, she held it up and said "For us?" and we said "Yes indeed! Bien sur!".

After going on that final bike ride to the nearby market and south end of the beach, we handed our bikes over to Macelo and David (the fellows running their chairs, umbrellas and drinks service on the beach across from the hotel). It was quite the scene. Macelo's nephew/son (the young good looking guy about 17 or 18) was quite panicky to make sure that we gave one bike to them and that we would sit with them on their chairs, under their umbrellas, on their part of the beach. We had only promised a bike to David but Macelo was a good guy as well.

David's cart was closest to the walkway so Reg gave him his bike first. You may recall we had promised David the bike when he fixed it for us. Macelo's boy looked at Kate with some anxiety. Then we took Kate's bike to Macelo, who was extremely busy serving drinks, setting up chairs and umbrellas, catering to his beach clients — it was the peak of the day. We gave him the sales slip for the bikes and he nodded and said "documentation". They all wanted to give us a drink but we were hot from the bike ride and a bit overwhelmed by the hub-bub we had created on the beach. 

One guy in particular, kept after us in a really obnoxious and in your face kind of way, "Mama, Papa — give me a bike too. What's for me? I have no shoes! etc. etc." Despite his obnoxiousness pleading, Reg ended up giving him his "car tire" sandals that we had bought earlier at the market.

We had created such a hub-bub that, after our showers, we decided to have our final caipirinhas in the lobby bar where they were much cheaper than on the beach and the ice is less risky! After a couple we got up our nerve to go down and say goodbye to Macelo and David and give the idiot Reg's sandals (the ones made of old car tires). Macelo and his young man made us a drink but were very busy so we said our goodbyes and took our drinks away with us. We took the risk this time of having them with ice, which is far nicer. 

We shopped a bit at the Recife airport — Linda said they had good stores. On the short flight from Recife to Sao Paulo, because we were flying standby, we didn't get seats together. But Reg changed seats with the guy beside Kate and we got to meet and chat with Gabriella on Kate's other side. She was from Uruguay but works in Buenos Aires and had been on holidays in Brazil. She's the director of a music school. It turns out she's twice divorced and has a daughter of 18 years, who she must have had when she was only 2 years old. She was sort of the whole earth, crystal and healing type. We exchange email addresses. She wrote notes about her trip and highlights up in yellow. 

At Sao Paulo we make our flight switch without much hassle and have the middle three seats to Newark where we dash to make our flight home to Toronto. Our luggage got stuck up with others and we are back home by 11:00 the next morning arriving in Toronto early in the morning (our car was there). It's been a long day of travel, it's nap time and so the story ends.

We're sitting outside in St Mary's as we write this. It is so quiet here and, by comparison, so noisy in Recife. We like the quiet life here far more. ... although the weather is awfully nice in Recife.

These notes are from a densely detailed travel log we kept at the time. Kate recently discovered it in August of 2026 and I have transcribed with minor edits, corrections and redactions so as to not embarrass the living .....

Recife Aug 31

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Saturday, August 31.  A quiet day on the beach after the conference.

We are awake, rise late and are more than a little fragile from the end of conference party the night before. Kate's been awake since 6:00 a.m., but is not ready to face the world.

Reg gets up and has a breakfast with Linda Sobell who lacks nothing in the energy area — she's such a live wire, she twitches! And, she's also willing to try some of the weirder breakfast things on offer — they fry up some white gruel and put cheese on it. It looks like an omelet but has no eggs.

We sat on the beach with Linda after breakfast and we coasted on a couple of beers. It's too early to try the caipirinhas! Linda had nothing to drink: her stomach was hurting. Then Linda and Kate went CD shopping at the nearby market — Linda bought four CD's and Kate bought a local one she thought Reg would like. At the shop they'll play the CD's for you and Linda had them play about 10 to 12 different ones before she made her selections. 

When Linda left for the airport we thought we should get some lunch. Our hotel and the beach don't appeal to us so we hopped a taxi for the Rua Bom Jesus area in the old city (from our previous visits) but, as we were driving there, we noticed a bunch of normal looking restaurants with out door patios around the nearby Pina area just north of us so had the cab drop us off there.

Kate had a glass of soup, a "calderone". It's a shrimp flavored Portugese concoction and had little eggs and an olive in it. It came with potato fries and four hard boiled eggs — Reg ate one. He had deep fried chicken wings and fries. A nice lunch and a little different from what we've been having. Just what we wanted. We're really sick of things buried in a sauce and the MN casserole type dishes. 

It was quite pleasant at this restaurant except for the very hard uncomfortable chairs — partly it was pleasant because an armed guard kept away the beggars and the ubiquitous street vendors selling things you don't need or want. That was a nice change.

We walked around the area and found a fabulous supermarket where Reg discovered they were selling a litre of the Pitu Pinga for only $1.15R! Reg was positively drooling to try to take this home with us! A case would be a great deal, and he would be happy pay the duty! However, Kate convinced him not to. We bought some gourmet coffee for Elaine instead. Damn!

An aside: Years later, on our Amazon River adventures (see December 2012 in this blog), we had stocked up on Pinga for the week long cruise. We bought a bottle at a supermarket in Manaus for perhaps $4US. Our friends from Norway were convinced to buy the same at a bar and they were charged $40US!

We used the McDonald's to go to the biffy (that's Graham for "toilet") and then walked along the beach back toward Boa Viagem. It was near the end of the day, about 3:30, most people were gone from the beach and most of the lawn chairs and umbrellas were packed up along with the little ocean side portable bars. Some young fit guys were playing soccer on the beach with really small nets. This might explain why the Brazilians do so well at the World Cup. Other boys were surfing along the wet shore sand on pieces of flat plywood — it looked like fun and very neat. 

All in all it was the least aversive time and the most normal experience we've had since we got here. But then why spend $2,000 to come to a place where the most pleasant day resembles an afternoon at Grand Bend? Except, of course, restaurants at Grand Bend don't have armed guards. 

Back in our room, the hotel seems to want us to leave. They had started changing our electronic door lock on Friday, after the conference. We've had to go at least three times to the front desk because our key no longer works. We do have a reservation until tomorrow but apparently they would like us gone. Could it be the bikes? Fatima's lecture on keeping us safe? Taking our room glasses to the beach? Or what? 

Finally, on Saturday night at around 6:00 p.m., we were lying in bed having some nuts and raisins for dinner and resting up for our travels home the next day. The phone rang and this fellow from the front desk says, "Mrs. Graham, we'd like to know: when are you leaving the hotel?" He made it sound like sooner would be better.

I guess we've worn out our welcome. Oh well, such is life in the fast lane.

These notes are from a densely detailed travel log we kept at the time. Kate recently discovered it in August of 2026 and I have transcribed with minor edits, corrections and redactions so as to not embarrass the living ....

Recife Aug 30

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Friday, August 30. The last day of the conference, a there's a big party at Mile Marker Zero for us!

We've arranged to take Linda Sobell to the nearby supermarket where we buy coffee and more booze to take home. We've bought a barrel aged Pitu Pinga for a song. Gosh it's cheap. But the next day we find it even cheaper at a supermarket in Pina.

We're walking along the street to/from the market and a couple in a car yell at us to watch the camera — yeah, yeah. Yet again.

Kate and I bike down the beach to a glass place she had noticed from one of our cab rides. It's open, but they have to unlock the door to let us in. This is all too common, there's a security guard on the door to make sure they're not robbed. We changed $100US to $300R at an money exchange around the corner and it's likewise locked and barred. There's a doorman, an armed security guard, inside to let us in. I suppose others he would refuse entry. The are two windows inside on the wall for the money exchange. They are darkened, you can't see anything through them, until the clerk behind presses a switch of some sort to make the windows suddenly transparent. There's a tiny slot below the window to shove your money over and for them to return the exchange back. This experience speaks volumes about the country.

Kate doesn't buy any glass at the glass store. We return to the hotel and Kate is off to the conference. Reg walks up the busy street by the supermarket and passes lots of stores including the Boa Viagem Mercado. Vendors include shoe repair, appliance repair, and the usual fruits, vegetable and meat stands you would expect at a "market". The meats are really sad affairs — they are dried out from too much time hanging there without refrigeration. In the parking lot Reg notices live crabs strung up and wriggling on a post. They're teeny tiny, not much meat there.

Reg has given up on carrying his 35mm Canon SLR camera and relies instead on a pocket sized APS Canon ELPH  we've brought with us. It's more discrete and avoids the issue of people approaching us to caution we naive tourists about the snatch and grab pirates. Nevertheless, he gets some of the same even with this camera! We're obviously tourists and obvious targets .. but we've been safe so far! Wandering around in daylight is much safer than at night.

An aside: we are robbed later, when we're home, with a fountain pen not a gun. See the PostScript on this trip.

It rains off and on all day. From the hotel roof top you have that experience where you can look out and see it's sunny here but pouring rain over there. The roof top is easy access — a staff member shows us that you can go there via the fire exit/stair well. It's a little known secret. We offer him a tip for this insider's secret but he declines.

We met Linda after the conference with an intention of going down to the beach together. But it's raining and we end up parking ourselves at the hotel lobby bar for more caipirinhas. A colleague, Raquel from Uruguay, joins us. For some reason she's really keen about Kate's work (the Safer Bars project) but doesn't know Linda Sobell.

An aside: "The "Sobell drinking papers" refer to the ground breaking and highly controversial early 1970s research by psychologists Mark and Linda Sobell. Their studies challenged the long-held addiction treatment dogma that total abstinence was the only successful outcome for people dependent on alcohol."  Google AI from Society for the Study of Addictions.

With Raquel's rough English and Linda's rough Spanish we determine that the conference has some very interesting under currents that we weren't aware of: 

• that "alcohol" is just the latest boon doggle,
• that the "Jimmy Swaggart" drug advisor has done nothing beyond a needle exchange,
• that AIDS/HIV is the real issue,
• and, that underlying everything, is an exploitation of the poor. 

Raquel tells us the poor are seen as just a resource, they don't count as real "people" (there are nasty class structures here and throughout South America). Illiteracy is a big issue. Raquel is almost in tears by times and very frustrated that the same folks are getting more money under different "programs" and doing nothing. Nothing changes.

The extreme poverty in Uruguay has happened because of a recent economic collapse. She tells us there are men begging on the street in shame who only recently were employed in good white collar jobs.

It's a bleak sad conversation the girls are having this night around the bar.

But there's a dance party down at Mile Marker Zero arranged for the conference. We ride a bus and have to call Linda in her room so she can join us — she had got to working on her computer. 

That night drinks flowed like water — "we started out on whisky but soon hit the harder stuff". There's another Folk dance/Bale troupe with a band. Tons of costume changes and really high energy. They would have lost pounds and pounds in sweat. They do their thing and then engage all of the audience in some line dances. It was great fun.

There were some actors, unbeknown to us, who did a drunk scene in the audience — it ended up with a player taking away the car keys of the drunk. This scene scared the shit out of us — we thought it was a real event. We didn't know until after that it was all actors!

Kate did some dancing even though her knees are bad. Raquel, from Uruguay, was a passionate dancing fool. Robin is the worst dancer in the world. Although Bill, also from Australia, runs a close second.

Robin, Oya (Nigeria), Linda, Kate and Reg share a cab back to the hotel and then a bottle of wine on the sand of the sea shore for an hour or so. Robin asked everyone to tell the story about how they got started in the Alcohol field. There are some interesting stories there, but none recorded here.

We're in bed at 2:00am. A long day, the sun will be up in a few hours.

Edit/correct — There was a "Ayedokun Olanrewaju" from Nigeria at the conference, is that who we have as Oya?

These notes are from a densely detailed travel log we kept at the time. Kate recently discovered it in August of 2026 and I have transcribed with minor edits, corrections and redactions so as to not embarrass the living ....