One of my worst Culture Shocks hit me in the DPRK, where a busload of tourists from around the world sang “The Internationale.”
I’d never heard it before.
My “dining strategy” is to walk into alleyways (or hutongs, as they’re called here in Beijing) and sit down in the first place with people.
Inevitably, someone’s curiosity will get the better of them and they’ll machine-gun questions at me in an unfamiliar tongue. I then smile and point at what a fellow patron is enjoying.
This normally works fine.
Today I ordered an entire chicken, chopped up, and cooked in a hotpot.
Lama Temple
Caged Royalty.
It’s hard resisting making this yet-another Engrish travelogue.
紫禁城, no-longer brought to you by…
It’s time to admit I’ll never write about these…
It was night when I finally arrived to Podgorica.
The SIM card that the Vodafone representative in Istanbul promised would work in Serbia and Montenegro didn’t. So, I had been out of contact with Mira until one of the Grandmothers in the train loaned me her mobile. Not a smart idea for a random guy arriving in an unknown city.
Fortunately, ProMonte is on top of things and has Tourist SIMs for sale at every kiosk. I rang Mira in short order. She picked up (yay!), was with her boyfriend (yay!) and would pick me up in a half-hour or so (yay!).
I was totally unprepared for the grade of hospitality that I was about to be given.
