My pal — and Malaysia traveling companion — Matt Gross recently published what I think is his finest New York Times Frugal Traveler column yet: a moving story about volunteering on an organic apple farm in Turkey. Don’t miss it. (Here’s the archive of his stories from the last two months of his round-the-world journey.)
Given the extent to which I’ve blabbered on about the World Cup over the past month, I’d be remiss if I didn’t come full circle and weigh in on the tournament now that Italy has triumphed. A few brief remarks:
1. US coach Bruce Arena has stepped down; he’ll now coach the New York Red Bulls (the asinine new name for what used to be called the MLS’s NY/NJ Metrostars). The New York Times World Cup blog has a great run-down of how the US national team can become more competitive post-Arena.
2. I liked the way Italy played, and they deserved to win. Contrary to their typical style, they played attractive, attacking football and they were a joy to watch, especially in their semifinal win against Germany. (Two knocks against the Azzurri, though: their draw was incredibly favorable, and they practically waltzed into the semis; and if you’re a cynic you’d say all the Italian players are corrupt anyway and were individually motivated to play well so they could find new teams after their Serie A club sides were relegated in a massive match-fixing scandal.)
3. The Zizou headbutt (recreated in the image above). Wow. What can you say? The incident encapsulates the drama of the World Cup — the tournament is about elation, anger, grief, recriminations, apologies. The tournament is truly life writ large on an international stage. Even the greats screw up sometimes.
4. If you’re an England supporter looking for a scapegoat after the team crashed out in the quarterfinals, I have one word for you: WAGs.
[Photo credit: Mads Boedker]
A and I just got back to Bangkok after four days at the beach in Railay. It was a magnificent trip.
(Yes, as I’ve noted before, my life is so trying here in Bangkok that I require frequent therapeutic trips to the coast in order to maintain my sanity.)
I will shut up and let the photos — all 49 of them — speak for themselves.
Here’re a few of my faves.
The view from our deck
The beach (a stone’s throw — no, toss) from our house
Our house
On the beach
A football tournament
One of the many karsts (towering limestone formations) that surround the beach
A friendly beach dog
And finally, if you’ll allow me to indulge my inner artiste, a pic of a drop of rain on a rusty chain.
In my most recent Gridskipper post, I examine Bangkok’s Pickle Factory. (It’s a pizza joint — get your minds outta the gutter.)
By the way, big congrats to my former editor at Gridskipper, Chris Mohney, who was recently promoted to managing editor of another Nick Denton property, the famed Manhattan media gossip blog Gawker. A hearty welcome to new Gridskipper editor Joshua David Stein.
Economist: “Come to sunny Colombia: Seriously, it’s almost safe.”
I never made it there during my year in Ecuador, though I really wanted to go. Everyone I’ve ever talked to who’s visited says it’s great. (Just stay away from the FARC-held regions.)
So. I’m back in Bangkok. SC was fun. DC was great. The wedding on Cape Cod was fantastic. And now I’m back home in the Kingdom. Wow — that was a whirlwind two weeks in Amurica, that much is certain.
A few pics for your viewing pleasure. A and I watched England beat Ecuador 1-0 last night. My heart wept for Ecuador. But England were the better team. You have to hand it to Becks. He may be a metrosexual (or would that be machosexual?) with frosted hair but when push comes to shove, he can step up and blast a free kick under circumstances that would make lesser men wilt.
Anyway, we took in the game with about 1,000 fellow Thai and English supporters; it was broadcast on a big screen at Central World Plaza in downtown Bangkok. Here’s a pic; not the greatest of images, but still.
A monsoon rain battered us during the last 20 minutes of the game and the whole place flooded, lending a suitably manic atmosphere to the end of a manic match (for those of us — and by that I mean, in sun total, me — rooting for Ecuador).
And, finally, apropos of nothing: one more pic of Sammie, my family’s new seven-month-old golden retriever puppy. Is he not a good looking fellow, even when he’s pouting?
Many, many congratulations to my good friends Miles and Susie, who I was delighted to see get hitched last weekend on Cape Cod — the reason I came home from Thailand on this trip. Here’re some pics.
The one and only Rob “Cockeyed” Cockham gives us “Things I Figured Out.” I particularly like this one:
Lungs aren’t bags.
Lungs are where oxygen is introduced into your bloodstream. They hold air, but they aren’t just empty pink sacks.
Lungs are packed full of a complex system of tunnels and pockets, so that every wisp of air is tantalizingly close to blood-engorged capillaries. This plaza of exchange isn’t a big, open stadium, it is a tight system of itty bitty tunnels that lead to 600 million tiny rooms. If you cut open a lung, it isn’t empty inside like a potato-chip sack, it is full of membranes, like a sponge.
And don’t miss the reader submissions. (Via)
Sorry for the late notice, but the details for you harDCore newley.com fans in the vicinity of our nation’s fine capital:
Where: Cafe Citron, on Connecticut Avenue just south of Dupont Circle (they have great mojitos, pictured above).
When: Tuesday night (the 20th), from 7 p.m.-ish.
Why: Because I’m in town and I’m leaving on Wednesday and you love me and I love you.
This delightful image of indigenous Ecuadorian women conducting a penalty shoot-out comes from Mike F., a long-time friend of newley.com. You’ve gotta love it. Click on the photo for a bigger version.