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I spent the weekend obsessing about hotels in southwest China. Normally I am drawn to the quaint. However, choosing quaint in a country where one cannot speak the language or read the signs can have its drawbacks. Damp beds and floors slippery from ubiquitous spitting are odious warnings from other travelers. I am not the sport I once was.
Since most computers in the US do not reproduce Chinese characters, one must also ask the hotel for a photo of the sign on the front of their building written in Chinese characters, in order to be able to direct the person who is transporting one from the airport to the proper facility. The translation problem also holds true in restaurants where one never quite knows what one is ordering. I was fortunate indeed to find an outdated takeout menu from Fen Wang House in one of my many piles that has Chinese characters in one column. I shall pack that and point.
The die was finally cast for Jim's Tibetan Hotel (scroll down for the flavor of the countryside), not much of an ethnic name, the owners are Dutch and Tibetan, but good reviews overall. I asked Jim's Dutch proprietress about the possibility of finding a little Thladiantha Palmatipartita for my friends at Soekershof, but she seemed quite put off by my question.
I think I will be glad to be from the political thicket for awhile. Bush is getting more grandiose -- yesterday he compared his struggles with the war on terror to those of George Washington today -- let's see, Harry Truman, FDR, Abe Lincoln-- who's next, need I ask??.
Please take care of this while I'm away by urging your state to introduce an impeachment resolution.
Photo note: Looking to the future