The MUNI 33 bus during a going away passenger appreciation celebration

NextMuni.com says my bus arrives in 18 minutes and the next one comes in 32 minutes. Next I check it’s 9 minutes and 23. Then the ETA jumps up to 12/18…then 13/16…and finally 4/4. By the time I get to my stop, both buses are pulling in together. Just another typical morning waiting for the 33 in Upper Haight.

I hop on the first one, frustrated that yet again it would have been faster to drive. The bus driver apologizes, saying the two buses that were supposed to be in front of hers aren’t running today. Then she offers me my choice of wrapped candy from a dish by the fare machine and for the first time I actually look around at bus 2442 driven by Tammy.

It’s like a Fourth of July party inside Tammy’s bus. There are red white and blue streamers, balloons, coils that say “happy,” banners and party lanterns hanging from the railings. Large handwritten posters adorn the windows thanking her riders and spouting truths such as “Until MUNI realizes that without our passengers there’s no MUNI!” and pretty much everyone has a smile on their face.

The sign in front of the MUNI 33 bus

As I sit in the bus watching new passengers board, I witness a MUNI miracle: a sea of frowns turn into big grins as people enter and see what awaits them. I overhear nearly every newcomer commenting on the scene to either Tammy or their fellow straphangers. “How cool is this,” they ponder aloud. “Is this for Mother’s day?” “Is someone retiring?” “I can’t believe I got candy.” Even the woman on her cell phone discussing how her doctor just found a lump in her breast seemed upbeat, enjoying her Tootsie-Roll lollipop with her lips curled up from ear to ear.

Pretty much everyone who boarded asked Tammy a quick question about the decorations. “I just want to show appreciation for my passengers,” was her standard response. Those who pressed further often heard “If not for the passengers, drivers and managers have no job.” Tammy also was more than happy to advise passengers frustrated by the delay. “I strongly encourage you to call MUNI and complain,” was advice that seemed to be doled out at every other stop.

Tammy, the driver of the MUNI 33

The bus thinned out just before I got to my stop and I had the chance to briefly chat with Tammy and ask her what inspired her display of gratitude. “It’s for all of you. I drive this bus every morning and have the most amazing relationships with my passengers.” She next revealed that her last day is this Thursday, but when I wished her an amazing retirement she responded, “nope, not retiring, just moving to the 24 line.”

So to all you lucky folks who take the 24, please greet Tammy with a smile and enjoy the ride, because she is one of the rare gems in the MUNI system who makes the inevitable delays bearable.

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

I originally wrote this post for the San Francisco Web site, Muni Diaries on May 4, 2010. Since submitting it, the story has been picked up by the San Francisco Chronical and CBS5 Web sites. In a time when MUNI is facing service cuts and fare hikes, it seems to have become a rare feel-good story about the beleaguered San Francisco public transportation system.

• SF Gate (San Francisco Chronical) coverage – if you click this one, be sure to read through all the fascinating comments about MUNI and other people’s experiences with it, both good and bad

• CBS5 coverage
• My original article, as posted at Muni Diaries

Partying it up at 7-Eleven

Unlike the rest of Southeast Asia where one can buy an alcoholic drink and consume it walking down the street, Hong Kong has a no open container law. This made things difficult when Carrie, Karen, Ben, Michelle and I just wanted to grab a quick beer from 7-Eleven and drink it as we wandered around looking for a club. However, as we looked around the store we saw that there were around a dozen other locals, Indians and Africans hanging out and drinking…it was the thing to do I guess.

Finding drinking in 7-Eleven highly amusing, we grabbed a few beers of our own and joined the fun. Within an hour of socalizing, our group had added a pair Australians and a Hong Kong resident from Nigeria named James. Based on our requests, it quickly became James’ mission to take us to a club and show us around his town. After taking us to a few that were completely closed or dead, we found ourselves going downstairs to what seemed like a good place. However, we quickly looked around and realized that it was, in fact, a brothel. The quote of the night came from one of the Aussie guys who said, “um, we definitely need to leave here. Immediately.”

A night on the town in Kowloon with our new friends that we picked up while partying at the local 7-Eleven

Finally, we found ourselves in a real and nice club in Kowloon and proceeded to dance and hang out until nearly 4am. Surrounded by locals, they all took turns trying to show off their dance moves for us. A classic evening in the world of travel.

On a different note, the club also gave me a disturbing insight into the racial divide in Hong Kong. James and I were the first to arrive and he quickly went over to talk to the bouncer and get us in for free. At first, the bouncer wanted nothing to do with James and basically shooed him away like a peasant trying to enter a palace. However, as soon as the rest of the group of Westerners came around the corner the scene changed. All of a sudden the bouncer was shaking James’ hand and leading us in with his arm around James’ shoulder. Racism at its finest.

Fishing in what seems to be an open sewer in Bangkok

After our visit to the floating market, we headed back to Bangkok and to the apartment of Tom, a local who we found through Couchsurfing. As he works from home, we quickly dropped our bags off at his sweet apartment and headed out for a day of price checking and shopping at the MBK mall. Though it is called a mall, it is really a massive indoor market with more vendor stalls than actual shops and bargain prices. Needless to say, we only left because we ran out of time.

Upon returning to Tom’s place that night, we promptly headed out to check out a local market to have a delicious meal. The poor guy had been waiting for us for hours, as no taxi would use their meter to take us home (they just wanted preset and sky-high flat rates) and we had to hop on the subway, which got stuck in between stations for 20 minutes.

Dinner was great and Tom turned me on to a new version of the traditional Thai soup that I have had countless times over the months. I guess all along they could have put sweet and sour sauce in it…I just never knew to ask! Our evening concluded over a few beers back at Tom’s house where we chatted for a few hours before hitting the hay. Tom was a great host and a wonderful final encounter with Couchsurfing…for this trip at least.

Escalators at the Paragon Mall in Bangkok

The next day we woke up early and headed over to Khan San Road, which is backpacker central in Bangkok. Basically two long streets filled with bars, guesthouses, clubs, 7-Elevens and thousands of tourists, it is the first stop for most people in Thailand and a hub of activity. We found the cheapest guesthouse possible, locked our stuff up and hopped in a cab for the Chatuchak Weekend Market.

The Weekend Market was actually our first stop in Bangkok when we arrived back in April. After a few hours there we realized that we wanted to return at the end of the trip, buy an extra suitcase and go hog-wild shopping for clothes, souvenirs and other fun things at dirt cheap prices. Return we did, as we spent the entire day wandering around shopping until, before we knew it, the stalls were closing. Still, our shopping spree was not done, so we returned to the MBK mall once again before heading back to Khan San Road.

Walking around Khan San Road at night is a very unique experience. There were food vendors every five feet, drunk Westerners stumbling around, beggars, lady boys and people selling everything from teeshirts to lighters, hats and drugs. This one blind guy was led up and down the street all night singing into a microphone hanging around his neck for tips. I saw woman shoving a disabled boy with sores all over him into a stroller and trying to make him look as pathetic as possible for donations. Massage parlous and strip clubs were handing out fliers, as were the clubs and bars.

Tall buildings and shacks share the Bangkok Skyline

Really, Khan San Road is a paradise for all types of vices or sin. It is party central and a completely unique environment, hence why I wanted to experience it at least once and spend the night wandering around and taking it all in. However, it is not Bangkok. It is not Thailand. It is not anything other than an fake little fantasy world. That said, we did have a blast people watching. We also once again met up with Claire for one last evening on the town. Our destination was The Club (original name, huh?) where we joined a room full of mostly Western tourists and bad techno music and danced until the wee hours of the morning.

As our flight the next day was not until 4:30pm, we headed back to MBK for one final trip through the aisles. Needless to say, our bargaining power was lessened by the fact that we had all our bags with us and were clearly headed to the airport.

All in all, we spent 16 hours over three days shopping…which is funny considering how much I hate shopping. By the time we got to the airport to head to Hong Kong we had around 30lbs of new items. Additionally, we never made it to the Royal Palace or to a Thai boxing match, both of which were big reasons for our return to Thailand. Oh well, at least we got a ton of cool stuff!

A rainbow over the restaurant and bar-filled streets of Vang Vieng

I’ll admit it; Vang Vieng sucked us in. We came to the city for a lazy inner tube ride down the river, as advertised in our guide book, and figured we’d be there for a day or two max. However, upon arrival we were greeted by streets filled with rows of bars and restaurants: most of which have TVs going 24/7 playing Friends, Family Guy or The Simpsons. Catering entirely to western tourists, these places have low tables, comfortable mattresses and pillows to recline on. The food is average, but after the sixth episode of Friends in a row it doesn’t seem to matter.

Instead of a quick stop, we wound up spending four days relaxing, drifting from restaurant to restaurant, taking in marathon TV sessions while waiting out monsoon rains, surfing the Web and sleeping in. We were also reunited with Claire, who we had been in Malaysia and the Full Moon Party with, as well as her friend Ellen. It was with these two that we set forth on the adventure known as tubing in Vang Vieng.

Anything but a lazy ride down the river, tubing would better be described as spring break for late teens and early 20s kids from Australia and Europe. The goal is to visit a series of bars, all very close to each other, while swinging off of high platforms into the water and partying with fellow travelers. In fact, a tube is not needed at all. A tuk tuk drops tubers off at a row of three bars connected to the mainland. After that there are dozens of other bars, all accessible by water. Were bars not involved, the total tubing time would be at most 30 minutes. In reality though, those who rent tubes spent about five minutes total in them. Knowing this, we opted to swim.

One of the swings used to drop into the river

Each of the first three bars has a rope swing with some sort of rollers attached that tubers line up to use. The process is simple: climb up, hold on and jump off. Some allow you to hold on indefinitely, swinging back and forth until you are ready to let go and fall into the water. Others are just a straight line and, if you haven’t let go before the rollers hit the stopping point, your entire body is catapulted forward. While all swings can be done solo, a few of them allow two participants to go at once. Carrie and I tried this once but didn’t make it too far before both falling into the water.

After finishing up at the first three locations, tubers can finally toss their rings into the water to float for less than a minute to the next bar. As we had been told that the tubes were pointless, we jumped into the water and swam. Things got a little scary for a minute for me when the river split around a little rocky island. A mix of the strong current and my lack of strong swimming skills pulled me to the far away side while Carrie was safely at the shore of the next bar. I clamored for the rocks of the island and finally, grabbing onto branches dirt, was able to pull myself out of the water. Barefoot, I hobbled across the island and jumped back in before the guys on the shore tossed out a soda bottle on a rope to pull me in. Not my favorite part of the day.

The local bus stop in Vang Viang

Safely back on land, the main activity of the fourth stop was two mud water pits where everyone spent hours wrestling, jumping in and basically acting like big kids. This was my favorite spot of the day and we spent so much time there that by the time we swam to the fifth place it was dark and time to take a tuk tuk home. After my troubles with the water in the day, a night time swim did not interest me at all.

While we thoroughly enjoyed our day of “tubing,” one day was more than enough. The same can not be said for many other people there who were on their fourth, fifth, sixtieth or even hundredth day of tubing in a row. It’s almost like a mini-cult, and repeat tubers have their consecutive day number proudly written in Sharpie on their arm.

I hate to say it, but Carrie and I found ourselves wondering how much longer we could even do things like this without being dubbed “the old people in the corner.” Most tubers were in their late teens and low 20s. True, there there were plenty of other folks on the other side of the age spectrum but we were definitely outnumbered.

Monsoon rains were a daily occurrence, like this one I filmed while watching Friends and keeping dry

The limestone crags of Phang Nga Bay, Thailand, by sunset

Carrie and I hate the tourist scene. Plain and simple. So, upon arriving in Patong, the tourist mecca of Phuket, we quickly logged onto Couchsurfing to find a local to give us the real scoop on the town, the party scene and the best boat tours. After exchanging a few emails and a phone call, we met up with Tut (actual name has been changed to not get him fired by accident): an expatriate living and working in Patong.

Everything seemed normal at first: introductions were exchanged and small talk followed. However, as soon as we brought up the subject of tours Tut reached into his fannie pack and pulled out a brochure. The pitch: eat a free breakfast on the beach, attended a 90 minute presentation at a luxury hotel, say no thanks, get a voucher for a free dinner or boat tour.

Fish on a stick for sale in Patong...not the gourmet meal we got as a prize

Intrigued, our next stop with Tut was a tour booking stall where he helped us sort through our options before making plans to meet up again later for a night on the town. By the time we met back up, Carrie and I had decided on our tours, neither of which were available as the free one from Tut, and chosen the gourmet dinner as our prize. However, a night on the town was no longer in the cards as our host was too tired. He gave us some info and told us to wait for a car to pick us up the next morning in front of a ritzy hotel. We had to lie and say it was ours, as opposed to the cheapo one we were really in.

After our experience at the Overstay, this encounter with Tut really frustrated us. Did he ever intend to show us around? Does he get commission off of the tours we booked? Everything also seemed to go against the principals of Couchsurfing: it’s not supposed to be used to make money! Still wanted the free dinner so the next morning we hopped in the car and headed to what we thought was a luxury hotel.

The full implications of what we agreed to quickly became clear when we got out of the car at a condo community and met Doug, an obese 50-something Englishman with a mole on his face and beady eyes who made inappropriate comments. We were promptly whisked off to a barely-air conditioned room nearly a mile from the beach for a gross breakfast and the beginnings of his sales pitch. The product? Timeshares!

Our luxary yacht for our second boat tour from Phuket...like I have any idea how much it would cost if we owned one of these!

Never having attended a timeshare presentation before, Carrie and I were fascinated and kept asking questions and imagining the possibilities. A week vacation in a luxury hotel for only $150? None of the blackout dates and rules of a normal timeshare company? Half price airfare? Only a $200 annual fee? As frequent travelers, how could we resist!

Finally, after nearly two hours of conversation the other shoe dropped: a mere $16,500 initiation fee was required that very day. No time to think. Even waiting an hour would up the price to $24,500. We laughed to ourselves and said we had to think about it…much to the irritation of Doug’s boss. However, Doug was very nice and risked his job by giving us his cell phone number and telling us if we got back to him by the end of the day with a yes he could smooth it over with his boss, who owed him a big favor. What a nice guy!

These are the types of local Thai eateries that we try to dine at to keep costs down...and the type we had to eat at instead of having a romantic dinner

After receiving the voucher for our free dinner, we jumped back into the car to return to Patong to meet the bus for our first boat tour. Of course, we were late…but more on that later. The epilogue to the timeshare saga came two nights later when we tried to redeem our dinner voucher and hit a snag: no one in Patong had ever heard of the restaurant. We walked around, asked tons of people, called Tut but only got voicemail and went even went to Tut’s office in hopes it would be open at 9pm. It wasn’t.

As we continued to search a downpour began and we finally resigned to eating a bland dinner on the street under umbrellas instead of the romantic one we had envisioned. Convinced that Tut and the time share company had screwed us over, we called him one more time and were met with tons of apologies and an instant response. It turned out the receptionist who gave us the voucher thought we were staying in a different town: hence the restaurant mix up. Tut quickly fixed the problem and told us to go have our dinner and meet up later for our nightlife tour.

Already full from earlier, we instead met up with Tut, used the entire value of the voucher on a small pizza and some drinks at an Italian restaurant and headed out to Bangla road to party. The rest of the night was spent dancing our feet off at five different clubs, all of which he knew the bouncers of and got us into for free. We were out until nearly 4am, but spent most of our time at Hollywood Disco making friends with everyone around us. So despite a rocky start we ashamedly admit that we were completely wrong about Tut and and wound up having one of our most fun and memorable nights of the trip so far.

Us with Amit at Suraj Kund on our first night in Delhi

As I briefly mentioned in my last postings, we have discovered couchsurfing, which is an Internet site much like a dating site but it puts you in touch with people with a couch you can crash on for a night or two all over the world. After an average first experience in Europe, Carrie and I gave it another go on our first night in Delhi and arranged to crash on Amit Ghandi’s couch. This turned out to be the best decision ever, as we wound up spending the next four nights making a great new friend and seeing a side of Delhi that we never would have staying in a hostel.

It all began on Christmas Eve day, when we arrived in Amit’s beautiful house in south Delhi He took us to, as he called it, the best place in the city to see the sunset. Next he took us to a delicious outdoor grill by his house for our first taste of authentic Indian food…and authentic Indian spice. Upon returning to his house, he and his friend Shago decided to throw us a little Christmas Eve party. We began by decorating his money tree with homemade ornaments (paper and crayons all the way) and, by the time the party ended at 4am, more than 25 people had come through the door to party.

The traditional Indian breakfast we had on Christmas morning

On Christmas day itself, after sleeping off our jetlag, we had a traditional Indian breakfast (I still have no idea what anything is called…we just point and say, “meat or vegetable”), went to a park, visited a Sufi temple (The Dargah of Sufi Hazrat Nizamuddin), drove around and saw the India Gate and PM’s palace lit up at night, had a gourmet Indian dinner and finally, got to bed early. The next few days were spent getting to know Delhi as Amit drove us to the Red Fort, Jama Masid Mosque, Humayun’s Tomb, Old Delhi and more…all the while showing us more delicious food and introducing us to Lassies, which are traditional yogurt drinks.

On our final night in Delhi, Amit’s cousin took a bunch of us to his house in the middle of a gated community where a bunch of us hung out, sipped beers, danced and talked under the stars on a beautiful grassy front lawn gated in from the dusty roads and fields around us. All in all, we could not have asked for a better way to start our trip. A million thanks to Amit, Shago, Quincy and everyone else who gave us memories for a lifetime.

The view of the New Year

When we arrived in Udaipur, we were told by our hotel owner that all NewYear’s Eve parties across the country had been canceled due to the terrorist attacks in Mumbai. After a few days in the city with no word of any parties, we began to think this just might be true. However, the morning of December 31, signs had popped up all around town advertising a huge party, which we of course attended. The event was in a small dirt-filled patch of land overlooking the main lake of the town with the beautiful Lake Palace and Jag Mandir lit up in the distance (each of them having their own parties for more than $200 per person).

Our party, on the other hand, cost a mere $5 per person and included a buffet, some fireworks (aka, ones bought on the street and lit off in front of us), a fire pit and dancing. As the clock approached midnight, fireworks began to go off from all parts of the town including ours and from boats in the middle of the lake, but not from the $200 per person parties (suckers!). However, there was never a countdown and we didn’t even realize it was 2009 until Carrie looked at her watch and it said 12:01:14. Ooops…HAPPY NEW YEAR!

A view of the late night, male dominated dance party

As the evening continued, the majority of the non Indians at the party began to trickle out as a whole new collection of drunken Indian men began to flood in, probably coming from their own parties that ended early. It wasn’t long before the dance floor was filled with just about all men, many of which were dancing with each other in an extremely provocatively (by Western standards) manor. In a society where homosexuality is not really permitted or acknowledged but it is common to see two men holding hands as a sign of friendship, it was very interesting to watch their interactions and ponder what, if any, the subtext of all this was.

Finally, at around 1:30, the music abruptly ended and we noticed the DJ being yelled at by three very angry military officers. They slammed down some form of book, pulled the plug from the music system and continued screaming at the party organizers. Needless to say, Carrie and I took this as our queue to head back to our hotel, lest we begin 2009 in an Indian jail for breaking some curfew that we did not know about. And come on, what better way to end a party and start a new year than with military intervention!

Click below for some videos of the New Year’s Eve celebration:

• The fireworks display
• The late-night dancing

The Stubnitz, a boat docked just outside Centraal Station that housed a giant party

The other highlight of our time in Amsterdam was a massive dance party on board a boat (the Stubnitz) docked on the other side of the river behind Centraal Station. While the event usually costs nearly $30 just to get in, it was the last one of the year so we all got in for free and danced the night away until nearly 6am. The ship itself was massive and divided into three different rooms, each with their own type of trancy/techno music ranging from more low key to what many termed the “hard core room.” Needless to say, we spent much of the night bouncing from room to room taking it all in. I managed to take a couple of pictures, so be sure to check them out.