The lovely woman

At the train station ticket counter assures me that the Nairobi-Mombasa express now departs and arrives more or less on time (and vice versa).

I am now in possession of a ticket for the Lunatic Line.

I just have to make sure I make it to Mombasa on time for my departure.

200,000 ksh

(Or 2,000 USD) is the price of this photograph.

Atop the bridge that crosses the tracks halfway between the railway station and the museum, the lovely Veever and I were stopped by a cop (or possibly a security guard, I'm not quite sure), who advised us that, much to his regret, he was going to have to arrest us and take us to the station, where we would be fined 200,000 ksh and be tossed into a jail cell for the night.

When asked why, his answer included the taking of illegal photographs and something about being loud. Maybe. (I assume he meant me.)

Veever played it super cool. We understand. Our pics were illegal. Sorry. Guess you'll have to arrest us. So sorry. We didn't know. My apologies.

This innocent act forced him to articulate the bribe he was looking for (in this case lunch). V apologized for not being able to pay a bribe, as a UN employee. (This was not in my playbook, but I found it very compelling.)

In the end, no arrest was forthcoming. He didn't make us delete the putative contraband.

Enjoy the picture.


Safe and sound

In Nairobi about to sleep under a mosquito net.

(Malaria isn't a issue here but those pesky buggers sure are annoying.)

For Carp

Because I am an epic nerd

I am listening to Jacques Brel.

I like the airport. A lot. I suspect I will like Amsterdam. What a crazy idea this place is.

(Yes, Amsterdam. But also Le Plat Pays. This may not be Belgium, but it's an equally flat neighbour, so I'm counting it.)


The first question

On the FAQ page of the Louis Armstrong International Airport:

Q: Can I bring a king cake on board the aircraft with me?

A: Generally, the TSA allows passengers to carry king cakes and other baked goods on board the aircraft with them. Remember these items are subject to additional screening.

Oh, and all that shit

About no dancing till Wednesday?

Who did I think I was kidding?

I danced every night.


It's been too long

TBC keeping it so fucking real at Celebration Hall.

Note to self (and the world)

Though the Celebration Hall website says 9 and the wwoz website says 10, TBC actually goes on at 11.

And the pre-show dj music inside is loud. You know this, now you just have to remember it.

Lessons learned

Or two days late (and a dollar short?).

I always have a hard time finding Monday red beans and rice, because I don't know many neighbourhood restaurants.

I ate lunch in one today, Katie's in Mid-City, and go figure, their Monday special is red beans and fried chicken (which is a variation I can get behind).

But since it wasn't Monday, I had a poboy. The cochon de lait (suckling pig) with creole slaw. It was terrific. But attention aux francophiles. It is not pronounced "co-shon" but rather "coo-shawn." For next time you're ordering.

I did not

Bring the room together.



Either or

Me and my

Unphotogenic food.

This is the fried oyster and catfish poboy (aka the Half and Half, or at least one version of it) from Domilise's. 


The Brass A Holics

Thoigh less brass and more electric guitar than I'd like, put on one helluva show.

This is them bringing the house down with, wait, what, Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Yes, that's what I said.

What'd I say

About that 2-tuba minimum?


After a pizza and wine happy hour at Domenica, I wound up at the oyster and wine happy hour at Lüke.

Because how can you say no to these? (Plus, Casamento's is closed for the rest of my stay.)

Crustacean décor

Crustacean door knocker

After a healthy breakfast

I finished with these. God bless Cafe du Monde.

Even the defunct

Pay phones get done up right here.


All day all night

With the Hot 8 (or occasionally 12). #webrasshard.

I've gotten all of my official dancing out of the way until Wednesday. Thank god. I'm wiped out. (And grateful that I still had enough gas in the tank to get props from the band.)


Miss Linda's yakamein.

I like to enforce

A strict 2-tuba minimum policy.


The cute bartender at dba waved off my payment last night at a crowded, sweaty Rebirth show with a "I know you."


Blowout dinner

I went to August for my first meal in town, and every detail was superb. After a glass of amazing bubbly, I was offered an amuse of a brown butter custard topped with cauliflower mousse served in an eggshell.

Since this was a blowout,  I had two ridiculous apps: Louisiana stuffed blue crab with andouille and shrimp, served in a crabshell on a creamy bed with a crispy topping. Wow.

Then a single raviolo stuffed with what they call a yard egg, topped with something like a beurre blanc and then covered with mounds of winter truffle, shaved tableside. Wow.

I ended with the tripletail (like grouper) on tasso crab rice, topped with oysters and served drizzled with an oyster jus (they call it oyster au poivre). Maybe the highlight, but it's hard to say.

No pics, because at August, I didn't want to be that person.