I’m taking a business trip to Atlanta between October 12th and October 15th. Pop me a note if you’re around and would maybe like to get together and connect.

I have started doing a lot of traveling and I think that shipping stuff around via UPS or FedEx is a much better idea than checking luggage, especially if it is domestic and since carriers are beginning to charge for the privilege of losing or misplacing your luggage. This is via AARP:

Now that airlines are charging for checked bags, you might want to consider shipping them ahead, using a ground service like FedEx or UPS. Most big airlines now charge up to $25 one-way to check a second bag, more for additional or overweight bags (see Sky High Luggage).

Sending a 26-inch, 40-pound suitcase from Manhattan to downtown Chicago costs about $25 on FedEx, $27 by UPS; from Manhattan to downtown Los Angeles, about $41 on FedEx, $49 by UPS. A bag weighing 55 pounds shipped from New York to Miami Beach is about $39 on FedEx, $43 by UPS. The same “heavy” bag could cost $50 to $100 on some airlines.

Shipped baggage is tracked and takes two to four business days to arrive, so you’ll need to pack in advance if you want your things to be there when you arrive. But, just think, you won’t have to drag bags around the airport, wait in lines to check them, hang around the carousel—or worry about lost luggage. To calculate your own shipping costs, visit FedEx.com and UPS.com.

Wow, I have to tell you, I am hardwired to my Lenovo ThinkPad x61 whenever I travel worldwide and domestically!  I just learned that upwards of 12,000 laptops are lost every bloody week by travelers!

That’s 600,000 machines a year, many containing sensitive information that companies need to account for.  According to a study by the Ponemon Institute and Dell, only 30 percent or so lost laptops are ever recovered. Los Angeles’ LAX airport reported having the most lost laptops out of any other airport, with 1,200 going missing every week. The most likely place for you to lose your computer is at security checkpoints and departure gates.

Via Gizmodo &  NewLaunches

This just in over the news wire, just in time for me to become a resident of Berlin, is news that the “open-skies agreement” will make it easier, cheaper, and simpler for me to share my time between Germany and the United States; Berlin and DC! Via NY Times

AIR travel to Europe is about to undergo a significant change, one that is likely to spell more choices and cheaper fares for travelers.

On March 30, the so-called open-skies agreement goes into effect, allowing airlines based in the United States and Europe to fly across the Atlantic between any two airports in each region. Before the pact, trans-Atlantic flights were governed by separate agreements between the United States and individual European nations. The pacts required airlines to take off or land in their native countries, and limited which airlines could serve certain airports.

For example, British Airways flights bound for the United States had to originate in Britain. And only two United States carriers were permitted to land at Heathrow Airport, near London: American and United.

When the open-skies agreement kicks in next week, those restrictions will be lifted, essentially letting the open market dictate all trans-Atlantic routes between the United States and Europe. For instance, Continental, Delta and Northwest will be able to serve Heathrow for the first time.

This year, San Francisco, Orlando and Washington all received their first scheduled nonstop flights to Dublin on Aer Lingus under a related transitionary arrangement. And Michael O’Leary, chief executive of Ryanair, the Irish no-frills carrier, has said he plans to start a new airline that will fly from secondary European markets like Liverpool or Birmingham to a half-dozen American cities like Baltimore or Providence, R.I., for a base fare as low as 10 euros, or about $16 at $1.59 to the euro.

“We don’t even begin to get a glimmer of the possibilities of open-market competition yet,” said Jerry Chandler, who writes Cheapflights.com’s travel blog and has been tracking the new open-skies flights. “There could be a lot of flourishing of routes in markets that currently don’t exist, especially from smaller U.S. cities to European hubs.”

The new pact is expected to be game-changing for Europe-bound travel. More routes are expected to open, and prices could fall thanks to the new competition. The agreement is also likely to encourage European carriers to compete more aggressively with one another across the Continent. Lufthansa, the German airline, for example, could set up a hub in Paris; or Air France could set up a hub in Frankfurt.

So far, though, most United States airlines are simply looking to open service to Heathrow — a strategic hub that offers connecting flights not just across Europe, but to the Middle East, Africa and Asia, too. Flights from the United States to Heathrow are expected to increase 31 percent, to 2,932 flights in July from 2,233 this month, according to OAG Back Aviation Solutions.

Northwest plans to add daily service later this year to Heathrow from Detroit, Minneapolis and Seattle. Beginning on March 29, the New York area will get four new flights a day to Heathrow: two from Continental out of Newark and two from Delta out of Kennedy Airport. Travelers in Atlanta will have a new direct flight to Heathrow aboard Delta (as opposed to connecting through Chicago or some other city), as will travelers out of Dallas-Forth Worth and Raleigh-Durham — both aboard American by March 30.

European carriers like KLM Royal Dutch Airlines are also getting into the act with new service between Dallas-Fort Worth and Heathrow. Likewise, Air France will begin operating a daily flight between Los Angeles and Heathrow on March 30.

For many travelers, a direct flight to Heathrow is long overdue. For instance, there are currently no nonstop flights between Dallas-Fort Worth and Heathrow, forcing many passengers to land at other London airports — like Gatwick or Luton — even if they have a connecting flight to catch in Heathrow. “It has been an absolute nightmare,” said Terry Denton, president of Main Street Travel, a Carlson Wagonlit agency in Forth Worth that specializes in missionary trips to Africa and elsewhere that usually require a connection through Heathrow.

Getting from Gatwick to Heathrow involves hauling luggage through passport control, taking a bus or cab across town and going through check-in and security anew — a process that could take three hours. The new routes will allow travelers to bypass that ordeal.

It’s not just Heathrow, however, that’s getting new service. British Airways is planning a subsidiary called OpenSkies that will skip London altogether, beginning with Brussels-New York and Paris-New York service as early as June. And some airlines, anticipating increased competition, are expanding their trans-Atlantic networks. Delta will begin flying from Kennedy Airport to Paris Orly on June 2, cutting out a three-hour-plus layover in Madrid, Nice or elsewhere.

KLM will start a daily flight between Dallas-Fort Worth and Amsterdam on March 30. Previously, Dallas passengers had to change planes in Memphis, New York or another city before arriving in Amsterdam. The new flight will cut at least two hours off the total flight time.

Besides saving time, the new competition should put pressure on airlines to reduce fares. A 2002 study by the Brattle Group, a consulting firm, estimated that an open-skies agreement between the United States and the European Union would generate a 10 percent increase in passenger traffic in formerly restricted markets, which could reduce fares 4 to 10 percent.

Routes to watch include Denver-Heathrow and Seattle-Heathrow, which were previously served by only one nonstop carrier: British Airways. But thanks to the open skies agreement, United will begin flying between Denver and Heathrow on March 30, with introductory fares starting at $570 round trip for travel before May 15. British Airways, by contrast, has been offering that same route for $1,461, according to an online search.

And Northwest Airlines will start flying between Seattle and Heathrow on June 1, with fares for $1,288, compared with $1,302 on British Airways, based on a recent online search.

But don’t expect a full-on fare war just yet. With the price of fuel so high, pricing on trans-Atlantic travel has been “pretty brutal,” said Rick Seaney, the chief executive of FareCompare.com. “Base prices are at an all-time low, but fuel surcharges are up.”

Patio Cafe on the River Spree, originally uploaded by Chris Abraham.

It is an ancient Berlin tradition to take your family and go for a day-long walk together in Sundays. I love this tradition. Well, last Sunday was exceptionally warm, clear, and lovely. I joined Frank and Claudia on their family walk-about with their two sons and we ended up at our favorite cafe, PATIO Berlin, for some sushi, soup, beer, and yakitori, etc. I love the Spree river. I love the city. I adore the Sunday tradition of going for a very gentle walk, all together as a family, along the Spree and through the parks and forests.

Walk with me to Berlin Hauptbahnhof to grab a couple things at the shops:

The View from my Seat in a US Airways flight to Frankfurt, originally uploaded by Chris Abraham.

I noticed this very odd world below me as I approached Frankfurt. Germany — and Europe — are gorgeous from above and eye to eye as well.

A View of My Wet Bike from a Fry Cafe, originally uploaded by Chris Abraham.

I noticed my bike box sitting out on the tarmac as I ended my lunch at this charming cafe so I took this documentation photo. She arrived in one piece so all is well. I need to put her together tomorrow.

Amtrak Acela First Class, originally uploaded by Chris Abraham.

Since my day trip to NYC included two nights at two porn hotels, I spoiled myself on the way back to DC and jumped the last seat in the Acela: first class. Lots of room, lots of attention, lots of service, and lots of stints of burning up the tracks at 175+ miles-per-hour. Kind of rockstar and something I will do all the time when the funds allow or I marry rich.

I have been spending lots of time these last few days trying to track my experiences in Berlin thus far using my Blackberry, connected to Twitter via Google Talk IM, because all my of my friends want me to journal my first experiences. So, you can read about my experience in reverse-chronological order below of stalk me real-time over at http://twitter.com/chrisabraham. Via Chris Abraham Online.

Mark and I took the S-Bahn and the U-Bahn over to the offices of my new immigration lawyer, Sabine, to take the first steps towards residency in Berlin. Afterwards, we reclaimed bikes from “Wulf” bike repair and then spent a couple hours at a cafe. I drank coffee and Wiener Schnitzel. Rode the bikes back. I want my single speed SOHO Delancey even more now since this is such a good city for bikes and biking. I have to get back to work now. I just wanted to try to do a better job of checking in. Via Chris Abraham Online.

I have a ticket to Berlin for the evening of November 1st. Looks like it’s a done deal.

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I am sitting next to Mr. David Gelles of Blog Vivant fame as he pilots my 530i up I-95 on our way towards moving him to the East Village for the summer. He is going to be a summer intern at Forbes, a pretty sweet gig. We’re listening to old Springsteen on route to the New Jersey Turn Pike. I am moblogging from my T40 laptop thanks to a T-Mobile data PC card via slowass GPRS. Mildly frustrating.

Its all the best and the worse of everything you could imagine from one of the top holiday, winter, and spring break destinations on the planet for Americans on the west coast and in the bread basket. (Originally posted Apr 01, 2003 – 09:13 PM)

We struggled up the coast from where we were holed-up in Las Hadas, avoiding the weather system that brought us into Manzanillo in the first place.

The wind was in our nose the entire time, as was the current. We had to motor. In fact, we enjoyed very fine seas, indeed, and so we kept to the port diesel and chugged along, eventually bringing down the main and reducing the fine vessel into a motor yacht.

Then, we ran out of fuel. 105 gallons of diesel, and the fuel consumption was much greater than we anticipated. I was pretty grunty as was Mark, and we suffered through 4 days of passage, 24/7. During the nights, I would take the helm from the early evening until around 1 and then Mark took nights until right before sunrise. He knew I love to see the sunrise and in general, days, hours, minutes become irrelevant. The 4 days of passage merged into one giant day of several suns.

We initially were going to motor to Isla Isabella, but we chose to head direct since time was our enemy as Roger waits in Los Angeles. No big deal, but I am eager to see Wendy, whether it’s in San Diego with a short passage to LA, or at baggage claim at Dulles. Too many days to be away from her, to be sure.

On the direct trip from Manzanillo to Cabo San Lucas was 450 miles. Along the way we came upon a field of what looked like German pickelhelm. Each helmet was a sea bird atop a sunning sea turtle. We came upon several of them, as they littered the sea like mines. Each shell supported a gull. The turtles must have been basking for a number of hours or days as each shell supported a generous helping of guano. When we approached one, the bird fled and we realized that the turtle was asleep. Like a bird, its head was tucked atop a fore fin.

I have photos of this amazing reptile, but was especially silly was that when basking, the turtle fills its shell with air, so when it awoke and then realized it had an 80-200mm Nikon lens pointing at it, making a racket, it tried to dive, but the air pocket help it bobbing at the surface like a rubber ducky.

Finally with a fat belch, the air escaped and this furtive, awkward, clumsy turtle submerged into the glassy indigo sea and again became graceful, masterful, elegant, efficient, and essential. The visibility pushed 100 feet and Mark and I watched the turtle return to the deep.

Later, I spotted a dorsal fin and recognized it as a dolphin. I rushed to the deck and we were cruising through a large pod or over 100 animals. Mark and I rushed to the tramp at the bow and I intentionally ignored my Nikons.

We held our entire torsos over the crossbeam and held our faces out as a half-dozen bottlenose rode our bow wake. I have never been so close to so many. They were turning their heads, they were surfacing and spraying us with their spouts, they were darting to and fro, weaving between each other. For about ten minutes, I was mesmerized by this dance. Although we were trying to squeak at them and attract their attention with our hands and calls of hello, none of the visitors looked up once at us, they just did their own thing around the boat. My face was covered with spray. After a while, their number decreased until there was only one. Suddenly, this last animal turned on its side, looked up at us, lifted its right dorsal in a salute (ask Mark), and peeled off.

I jumped up and ran to the stern. These wild bottlenose were jumping up and out of the water in twos, as if trained. Smaller youths were flopping about and we watched as the pod got further and further away from us, which always takes a while when you’re sailing. We were speeding away at 3.9 knots, less than 4 miles per hour.

Then we ran out of diesel and since Mark is an excellent captain, he vetoed my suggestion for using our jerry cans of diesel up in one go, so we raised the main sail and set sail, which tacked up way out of the way, but we made good time.

Until the main’s halyard broke. That was when I was off watch and asleep. When I awoke, I took the helm and the watch. A couple hours later, the second backup halyard snapped. These ropes are worthy of over three thousand pounds. One, maybe, but two in a day? So, we needed to use the Genoa line which runs only 3/4th of the way up the mast. We limped along.

Finally, after a double rainbow (I have pictures — Mark was asleep) and a thick fog with a vis of 25 yards, the sky cleared to the desert mountains of Baja. The southern tip. Only one more tack, and we turned on the diesel and we chugged into Cabo San Lucas.

We anchored the gleaming gorgeous Kinship II off of this silly little beach bar that spends its entire day baiting drunk college coeds into doing things that make me positive that if I have a daughter she is going into a convent! In fact, both Mark and I agree on that. And, as a check of my age and how old I have become, since when did Mark and I start equating 18-21-year-old women with being daughterly? So as we watched these spectacles, completely offended and aghast (we though this was a family restaurant!), we started becoming curmudgeonly, saying things like, “if my daughter did this, I really would not want to know,” or “Chris, if you thought your daughter were doing things like this, heaven help us.” I guess everybody was having loads of fun because one of the aside coming from the girl who passed by us with her friends was, “guys, we can’t let the alcohol level drop in our bodies or I won’t be able to go out tonight.” And for those of you who are counting, the official music artist of Spring Break 2003 is Eminem.

We’ve made it as far as Cabo San Lucas, the southernmost tip of Baja California, about 1000 miles from L.A. Slowly making our way north. We might even bail on getting the halyards and lines fixed as it requires either a monkey to shimmy up our treacherous 65-foot mast, or a crane. Neither of us is willing to try as we want to stay safe and sound, and there are some serious rolling tides that are keeping even the stable cat undulating.

Cabo is perfect for the rich American (I mean rich too, there is really not a lot of price difference for anything — Peoria, Ill for example is cheaper — but there is a lot of fun, luxury, refinement, and you don’t even need to convert your dosh — greenbacks are dandy here. I ate a burger at Johnny Rockets and there is a Burger King. Mark and I saw Chicago so that he could see Susan Misner, his ex, as Liz. We sat in EZ-Boys leather recliners and it was phat!

So, we have been enjoying it and trying hard to live cheap and it’s not easy. People are happy to pay out the wazoo — anything is cheaper than Napa, than LA, than Santa Cruz, than San Francisco!

Anyway, feel free to comment and I will continue the travelogue shortly!

We limped into this cheesy tourist trap which does first-world better than the United States. What we discovered was an amazing assortment of magic and beautiful, selfless people. (Originally posted Apr 01, 2003 – 09:15 PM)

Mark Harrison and I are sailing. The boat, Kinship II, is sailing from Charleston, SC. So is Mark, although I joined that trek in Acapulco on March One.

I did believe the trip was going to last a month, but now its March thirty-first and I am over one-thousand miles from Los Angles in Cabo San Lucas.

So in many ways, I have had a month-long birthday on this, my Jesus’ year as so many of you have called it. We have been spending every night at Cabo’s Harley Davidson cafe as its oftentimes empty and we can always control the DirectTV to listen to what’s going on at home and abroad. We keep track as best we can on the goings in Iraq on CNN Headline News, CNN International, Fox News, and BBC World. We like BBC World’s coverage the best.

One reason why we have been moving at such a snail’s pace is that each port we stop for requires us to check in. Checkin in in Cabo required us to go to the Port Captain’s office, check in — which is a cash-trasaction which cannot take place on-site, take a taxi to imigration, go to the bank, taxi to port authority, and then back to the Port Captain, where he will see our receipts for the check in and check out from the bank, and finally we will be able to have been officially there and legally entitle us to leave. Otherwise, we are told, there are boat spies to are willing and able to call up ahead and let the next ports know that we were cutting-corners and a thousand-dollar fee will be levied on us.

So, there’s a day. And although the hours are from 0900-1430, we made it through all of the hoops in just a day. Now, as we wait for our laundry, we are catching up here. Good news! My good college chum Mike had a baby named Dominic Wells Obraitis, and Mark and I had a very inexpensive typical Mexican lunch, and yesterday we an amazing day.

While Mark and I were sailing Kinship II from Las Hadas, Manzanillo, to Los Cabos, we snapped not just one main sail halyard but two. In weak on-the-nose 5 knot winds. We were screwed as we only had the Genoa line left up in the mast, intact. Yesterday morning, before we headed out to town to see if we would be able to find a circus monkey or an Orangutan to help us with out mast line, I noticed a half-dozen sea lions and insisted that we take the dink off course towards them. They were able to avoid us, so then we aimed at what we thought was another Jeaneau Lagoon 42 catamaran, but it was not, it was a Catana 431.

So, as Mark was at the helm of the outboard, we tacked towards the very attractive blonde in a bikini in a black steel-hulled sailboat called Wonk Wonk.

Thus began breakfast, lunch, beer, dinner, tea, and chocolate.

The blonde was Deborah, who is married to Sebastian. They are about our age, around 34. They have three children, Ben, 6, Alexandra, 5, and Dominic, 5.

They have been living together on this 35-foot monohull for over one-and-half-years and they are a gorgeous family. They spend all day reading, learning, and playing. They surf, knee board, skim board, kayak, sail, swim, and dive. They are bright, beautiful people. We found out that this knockout blonde’s husband was in fact a monkey and if he were cool with it, he could climb the 65-foot mast and fix both the halyards.

We boarded the boat and Deborah made up coffee until Seb and the kids returned. They hailed from Vancouver, BC. She was from Toranto. Over coffee we chatted and in a while we met uncle Bruce, who lives in an ajacent yellow 30-some-odd-foot sailboat. He gets up at 0400 every morning to fish, and by 0900, he is usually stocked.

We learned a lot about the bay and their life and lifestyle.

About the giant squid run and how giant squid seem assembled; we learned how all their coolers were filled with giant squid, the longest of which pushed five-feet, including the tentacles.

We learned about the couples and other families they meet, about their time on the beach, about the cool things they have seen, learned, tasted, caught, and ate. They were hungry for books; they were hungry for cool things.

We discovered that Seb loves catamarans and that he is in fact a monkey and would be willing to climp up our mast for laughs for free. So that was it, then.

We buzzed over to Kinship and spent the rest of the day working and playing, all seven of us. The three wee bairns, Mark, and I took the launch and Seb and Deb jumped on their sailboard, which they use as a kayak. It was a race we soundly won as Deb fell off halfway across.

I spent more time in the water yesterday that I have the entire time I have been on this trip. The water has been warmer recently and while I was swimming with the little ones, Captain Mark worked with Captain Seb figuring out the way the rigging should be. When it was time to rig, we all worked together. Seb kept the kinds in the cockpit during the climbing. He’s a pretty fine dad as well.

The halyard was fixed and then refixed by Seb. Every time something fell overboard, I enjoyed a good freedive and recovered everything and even made some coin in the process. The bottom is sandy and calm so everything that sets into the floor stays put and mostly uncovered by the tide or the surge, which is unusual in my experience with Hawaii.

The wee ones loved the boat and kept close attention to everything that went on. They saw our TV/Video and wanted to watch it. We needed to turn on the generator to make that happen, so they asked us innumerable questions about the Panda generator. The batteries were too week to start the generator, so we needed to fire up the diesels. It became an etire song and dance, to be sure. What cool kids. I hope I was that bright and curious when I was a little monkey shines.

I am going to be such an amazing dad!

The three of them are such an amazing gift to the world and I enjoyed tickling them and swimming with them and teaching them about the boat. I let them teach me how to do a canonball and a torpedo and amazed them with my ability to hold my breath while freediving. They amazed me as well! Wow. Suffice it to say that I am blown away by how well this little cramped family is doing. I donated to them my box set of Harry Potter books from the UK and we unloaded all of the food from the boat that we were either not using or knew we would not be able to finish before we arrived. Like nori and polenta.

Even Kiss-a-Moley (A cool plush GUND toy I scored on Valentine’s day that makes a kissing noise when you startle it. It also is shaped like a furry pink heart with legs, huge red satin lips, and googly eyes) made a cameo since Alex found her and rushed up to me and gave my cheek kisses with the canned smooches and the bright red lips. A few minutes later, Alex asked me if we could pretend that she was my girlfriend, mi novia. I looked in her bluegreen eyes and let he down gently, “baby girl, I already have a girlfriend back home.” She looked really sad, then ran up to Mark and let the entire world know, “Mahk, I like you bettuh!”

We made pasta putanesca for a large lunch and then Bruce came over and we all drank beer and talked story until it was time for dinner and we made Indian food. Mark is a devotee of Tasty Bite and these are basically haute cuisine Army MREs — meals ready-to-eat. They come in Indian and Thai and all one needs to do is grab a couple of these prefab meals, boil them in-bag for three minutes, and its taste-sensation-city. Add some basmati rice and it gets even better. And we had it all last night.

The children drifted off and we spent the rest of the time talking about travels, Mexico, sailing, kids, relationships. This morning, we dropped off all of the books and the food and we were force-fed fried fresh fish and bananas and avocado drizzled with Worcestershire sauce.

There are more stories to come, including the story about how Mark and I have become Cabo San Lucas socialites on our second day here. From high tea at Swiss Pastry directly to the biggest and most promoted fashion show of the season! Don’t ask how because Mark and I have a tendency to wanter into intrigue, excitement, comminity, and — I suppose — haute couture!

Stay tuned, y’all.

Wherever we go on this trip, Mark Harrison and I seem to be taken under wing. In this case, we were allowed to become Cabo San Lucas socialites for a day: High tea and fashion show; fashion show, and then an evening espresso. Top drawer! (Originally posted Apr 01, 2003 – 09:16 PM)

We had only been in Cabo San Lucas for one day and we were already on our way towards becoming Baja Socialites, Mark Harrison and me. We had gone tramping around because we have come to expect broadband internet cafes on the cheap and some of the places we were stopping near the Marina were bilking people out of one peso-per-minutes. We had been getting our internet at fifteen pesos-per-hour and we knew that we would benefit from leaving the main tourist traffic. Cabo is expensive, even by US standards. By Mexican standards, its highway robbery. And since we have become spoiled and have normalized on these pricing structures, we were willing to do a little bit of traveling. The cheap places are always full of gamers and local kids. And I am in such a place right now and Mark and I were on our way out of another cheap place when Mark spied a very attractive blonde who was walking from table to table in a cafe down the road. I recognized this from back in Hawaii. Every now and then, a throng of local models invade a cafe or a pastry place and entertain and sell locally-designed resort wear table-to-table. What I new as I walked towards the cafe is that this gorgeous woman was married, as one of the diners — a woman — had asked. Before we had made it through the 25 feet of tables and chairs, Mark — a real sucker for what he calls a generic blonde — chatted this beauty up. In seconds, we met the owner, a petite and exotic woman from Singapore, and were seated in a two-top. It was high tea and presumably we were there to enjoy the afternoon, the fashion show, finger sandwiches, pastries, and cup after cup of tea. The cafe is called The Swiss Pastry, and its very lovely and would stand its own in any urban center.

Rightfully, the blonde kept out of reach. In no time, we met one of her fellow models. Lovely Coral is a local girl who is half Mexican on her dad’s side and Canadian on her mother’s side. She stood there chatting with us for a good twenty minutes. She was preparing to attend university in Calgary, she would not model in Canada, she was originally from Acapulco, and her mum was there as well. Before we knew it, we were sitting with Coral, her mum Corey, and Coral’s friend Yasmin. Hours past, we burned through all of our delicate sandwiches and the sweets. I was insatiable, tea wise, and before I knew it, they were closing the doors. And off we went.

Mark and I headed down to the water. In the back of my head I remembered two things. One was that there was to be a fashion show that night in the space adjacent to The Italian Coffee Company. Mark needed to speak to the owner, Alexandro, about Kinship II’s diesel problems so we headed to visit to see what Cabo society had going on for it. When we arrived, it was filling with very beautiful people, to be sure. Also, very rich-looking. They were also taking invites. I was caffeined-out so I didn’t order one of their delicious espresso doble’s, but it didn’t matter. In seconds, Alexandro had sheparded us out to the entrance and before we knew it, we were sitting in fine seats, awaiting the beginning. It wasn’t until yesterday that I discovered that Cabo is an hour behind Manzanillo, so I have been moving around the entire time we have been here an hour early. From the waking up on. Mark and I were there at least a half-hour early. And for either one of us to be anywhere early or even on time — even a bikini, undies, and resort wear — is absolutely fantastic! Pure disinformation! It can’t be true! Maybe I need to keep my watch set to an hour later — somewhere in the Atlantic east of the coast. It just might work!

Don’t fashion shows end with the bikini and underwear bits? This show began the program with it before transitioning to banal resort wear, golfing shorts, polo tops, zoris, canvas bags — all in pastel.

The finale came into the room with the boom and thunder of a couple Harley-Davidsons. There is an H-D boutique here in Cabo and they dressed the sweet girls in leather halters and told them to act rough and tumble, but they continued to look really cute, sun kissed, and lovely.

We left right after the finale and rushed over to grab some joe at The Italian Coffee Company. I was really keen on seeing the crowd let up. Over an espresso doble, we watched the glitterati of Los Cabos. These socialites are like the socialites from anywhere else save NYC. Families of affluent mothers and their girls and even some of the sons.

Just like everywhere else, the same wildly gorgeous selection of the wealthy and healthy. The same people did the same thing while I was growing up in Hawaii, but in the day, our resident model was Willow Change and it was Tedd and the HK Boys and the Kahala and Hawaii Kai families who’s children went to HSG and Punahou who were in this timespace speaking Spanish and going off to do this or that: see a film, grab some coffee, get some desert or grab a late dinner.

And that is how Mark Harrison and Chris Abraham enjoyed becoming Cabo San Lucas society for a day.

Luckily, there had not been a single day during the entire month when we have not met some really amazing people. Neither Mark nor I are shy in any way around people, and it certainly aids in the gentle sweet production of memories. None of this trip has had anything even remotely to do with the place, it always has to do with the people, in my opinion.

We are off first thing in the morning. This morning we took lessons from Sebastian on how to have a sustainable, happy, and sexual long-term marriage while growing a beautiful family on a 35-foot sailboat. If he can make it work, then we all should be able to. Great kids; great couple; awesome marriage! We spent our day refilling the diesel and water tanks. Alexandro, in addition to being the owner of the Cabo Italian Coffee Company, was an jet and airplane engineer, his specialty being diesel engines.

So, we had him and his family over to enjoy some crazy bay wildlife behavior and Alexandro helped us totally and completely fix our diesels so that they stop leaking. While talking to Alexandro’s son, Alexandro, it came out that I can speak pretty good Spanish. Sadly, with any language besides English, I am too embarrassed to actually speak! So, after two hours on the cat’s tramp, Alexandro looked completely frightened that this silent English speaker who has been coming to the cafe can in fact speak passable Spanish. Funny that, even I didn’t know I could any more. Its good to know.

(But of course its not even remotely true — I can barely speak English fluently!)

Funny animal behavior? Mantas jump two or three feet out of the water! Even better, when they do they flip head over teakettle as if they were thrown into the air like a horseshoe. Then they splash into the water in whichever direction they happen to hit. This has been going on all day. It happens all the time here and Cabo is known for it. There are also loads of Sea Lions here, and they move in packs and are funny and lovely and truly look more like the animals called by the Germans “sea dog.” They truly look like pups with flippers. Innumerable pelicans, frigates, gulls. As we remain moored, the pelicans become more and more emboldened. Soon, Kinship II will be enshrouded with a feathery toupee of what I believe are direct descendants of the pterodactyl. And their generous donation of fertile guano! Want to see Mark happiest? Cover his boat with poop! He loves that. So, alas, we leave tomorrow. Cabo has treated me very well!

Adios y hasta luego!

Mark has never done it and neither of us is the type, but either the people we have met in Cabo are pulling major magic or we forgot to weigh anchor because we left Cabo San Lucas and then came right back. It was 12 hours of being on a stationary bike at sea: lots of peddling but we weren’t going anywhere. (Originally posted Apr 04, 2003 – 08:49 PM)

Mark and I made a run to escape Cabo San Lucas because it really is quite beautiful, the set up that we have down here. Every morning, we wake to barking sea lions. Absurd manta rays flopping around like flapjacks on the water. Noble pelicans skimming the tranquil shallows. The bay is surrounded by cragged cliffs and rocks fronts. Although skidoos buzz like gadflies, the water is calm and safe and its possible for a boat to anchor very close offshore. With the Wade family (Seb and Deb) sharing their cute little kids (Alex, Ben, and Dom) with us (and sometimes too much of a good thing!), with Bruce keeping is rife with fresh fish, and with the gang from Italian Coffee Company hooking me up with Espresso Dobles and Mark up with diesel and Cabo tips, its is quite comfy here.

So, we left yesterday at the crack of noon. Mark, being a Virgo (that’s his excuse not mine), requires us to always make sure that Kinship II is completely tip-top shape each and every time we ship out, which means we burn the morning. I am a very fine crew so this is no big deal, especially since we get to spend just a little more time in Cabo as a result, but by the time we departed after saying our goodbyes to the Wades and to Bruce in a sort of fly by, we hit a load of awful weather.

From storm clouds to lightning, from current to big seas, we couldn’t catch a break. We were able to motorsail past Cabo Falso, which took us around 2-4 miles offshore, but then we fought for 12-hours and couldn’t make any ground.

From noon until midnight, under full power and sail, we stayed still. We used both the engines and still, after twelve hours of motorsailing out, it took us only 3 hours to return. Yes, Captain Mark aborted and we came back to moor at 3am and touched our way in like a blind man. Using our memory and a spot, we were able to find a mooring and fell to sleep in our cabins exhausted at four in the morning. This is the very first time in the years that Mark has sailed that he has ever aborted a sail. The only other options we have under this problem is to tack to Hawaii and then back to LA; alternately, since I want Wendy to continue dating me, we can load up the deck with jerry cans of diesel and fight it out, using much more fuel than we can currently carry.

So, tomorrow, Mark and I are driving out with Alexandro Junior from the Italian Coffee Company to find diesel jerry cans so that we can carry enough to take us through. We have been getting loads of diving in as well. We have been compulsively scrubbing the hulls in the hope that we can squeak even as little as a quarter of a knot out of the hydrodynamics of sweet Kinship II, our beloved 42-foot French catamaran made by Jeaneau.

As I always like to say about our boat: Better the sailboat Jeaneau than the sailboat you don’t

I spent the entire morning unable to connect with any of my mates in London. Failed to plan but didn’t plan to fail. So, I stored my bags at the Paddington bag-check and then hoofed it about.

Firstly, I had a sandwich and an espresso at a very fine Italian-inspired cafe; then, I hoofed it around. Its a very attractive and exotic city, London. Much more exotic and Euro than I remember it being.

It is probably heightened as a result of Summer. There are maybe as many French tourists in London as there are German and English tourists on holiday in Majorca.

I ended up in Hyde Park, just spending time making .99c calls around town in an attempt to make the connection keeping me from failure.

I had called Audrey a few times, only to get the old “I don’t answer my phone until after 2pm” message and so I plopped down on a lawn right near the rowboat pond and quickly chatted up a few Kiwis.

They turned out to be the long-haul Kiwis, from Christ Church, South Island. They were brill and I believe their names are Justin, Nadine, and Sarah.

The Cure was prepping to play and I would have found a gentle scalper and secured a ticket (to go with Nadine) but I called Audrey one last time and she answered and beckoned me come quickly to meet at Paddington: there was to be a party.

Of course, London was 28C yesterday and 29C today. All the Weekend email has tried to remind me to bring along cashmere and rain gear, but alas, its hot and sunny.

I always have a tendency to bring along the unseasonably warm weather (I have yet to see Seattle rainy) so this is really very little surprise except I am bleeding bloody hot as a pimple on Ra’s bum.

And I don’t have the proper kit, either.

Well, the shower did me well, the ex-boyfriend would not allow me to stay over and crash at Audrey’s pad (long story) so I am squatting at a shitty hotel near to where Audrey lives (not her real name, I am sure you could guess. I mean, how many Baronesses do you know who are named Audrey?) so that she and I can grab lunch and whatnot, convenient to Paddington — which is where my train leaves to get me to Oxford for Renaissance.

The gang at this dual-service birthday party were brill. There were some really fly people. First black partner at a Very Large Consulting Company, the head of European operations for a Very Large International Coffee Cafe, etc. Lovely people and since lovely Collette had just been to Russia, there was actually more red and black caviar than the entire party was able to consume. And I had a very good go of it.

Although I do have to admit that I failed miserably. Gorgeous and amazing people, all. I do have to admit that I felt dagger the entire night from Audrey’s ex, although he really had nothing to worry about. I am a sweet, loving, charming, innocent school boy.

Although I had not had a nap at all, I was able to play until well after midnight. I awoke at half-eight and was so excited as to the weather and how much fun I would have whilst in London, I quickly fell asleep.

Then, an hour later, Audrey rung and told me to meet her at a cafe out my door, take a left, then another left at the T. She would be at a table half-noon.

Of course, I was excited and so grateful because I had three hours until we met. Oh, the fun I could have in London until then.

When I awoke at 11:30 with a start, I rushed around, trying to both remain cool (so that I didn’t start a nasty sweat) and also speedy. No AC in the room, and no WC in the room either, although I had a sink and a shower.

I took a quick shower, donned the CAP shorts I brough as an afterthough, and then the shirt I am wearing now and rushed out to spend the morning (er afternoon) with sweet A.

The place we ate (the name escapes me) is a cafe, pizza joint, and DVD rental store.

I had a delightful croissant (I am still finding crispy flaked in my clothes), a cappuchino, and an OJ.

Audrey drinks three bottles of SPA watter-with-gas a day, so I could never keep up.

But what we did that was fun was take a long lazy playful and chatty walk around the lake right by her flat. The park is part of the greater Hyde park and was a laugh. I actually got to see Londoners pretty close to nekkid since the sun was out and it was hot.

There were bellies, breasts, and bottoms exposed everywhere. You interpret that as you may.

And then our togetherness was over and Audrey had to go rush off to study Hindi (as one does, I suppose).

And I went home and was hot hot hot; I went home and watched Formula 1 and tried to get cool. Michael Schumacher won, and I guess I am lucky to have seen it. Go Ferrari!

Then I went and used an internet cafe, walked to Picadilly Circus where I saw the Austin Powers film, walked around more, being beckoned and resisting all the sin with which London may tempt one, and finally I am at what is called the easyInternetCafe.

And now I have to find my way home, back to the charming fleabag hotel.

And I have more stories, but I am tired and I wan’t to go to bed. Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep, and then leave me alone. Don’t try to wake me in the morning ’cause I will be gone.

In London, baby!

Posted Jul 28, 2002 – 04:04 PM

London just after dark and into the night near Piccadilly and so forth Just Isn’t Cricket. Its rough, tumble, and belligerently drunk. That said, I was able to harness a little bit of Chris Magic(tm) after leaving the Internet Cafe.

I don’t actually possess a map of London. I have been following my bliss. By the time 12:30am came around, I was well lost. The streets are dodgy but not dangerous… quite the opposite of Washington’s.

Finally, after being unable to find a taxi, I thought that I would in fact have to actually ask directions. Just then I came across a man who was pushing his car. Being Big and Burly, I made quick work of pushing his car around the corner.

JJ apparently has his Accord tricked out with the top-of-the-line security system. Thing is, the radio tower buggered his remote, so his car was incapacitated.

When I easily pushed his car about a kilometer, he got it started and I was rewarded with a new friend in London — he’s Filipino — and street-to-door service.

Sadly, I have to go — I have lunch plans — but I am still not on England time and I slept til noon.

More later!

Posted Jul 29, 2002 – 06:38 AM