Raining Pot Brownies

The night before last brought torrential downpours to the Albany area that killed one teen and cut off power to thousands. The deluge lasted over an hour with a million flashbulbs tearing through the dark heavens. I admit, it was mighty scary. Flooding evacuated little towns close to rivers and the lighting knocked out power feeds at the International airport. My own backyard was strewn with flying burnt limbs from my neighbors tree that got hit and split in two. Luckily the tree stood standing but could have easily toppled ontop of her house and mine.

24 hour later pink skies and calm forcasts lured hundreds of thousands to Albany's "Alive at 5" free concert series at the Hudson River Park pavillion. Thoughts of the dramatic chaos from the night before were drownded out by Jefferson Airplane singles performed by everyone but Grace Slick. Jen and Stacy and me plopped ourselves down on a little slice of land closest to a sordid collection of leather-clad Harley boys. They were already three-sheets to the wind when I offered up my Mutti's Brownies. Kindingly, I whispered that I laced them with pot. My new friend Jim's eyes widened and a big smile dressed his face. "I haven't had one of these in 20 years" he gasped. The placebo effect kicked in and Jim was loving life. He bought us roses to show his appreciation.

Bleachy-Haired Honky Bleep

I'm reading a screamingly hilarious book right now called "Bleachy-Haired Honky Bitch." It's a sassy memoir with a title that would be banned and buried if the MPAA had any say in the matter. Instead it sold faster than sunscreen during the summer of 2004 and I'm just finally catching up on the trend now. Author Hollis Gillespie writes an epithet laden with more color, candor and self-deprecating wit than a major league sports columnist . She has an ear for the ridiculous and writes several crazy profane memoirs of her dysfunctional family and friends. Jen Joy insisted I read it on the flight to Russia but the book is so loaded down with levity that my laughing annoyed the other passengers. The shock value of her books is deserving of undivided attention so read it away from impressionable children, cranky mothers, holier-than-thou zealots and yes, even flight attendants. Not only is Gillespie a meaningful writer but an airline stewardess as well.

Bones to Benedictine Abbeys

From Bones to Benedictine Abbeys, thanks to the ever diligent Steve Hartshorne, my latest GoNomad article just got posted. Take a peak to see how you too can spend your time in Southern France this summer. It's a wonderful region with one of the best grape-growing soils in the world. Wine or not, Roman history will have your head swimming in medievel magic at Carassonne and Narbonne. Following Southern France I escaped to Paris for 3 days. That too was beyond my wildest. Check out some of the videos I shot/edited online at Turnhere.com next month and thanks for reading!

Expert Village

Streaming video on the internet is a booming business and I've got my hand in several websites including Turnhere, Discovery Mobile, Realhealth and Expert Village. Ace mechanic George Dunbrook of Mobile Dunbrook in Albany, NY was one of my first victims to help me make a buck in this 'how-to" web world. This video was submitted last year but it took until today to get it up and running. Mobile is under construction but that doesn't stop George from coming to the rescue of those needing brake pads, tune-ups and their wheels rotated.

Tea Time with Samovars

Custom agents didn't even know what this curious paraphernalia-looking object was when returning home from Russia last Saturday. "It's a Samovar used for brewing hot tea" explained our party. I imagine the custom agent could think of 101 illegal and dangerous reasons not to let it pass but he let us go anyway. Phew - because it truly is a traditional tea-making container heated with coal or charcoal and used in communal settings. One of our last nights in Tula a self-made millionaire showed us how it's done. At the top is an attachment or lid to hold and heat a teapot filled with flavored spices and loose caffeinated tea. You allow the water to boil then using the faucet you fill a cup half way with boiling water and then add the teapot with the stronger concentrate. The result is unabashed strong chai, just the way I like it. Many newer samovars use electricity but Richie Rich knows imposters when he sees them and sticks to the traditional.

Dachas in the Adirondacks

As soon as I'm back from traveling abroad, it never fails, I'm drawn back to the great Adirondacks to enjoy what no other country can offer: familiarity. Thanks to a family who loves the outdoors I was born not with a silver spoon in my mouth but a paddle in my right hand. I'm as comfortable paddling a canoe as most people are driving a car.

Our little stretch of inlet is as smooth and polished as a pocket mirror. Our canoe skims over hundreds of yellow budding lily pads and a clean sandy bottom. Along the banks grow tall white pines, silver maples and stubby ferns. Layered hills and forested islands surround us. The narrow tributary flows into the largest lake in the Adirondacks, Lake George. It's a Sunday so the lake is filled with city slickers living large in their jetskis and speedboats. Mutti and I opt to canoe the shallow waters near the edge where we can observe fish and dead logs.

New York City tycoons have carved out what the Ruskies call dachas or summer homes. Unlike Russia's modest dwellings these mansions could accommodate extended families from several generations without every bumping into each other. It's sort-of silly as well being a blight on the beauty of the natural environment.

Mutti and I find ourselves a smooth rock face to dock our canoe and take a dip. A sign reads "Be Careful - Rattlesnakes." We slip into the warm waters floating on the surface with our life perservers underneath us. This is living.

Home Sweet Home

Ahhhh, Home sweet Home. I arrived home from Russia safe and sound but not before nearly missing my connecting flight in Paris. The ever-changing Charles de Gaulle airport is a commuter shuttle nightmare. Nina and I raced from one terminal to the next getting to Gate E87 in time for our Air France flight home to JFK. A 2-hour window should have been ample time to find a gate but it wasn't. With 2 minutes to spare we boarded a plane with dozens of grumbling passengers wanting to lift-off. But we weren't the only ones who were late. A head-count was given twice but 3 unfortunate souls failed to show. They're probably still searching today...

Meanwhile, I'm recovering from my new addictions to Vodka, Bilinis and Russian tea from a Samovar. These are the culinary delights that the U.S. fails to import enough of. Maybe a new trend needs some attention....?

8th Wonder of the World

This marvelous Russian-style church is the Church of Our Savior on the Spilled Blood in St. Petersburgh, Russia. Emperor Alexander II was assassinated in March 1881 by a group of revolutionaries, who threw a bomb at his royal carriage. As a result this church. Restoration began in 1980 and finally finished a few years ago. The inside hangs volumes upon volumes of fine mozaic art complemented by a big beautiful marble floors. I stood with my jaw opened for what seems like hours. It's captivating!

The Third Wave

It's not the prettiest picture, taken from atop Saint Issaac's Church in downtown St.Petersburgh but it gives you an idea of how much construction is going on in this town.

A Window Looking Into Europe

Picture from last night's amazing White Nights

Soaring to Saint Petersburg, Russia

"The most abstract and intentional city on earth" - said Fyodor Dostoyevesky.

We arrived in Saint Petersburg, Russia earlier this afternoon and even though it's midnight it's still light outside. In fact, in a few hours, Benita and I are taking a stroll through the city streets to see the raising of the bridges. During the months of June and July the sun never completely sets and that's why it's called "The White Nights". I'll give you a more updated blog on the bridges tomorrow.

This city was founded by Peter the Great in 1703 and built on the backs (or bones) of millions of slaves and hardworking peasants. It's absolutely stunning and suburbly built in every way, shape and form despite being built on a swamp. Earlier today we started our journey at the Palace Square where I shot amazing footage of the Catherine the Great's Hermitage Museum. Original works from the Masters of art, sculpture and architecture decorate all 12K of square footage. It's quite simply mindblowing and its scale alone can hardly fail to impress.

But before enjoying this European-like city Benita and I struggled to get our luggage into the airport from Moscow. So few Russians care to help or offer assistance when they see someone in distress. Men simply stand around puffing away on cancer sticks and women feign that they see you. Nina, our Soviet expat, told us that "old Communist attitudes die hard". Likewise in the airport hotel resturant. At the buffet, someone dropped a ceramic plate on the floor shattering into dozens of pieces but nobody cared to pick it up. We had to step around the glass and hope that nothing sprayed into our food.

Moscow can be a grim and gloomy place but St. Petersburg is bright, cheery and inviting despite the random deluges and colder temperatures. This city is immaculate, regal, rich and the living much more civilized. I want to stay longer than 2 days.

Banyas and Burials

The best part about Russia is the Banya. The worst part about is Russia the banya.

Yes, donning nothing but my humilty I survived an oak twig and leaf lashing at my very first banya.
Banyas are all the rage in Russia so there was no going back when I was graciously invited into a private banya that closely resembles a sauna. The light beating is supposed to relieve tension and stress and invoke calm and tranquility. It did neither. However, a naked dip in the pool after the ordeal helped. I'll refrain from posting photos ... maybe next time.

24 hours later...

Before I bid farewell to Tula our tour guides have a surprise visit to the Tolstoy museum 20 minutes from the city. This is one of the world's most famous and visited museums but thankfully we hit it on a slow day. We explored the grounds where Tolstoy lived, worked and died including the small black leather couch he was born on and the plot of earth he's buried under. It was astonishing to hear he spoke 5 languages fluenty and knew up to 15. He was a profound thinker, imaginative writer, heroic advocate for the poor and of course, somewhat of a ladies man. Supposedly, there were dozens of illigemite children running all over the countryside in the late 1800's.

Where he found the time to exercise his vices while writing "War and Peace", I will never know.

Shoes

Tula has been a whirlwind of activities. Hospitals, out-patient clinics, camps for autistic children and countless interviews with some of Russia's most prestigious doctors. Sunday we decided to take a rest and sight-see. Like mentioned in the previous post, we visited an outdoor market right before closing time and did a cute little piece on shoes.

Women couldn't be more grateful for democracy because of the influx of shoes it has brought to the country. Shoes are like diamonds here - some are ostentatious and gaudy, others are sophisticated and proper and still others are wild and whimsical. Women salivate over each other's high pumps and stiletto boots. They pass judgment not on each others haircuts and apparel (like we do in the U.S.) but foot and shoe etiquette. It's all about dressing to impress from the knee-cap down. But, because I'm a sneaker connoisseur I'm not tempted in the least. Handbags, shoes and jewelry do not exist in my world though I seem to spend just as much money on sneakers as everything else combined. Still it was fun to people watch others with the fetish.

Fast Times in Tula

For breakfast, it's been hot-dogs, plain yogurt, tomato salad and 1 black tea bag. In the evening, we dine on a feast meant for a king - soup, salad, a plate of cheese, a whole mess of caviar with rye bread and the list goes on. It's all part of our last supper before falling into a deep sleep without dreams. I do my best to balance the frantic pace but taking catnaps in a van dodging potholes is all but impossible.

The crumbling conditions of roads, apartment complexes, parks and cathedrals is a left-over from Soviet times and because Tula lacks the proper the funding to fix the infrastructure, Band-Aids blanket the city. It's a patchwork of poorly paved roads, over-grown lawns and boarded-up buildings. But what lacks in hygiene and beauty on the outside is made up for on the inside. The medical teams and staff we've interviewed do their very best with what little equipment they have to help the sick.

Yesterday, Benita and I spent all day walking up countless floors (only the disable use the elevator - when there is one) to videotape the entire spectrum of healthcare available - from general practitioners to heart surgeons to a camp specializing in caring for autistic children. And just like at home, happy smiling children rush up to the camera wanting to be on tv. Parents of autistic children who attend the Valeo Camp are most thankful for the progress, albeit slow, they receive. With only 3 camps like it in the entire country of Russia, the staff at Valeo have their work cut out for them.

Despite the rain, today's excursion was spent in sunnier places. First, we sprayed footage of Tula's Kremlin (every town has a Kremlin or walled city) with stops at towers once used for torture. 2 men reenacted a medieval sword fight to heavy-metal music playing on loud speakers. It was too surreal to keep my mouth shut and I giggled with disbelief.

Following that, we photographed Tula's oldest cathedral church with wonderful green onion-shaped domes, though they look more like Hershey's Kisses when they're wrapped in gold. Later in the day, we tore through the Sunday market with only 15 minutes left before closing. High-heeled shoe stores are a basic necessity for women here and there's no way I'd survive in the spikes they wear. Every pair gives them another 4 inches of leg lift! Lastly, a ride in the park on a horse-drawn carriage. So much more to write but it's getting late and by the looks of me, I need more than just a catnap!

Tula Insight

Our work this week in Tula, Russia explores the medical and mental health conditions of the hospitals and university systems. It's an over all prognosis of a country bouncing back from decades of communism. Once taboo to talk about, only now am I learning why. Under the old regime, religion was banned, psychiological health care was sorely lacking and streets were dark by 8pm. It sounded like a dreadful place. But with fortitude and strength of steel the Russians preserved and now embrace their new freedoms with nightlife, festivals, the arts and of course alternative art therapy and preventative medicines. Today, I videotaped some of the most bizarre contraptions for helping the skin, eyes, ears, nose, throat, scalp stay healthy. I was skeptical at first but if it's working, and they say it is, than wonderful. Russians place far more emphasis on prevention than the US. Preventing drug use, preventing unwanted pregnancies, preventing or helping the early systems of mental illness - it's a society that really takes care of its own. Again, unlike in the states, medicines, be them herbal or what we would consider prescribed can be bought over the counter. This can pose risks as well as quicker treatment but the bottom-line is it's not about making pharmaceutical or insurance companies rich. It's protecting the consumer as well as the doctor. More to come when we visit more municipal health camps tomorrow as well as dinner at another fabulous Russian restaurant.

Moscow then Tula

Moscow is a wonderful city but there are more soldiers, guards and watchmen keeping eyes on me and my video camera than Fort Knox. I'm usually guilty of being the voyeur and peeping through windows and doors but here I am, the subject being studied closely. What a turn of tides. Still, there's no denying how commercial and cosmopolitan this city in just 16 years. There's all the worst of our fatty American fast food restaurants like KFC, McDonalds and Sabbaro's. There's all the best of the world's posh boutique runway stores like Prada, Louis Vuitton and all things Paris. There's all things individualized like tattoos, pierced noses, chains, goth dress and purple hair.

Following our short stay in Moscow we headed for the reason were here - Tula. Albany and Tula, Russia are sister cities that share in learning about each other's heritage, culture and traditions. Moreover, it's a city learning how to make democracy work by observing Albany in action, how we have grown, matured and developed over 2 centuries.

Tula took about 3 hours to drive to early Wednesday morning. Gas stations are a new novelty for Russians - many who learned to navigate the country after the fall of communism. Surprisingly, gas is priced equivalent to ours despite the abundance of reserves they export. When I asked about global warming and alternative fuel sources the young people agreed that "the U.S. created the problem and now they should solve it.". I swallowed my pride and admitted that they were right.

Today (Thursday) was full of surprises that shattered many preconceived notions. But you'll have to wait till tomorrow because my 5 shots of Vodka are catching up with me and my brain is spinning out of control. Until I'm sober again, dobre vieche!

Millions in Moscow

Hooray, hooray! We; meaning Benita, Nina, Charlotte and myself, arrived in Moscow a few hours ago. It's the largest city in all of Europe - 12 million and counting. Our first stop, the ministry of public affairs for our press passes. Can't do much sightseeing with a huge bulky camera wrapped around my shoulder without an official media pass. There's still plenty of checks and balances everywhere in this country, especially with tenses mounting between our administration and theirs. But we're here for positive coverage and Moscow is just a pleasant pit-stop on our journey to Tula tomorrow.

After gaining our press passes we feasted on a plateful of fresh fish and vegetable soup at a restaurant or pectopaw. You pronounce the p like a "r', the c like a "s" and the w like a "n". Confusing? You betcha! As if learning a new language isn't enough the alphabet dupes us as well.

This country feels like it's in slow motion or it could be that we're all so tired from our 10-hour flight in. We finally manage to finish lunch and walk to the Metropol, the hotel we're staying at for the night. Our shortcut just happens to cut through Red Square. Immediately, I'm struck by the grandeur and colorful edifices. Lenin's tomb, the History Museum and of course the magnificently decorated Saint Basils, seeing it with my naked eyes against a beautiful blue backdrop with big fluffy white clouds is surely surreal.

My camera has a mind of its own and I find a way to shoot all the coverage I need before the sun sets and the guards pounce. Nina, our interpreter and Irian, our guide, parade us up and down the city streets observing traditions in action and globalization at work. Women love their fashionable high heel shoes and Camel Lights and men can't get enough of gabbing on their Nokia cell phones. The winds of change blow us into a fountain park better known for the soldiers that guard the 'Tomb of the Unknown' despite the hundreds of tattooed youth lounging on the lawn.

The candor I'm hearing will make for some eye-popping stories throughout the Capital Region when Benita Zahn puts this together for NBC-13. Be reading tomorrow when I describe what our first shot of 100% proof Vodka tastes like chased by a dill pickle!

Elevate for Excercise

Yes, finally, I'm ready for a 10-hour flight to Russia. I just spent all day Saturday with my physical fitness guru climbing straight up 2 Catskill mountains. We got caught in a terrential downpour atop Wittenburg in Ulster County and yours truly forgot her Gortex. I was soaking wet, filthy and my knees throbbed by the end of our 9.5 mile loop. Mutti impressed everyone with her stamina and perserverance. She quit smoking years ago and it showed today. Belonging to the Lilly family, the endangered trillium flower could also be seen randomly among the lush green vegetation. All and all, a great day to be alive and yodeling in the woods!

Backpacking Wittenberg and Cornell Mt

Before I spend 12 hours aboard a 787 jet to Russia I intend to wear myself out backpacking Wittenberg and Cornell Mountains this weekend. Nola, Mutti, me and 2 other tip-top shape gals will bust our humps up 4 miles of steep Catskill terrain in sticky humid weather for an aerial view to die for. Well, maybe not that good - but that's what I'll keep telling myself when the going gets rough. Nola tells me that there's one steep vertical climb where we might need oxygen masks so pack alot of water. Similar to the Adirondacks 46'ers Club the Catskill 3500 Club is a peakbagging organization for hikers in the Catskill Mountains. There are 35 Catskill High Peaks over 3,500 feet with Cornell Mountain rating 9th on that list.