I just wrapped up my second day of medical tests and day two went faster than day one. Not necessarily easier or better, just faster. Upon arrival, I met my handler from yesterday who handed my paperwork to a woman who simply said, “Come” and walked off. It took me well over an hour to figure out that she was my handler for today.
First Day of Medical Tests
My first day of medical testing at the BLK Max Super Specialty hospital (gotta love the name) was an interesting experience. The hospital sent a driver to pick me up and drive me to the hospital, which was helpful. I’d eventually learn that not only is it a 5 minute walk, but, depending on traffic, sometimes the fastest way to the hotel from other parts of the city included cutting through the hospital parking lot. I got to the hospital and met my handler, a nice Indian man named Sukhen. I didn’t actually get his name at the time; he texted it to me late that afternoon when we were exchanging numbers, so I had no name for him all day. I just thought of him as my “handler”. The first order of business was to pay for the tests. Everything had to be paid for and the invoices and receipts shown to the techs before they would do any tests, which makes sense. Sukhen handled the communication with the admin for me; I’d later learn that his official job title wasn’t handler but rather translator. In a country where English is one of the 2 official languages, I ran into a surprising amount of trouble communicating in English, so having a translator on hand was helpful. After a good 30 minutes of standing in line, trying to explain things to the admin, and getting paperwork together, we were off.
Arriving In New Delhi
I don’t know what I was expecting when I arrived at the new Delhi airport. Years of online videos of the chaos of Indian cities had clearly taken root in my brain. I expected to hear hundreds of people talking, street vendors selling food from push carts, cars honking incessantly, and cows meandering wherever they pleased. And yes, part of me thought I’d see all of that inside the airport.
4 Days Of Yoga
Wrapping up my fourth day at the yoga retreat, I feel like I’m definitely noticing some changes. I both don’t mind yoga as much as I did previously, but I also hate yoga a little more. I know that I’m getting more flexible with every class, but progress is so slow that it seems like I’m treading water.
My First Yoga Session
I am a manly man. I like 80s hair bands and muscle cars. I used to own a Mustang. I’ve owned 3 in fact. I like burgers and beer. I like my steaks medium rare and my bourbon neat. I go to the gym and pick up heavy things; cardio is a four-letter word. But, like most manly men, I’m getting older.
Tasting Phoenix: A Culinary Journey
Phoenix, a city known more for its blistering summers than its culinary scene, surprised me with an array of taste experiences that could rival any gastronomic capital. My adventure began on a Thursday, a day I dedicated to exploring the city’s diverse food landscape, starting with lunch at the famed Pizzeria Bianco. Here, amidst the rustic charm and the gentle hum of conversation, I savored a Margherita pizza. Its simplicity was its triumph: a tangy tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, and basil leaves on a perfectly charred crust, paired with a bottle of Chianti that whispered of Tuscan hills and sun-drenched vineyards.
Big Easy Eats: A Weekend Of Eating In New Orleans
Welcome to the lively streets of New Orleans, where the good times roll and the food is as spicy as the jazz in the air! Let’s dive into our whirlwind adventure through the Big Easy, where every bite tells a story and every sip is a toast to the city’s rich culture.
Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 5
4 days of riding in Spain was one of the best trips that I’ve ever taken. For my long-time readers, you know that’s saying a lot. It helps to have great scenery and a great route (even if you have to adjust it on the fly), but what was most important was riding with friends. We spent no more than 4 hours each day on the bikes, leaving plenty of time to hang out and socialize. And knowing that I was riding with friends gave me a sense of security and safety that I wouldn’t have had on my own or may not have had if I had been riding with a tour group. But there was a lot more to the ride than just that.
Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 4
The next few days of riding were fantastic. Gorgeous weather, great roads, and good riding. As I mentioned before, I haven’t done a lot of long rides, but both Glenn and John commented that this was some of the best scenic riding that they’d ever done. Along the route from Cadiz to Ronda on day 3, we stopped in a small town called Algar. It may have been one mile from one end to the other, but it was nothing but bumpy European streets and sharp turns, so we left as quickly as possible.
Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 3
Upon leaving the bike shop, Glenn did a great job of getting us onto the highway without too much trouble. The first thing I noticed about Spanish roads that I hadn’t considered before is that they love their roundabouts. That worried me. I hate roundabouts. I will deliberately reroute myself when driving in DC to avoid roundabouts. But DC has roundabouts with crosswalks and traffic lights, which completely minimizes the point of the roundabout in the first place. Spanish roundabouts are the ‘right’ kind. Cars and trucks, no crosswalks or pedestrians, no traffic lights or signs. Just a roundabout, the way they’re meant to be. That makes them much easier to navigate.