December 17, 2008
First impressions are very hard to shake.
For example, I think of Venezuela as a very dark, rainy place of mostly weird, long strips of pavement.
Okay, I’ve only “been there” once on a stopover on the way to Chile, and we didn’t get off the plane, and it was midnight and raining. But there ya go. Sorry Hugo, sorry Venezuela, not coming back.
Once, in Spain, I was staying in a hotel (really bunch of condo type buildings by the beach) in Girona. In our particular room, the toilet didn’t work. Upon being informed of our plight, the manager told us that the place was full, and she offered us a bucket. I am NOT making this up.
I’ve been back to Spain a couple times, had a wonderful time, and yet, the first thing that pops into my head when I think of Spain is the poop bucket.
Israel has the worst ice cream I’ve ever eaten, leaving me with no desire to ever go to Israel again.
On the other hand, Italy has unbelievably good gelato, fantastic skiing, and much much more. I’m going back. The only downside to Italy is that the people there are CRAZY. But I’m okay with that. Ernesto Sabato said ““The first time I passed through the country (Switzerland) I had the impression it was swept down with a broom from one end to the other every morning by housewives who dumped all the dirt in Italy” Which, as far as I know, is actually what happens. But in a good way.
My first impression of Vietnamese food is that they eat rats and cats. I do not know where I got that impression, except to blame my parents for not properly teaching me about Vietnamese food.
My point? I have become addicted to Pho. I have reached the point where if I don’t have Pho at least once or more a week, I become irritable. (And irregular, but I don’t know if I can blame that on the Pho, or lack of Pho.)
Some people call Pho “Swamp Soup.” But, like Shrek, I LOVE my swamp. I am not going to eat the Pho with tripe, or tendon. Nor do I want heart, liver, or tongue. I am not actually Vietnamese, right?
But plain ole Pho? I am smitten.