What's so great about FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE?

Russia was the second Bond film and, in my opinion--and that of most film scholars--it's the best, rivalled only by Goldfinger. Future Bond film-makers and screen-writers should be mandated to watch it before beginning their work, because it's got everything GOOD about a Bond film without any of the bad.

First of all, it's a Cold War film. The film, I recall, does wimp out and uses SPECTRE as its villain (not the Soviet agency SMERSH), but the location (Turkey), plot (trapping spy Bond with a hidden camera during sex), and trappings (great train scenes; assassination scenes; full character development) make for a good stand-alone story, even without the cachet of Bond attached. The Cold War-type Bond books are the best, though the films veered off into super-villainy on remote islands which is patently ridiculous (it's even hard to take in Dr. No, frankly). But Russia is a secret agent us vs. them story, and that is reason #1 why it works.

And it's got great villains, especially Robert Shaw's assassin, and bad-girl Rosa Klebb (Lotte Lenya). The lead female character (I recall the actresses's name is Daniela Biancchi) is more than just a pretty face; she's actually involved in the story; she feels like she's got a life apart from the film.

And then there's Kerim Bey, played by the then-terminally-ill actor Pedro Armendariz. I love the scenes with this man, especially the journey into the tunnels under Istanbul. What a full performance he gives! Rare, all-to-rare for a Bond film to have a real actor plying his craft.

For the male chauvinists out there, there's even a wild, skirt-ripping Gypsy hell-cat fight to get pulses racing--and for the women, there's always Sean Connery at the height of his powers. Plus, it introduces one of John Barry's great musical themes during one of the action sequences--watch it and you'll immediatley know what I mean.

Truly, it's the only Bond film that would work without the main character being the famous James Bond--which has been my main complaint about most of the films, which would most definitely not. Hopefully, the upcoming Casino Royale will add another film whose story would work with or without the Bond label.

BTW, in the book, when Rosa Klebb tells the girl that she knows her full life-story, which she reviews with her in humiliating, excruciating detail--well, that became my inspiration for the Director's similarly-themed speech to Apparite. And, in turn, I'd bet that Fleming got it from someone before him, too! Very little in literature is entirely new--except maybe a main character's obsession with the Washington Senators. I think I've got the market cornered on that one.

I've decided to emphasize the Movies a bit more in this blog, in addition to writing about my favorite secret agent/assassin (also known as "The nicest, deadliest Spy in the World"), Superagent John Apparite.

Why?

Because everyone loves the movies; loves to talk about the movies; loves to hear others talk about the movies. I also think that I know a lot about the movies--I've read dozens of books in the area; seen hundreds and hundreds of films (from Aguirre: Wrath of God to Zardoz), and know the difference between Katherine Hepburn and Audrey Hepburn, between Jose Ferrer and Mel Ferrer, between M and Z.

The movie posts will encompass reviews, lists (Seven Greatest Whatevers), and a series that I'll call "What's great (or wrong, or awful) about ?" where I will give my opinion on past films of note. I hope people will enjoy it. I know I will--I love writing about film. I could do it all day.

So here's my movie thought for today: What's wrong with Memoirs of a Geisha?

I recently read the book by Arthur Golden--and it was pretty good. Glorious detail about a little known subject; great period depictions (Japan in 30's and 40's), and some memorable characters. And it was popular as hell--universal praise from the get-go.

But the film is a snooze! It's not for lack of talent: director Rob Marshall helmed Oscar-winner Chicago, and his technical back-up was superb: the art direction and costumes were wonderful; the music by John Williams some of his best work in years. They had great actresses involved, plus one truly great actor (Ken Watanabe), and an incredibly popular and beloved work to draw from.

Then why was I looking at my watch so much? Why was I glad when it ended?

1. Pacing. There seemed to be little dramatic tension--partly because you learn, early on, that Chiyo IS going to become a great Geisha, ruining (for the non book-reader) the drama of the story. There's little dramatic drive in the film; no great emotional journey for Chiyo to take. Her character, to me, seemed the same at the end of the film as at the beginning. The best character in the film is that of Hatsumomo--yet she disappears about 2/3 of the way through. And others, like the Chairman, Mameha, or Mother, seem to have no personality at all. The only characters of lasting note were Pumpkin and Nobu--neither of whom have enough to do.

2. The book. There are plot flaws in the book that become more noticeable in the film. In the book, you see, Golden uses his wonderful descriptions of Japan and Geisha life to interest the reader. In the film, that is lost--and all you have left is a very bare bones plot: Girl is sold to Geisha house; Girl makes Enemy; Girl meets nice Geisha; Girl becomes Geisha; Girl defeats Enemy; Girl survives war; Girl re-becomes Geisha; Girl gets the Chairman.

Again, the girl does not really change during the film, robbing her character of depth; things happen to her but she does not often cause things to happen. It's an unusually flat character--and a character that makes some dumb decisions in the book and film that don't ring true. Purposely sleeping with someone in hopes of getting caught--and still getting "her man" in the end? I barely bought it in the book, and didn't buy it in the film. And the way she treats Nobu is despicable--a better ending would have been for her to have truly fallen for Nobu and realized that, perhaps, the Chairman isn't all he's cracked up to be. Show the girl to be shallow in the begining of the film but more thoughtful and emotionally complex by the end. I'll just come right out and say it: Her getting the Chairman at the end is a cop-out. In the book it was an annoyance; in the film, it is fatal.

3. The Director. Rob Marshall is a theater director; Chicago was his first film. He did a great job--with an established theater piece. But with Geisha he had an adaptation challenge that even a truly great director--like Scorcese or Kubrick--would have struggled with. He was unable to create any real drama from the material, hoping, I believe, that the atmosphere of the piece would sustain the audience to the end. Unfortunately, I think he fell short. I recall a lot of people having been linked with this film before he was chosen to helm it--and I bet none of those that turned it down have any regrets. I kind of feel sorry for him--he chose a very tough book as his second project (dare I choose the fateful term, "unfilm-able"?)

Anyway, those are my theories. Some books lend themselves to film (GWTW), while others don't (Ulysses). I think the first Harry Potter film had the same problem--it seemed stilted, lifeless, married to the sourced material--but fortunately the last two in that series have been well-adapted. Geisha didn't work, but I do congratulate the film-makers for the effort. As an author, I welcome any film that tackles a mature book with intelligence. I'd rather have a failed Geisha than a failed Armageddon any day.

A hundred years of baseball history, flushed by greed--and all it took was about ten years to do it.

Maybe it's in my make-up, or my compulsion to understand the past, but I've always been one of those that treasured the long history of baseball: the "primitive" era before 1900, the "dead-ball" era until 1920, the "Ruthian era" of the twenties, the inflated-stats era of the thirties--every 10-20 years of baseball has its own panache; its own identity.

Except this last one: the "post-strike era." Those years since 1993 have nearly ruined Big League baseball for me, and the sad thing is, that I saw it coming.

Was it any coincidence that in the year of the impending strike, that homers were being hit at near-record paces? That following the strike, McGuire and Sosa destroyed the most hallowed record in sport? That Bonds followed on their heels, further raising the bar? That the baseballs themselves had begun to be manufactured in a different nation?

No.

I'm not a conspiracy theorist, my theories about J. Edgar Hoover aside. But I CANNOT believe that all of the above was a coincidence. And there IS a central point, a linch-pin, that explains it: GREED.

Owners wanted more homers, more offense; players wanted more money and glory. So when players began to use steroids--and I was one of the few who utterly believed Canseco's accusations, which, by the way, are turning out to likely be true--and the homers leapt up (Brady Anderson hit FIFTY (!) as a lead-off man one year) they all turned their heads, counted the cash, and proclaimed that "baseball was back."

Right. The whole time, I just was about sick. Sick that the records of Ruth and Maris--honest, non-supplement and 'roid using men--were obliterated. Sick that other records--Gehrig's AL RBI mark, Ruth's slugging percentage--were nearly eclipsed. Sick that people were celebrating this as a great thing; as being good for baseball.

They are now being proved wrong. Baseball is in one helluva' mess; a mess I am not trying to revel in, though it is difficult not to. Some may say "Oh grow up--Ruth couldn't carry Bonds' jock," or "Get outta' the past, bud!"

But a large part of baseball's appeal is the continuity OF its history--of the debates (Grove, Johnson, or Clemons? Ripken or Banks? Robinson, Schmidt, or Traynor?). Well, now the debate seems more likely to be, Human Growth Hormone or Stanozolol?

A hundred years of great baseball history--all down the drain. Well, as long as it made some people rich, I suppose most will say that it's okay....

Do you have a favorite shirt? Or tie? Or pair of shoes? Well, true love for a favored piece of clothing has its price, and I paid it last night.

It's odd how attached people get to inanimate objects; not just the ones that become anthropomorphic in nature, like stuffed animals or sock-monkeys, but even those every day items, too.

For me, it's my Edinburgh Military Tattoo shirt, bought in 1996 during my honeymoon after we'd attended the famous "Edinburgh Military Tattoo." It's--no he's been a perennial favorite ever since that cool August night, when I first spied him hanging at the souvenir stand (that shirt breathes like no other--even a 100 day doesn't faze him) but last night, he was wounded in battle. Critically wounded.

Okay, let me start by saying that I'm not a big fan of eating and drinking all kinds of crap at movies. I'd like to throttle the first idiot who decided that munching on a bag of popcorn--which cannot be done in silence--or slurping a glass of pop was a good idea in a crowded theater when everyone wants to watch and listen to what's happening on screen, and not in someone's mouth down the aisle. It's distracting and annoying. I'm sure I'm not alone on this.

So last night my wife and I see Thank you For Smoking. Pretty good film--not great, but pretty good--but my wife was afraid that she was going to cough a lot (scratchy, dry throat that night), so she went to the lobby and bought an Icee. That's one of those deep red, great-tasting frozen-ice drinks with a consistency that defies molecular chemistry or description.

"Do you want a sip?" she asked me.
Since the film hadn't started, and since Icee's are to me like heroin is to a junkie, I nod in agreement.
"Just a little one."
I take the Icee cup in hand. Remember that an Icee has a huge mound of Icee-drink on top of the cup, contained only by a rounded, clear plastic attachment.
I sip--damn, that's good, I think. An Icee's consistency cannot be described by mere words: foamy, slushy, syrupy--I dunno'. Maybe the Eskimos have a word for that type of frozen-ness, but I don't.
I go to hand the cup back to my wife when--the plastic lid pops off. Sploosh!
I have neglected one important point: my Military Tattoo shirt is white. Whiter than white. White like Ultra-Bright toothpaste white.
Deep red Icee virtually explodes all over my shirt, like I've been hit with a mortar round.
"I've been hit!"
Okay, so I didn't have the wit to say exactly that; instead, I used a word that contains the letters "G" and "D" and sounds an awful like "Goddammit!"
Alright, it was Goddammit.

My wife runs and grabs some napkins while I squeegee red Icee off my shirt with the side of my hand. The movie begins, I wipe myself off as best I can, but for the next 95 minutes am wearing a red and white shirt that is sticky as molasses. My favorite now red and white shirt as sticky as molasses.

We are out of town visting my wife's parents, so we get back to their house while my mother in law, a natural-born chemist if ever I saw one, applies various concoctions to the shirt.

With suspense it is washed and...
and...
it's white again!

I don't how what Icees are made of, but I would bet that some Icee-hired lawyer advised them, as a means of reducing cleaner-bill lawsuits, to make that substance self-cleaning, because I have never seen a large, completely permeated red stain like was on my favorite white polo shirt come out like that!

Either that, or my mother in law is a genius.

And from now on, my wife can cough her head off in a theater for all I care. After all, I gotta' shirt to protect.

WARNING: UCOD Spoilers! The third book is done, and now I'm ready to start the fourth. Really, you know, no book is EVER done--when I read the first one now I find things I want to change--but there comes a time to move on and figure out what is going to happen to your character next. And that, I've found, is the fun part.

In book two, that 'figuring out' process was easy--book one ends with Apparite recovering from his mission in London with one thought on his mind: kill Viktor. So in book two, do you think I'm going to have Apparite go to Spain and hang out with flamenco dancers? Hell no! He's going to Europe and--maybe, possibly--meet up with Viktor. Basically, I had book two plotted out before even completing book one.

For book three, I looked back at books one and two, pulling things out here and there to reference later on and lend some continuity to Apparite's life-story--just as in our own lives, which are not lived in a present-day vacuum, as too often seems to happen in novels and film (people have a history, and it influences them coninuously). And in book three, to change things up, I thought I'd have Apparite fight the Russkies in the U.S. (it's set in Iowa City, Iowa, of all places).

And you know what? Writing about the US was a lot harder than writing about London--or Saverne--or Berlin--or Brussels. The familiar assumes a feeling of the mundane, the ordinary, and it is not easy to pull out the interesting from it without a lot of thought and work. The end of book three, though, is something I'm proud of--I think it's the best two-chapter arc in all of the Apparite works to date. And the end of the book sets up book four.

Which takes place, I will tell you, in Europe, mainly Prague. At this point, I've written the first AND last chapters of it--it's the stuff in-between that's going to be difficult! But the Apparite books have come quickly so far, and when I've got the time--probably in mid-2007--I'll tackle that one in its entirety. I have a preliminary outline with character ideas, but there's much to be done.

And this is how I'll write it, in case you're curious:
#1. Take notes on interesting plot devices, or ideas, or facts, or tid-bits of human nature that strike me as book-fodder. I have a whole drawer full of post-its, paper-scraps, and such on which are written hundreds of the above. Maybe I'll post some on the website some time so you can see how disorganized that process is. But it works for me.

#2. Research the areas in question. I need to read up quite bit more on Prague and the Czech Republic, and will probably take a trip to Prague at some point, too. As ideas come along, so does the research--I have a library of books at home and a long list of websites which explore many of the areas of interest in the books. And those areas are ever-expanding.

#3. Plot out the book. I make an outline with key events spaced throughout, thinking of pacing along the way. Action--thinking/reflection--serious discussion--action--discussion--humorous meeting--action--etc. with each chapter's tone guiding me. Sometimes I move them around; sometimes they work out as-is. Sometimes there's a blank space, which I fill in when I've started writing and reach that point (Apparite's escape in UCOD was like that--I wrote it when I reached it, thinking logically, if I was in his place, what would I do?)

#4. Start writing. I almost always write in chapter order, though occasionally, if a really great idea strikes me, then I skip ahead. The episode of Apparite finding J back at the safe house in the mews was a 'skip ahead' moment, as was the end of book two. Oddly, I always write the first chapter of the next book while revising the previous one--I think it's a way of being creative during an uncreative time.

#5. Continue research during all of the above. There's always more information to look up: foreign language people to consult (my big coup was finding a woman named Natalia to translate Russian for me); facts to check; details to expand. That process does not end until the book goes to the publisher (and even then, I'm still doing it).

#6 Complete the book. It has taken me about 6-8 months to write, start to finish, each Apparite book. The first was 103,000 words; the second, 94,000; the last, 85,000. I think 85,000 is now about the right length for me, given what I've planned for Mr. Apparite (really, UCOD could have been TWO 52,000 word books: book one in D.C., and book two in London). Any longer and I think they're harder to plot and pace; any shorter, and they're too light-weight.

#7. Publish the book. UCOD is done--it comes out in July (can be pre-ordered beginning in late April on www.Amazon.com). Book two will be shopped around when I get reviews and sales from book one. As for book three, and those few great chapters near the end of it--well, you might have to wait until 2008 to read them.

Unless you know me personally, in which case I might let you take a peek--but only if you promise to buy it in hardback when it finally comes out!

"Bond: James Bond." Probably the most memorable recurring line in film history, the actor saying it has changed yet again--with some controversy.

Daniel Craig is the new Bond, and personally, I see him as being TERRIFIC. Not okay, not good, but GREAT. Anyone who has seen "Layer Cake" knows his intensity and screen presence is up to the task. He's a blond, but this doesn't bother me much--I've never been one to believe that Bond has to be a certain type (hell, Connery is a Scotsman through and through, and Lazenby was Australian, Moore English, etc.), and am confident he will not only pull it off, but excel in doing so.

The other bit of good news deals with the subject of the next film. It's Casino Royale, the original Bond story, and it's going to be done, in my opinion, better than any Bond film in the last 20 years. Part of the reason I wrote the first Apparite book was to recapture that early Bond Cold War feel, when the books seemed more realistic (like From Russia With Love) and the character a real person. The films, I think, have strayed from the tense to the ridiculous and, basically, I had given up on them when I heard of Royale's upcoming release, which has me excited to see a Bond film for the first time in years.

I group the Bond films like this:

The Great:
From Russian With Love
Goldfinger

The Very Good:
On Her Majesty's Secret Service (always under-rated, as is Lazenby)
Dr. No
For Your Eyes Only (rating reduced only by an awful musical score by Bill Conti)

The Enjoyable:
The Man With the Golden Gun
The Spy Who Loved Me
Octopussy

The Somewhat Enjoyable But Utterly Ridiculous:
You Only Live Twice
Live and Let Die

The Basically Not Very Good At All But It's Bond So People Went Anyway:
All the rest except Moonraker.

The Absolutely Dreadful:
Moonraker. Oddly, the book is great, but the film is the worst of all. Almost unwatchable.

I'll catch Royale when it comes out and post a review. Unless I'm missing the mark, it should be a good one. For now, though, here's my rating of the Bond actors:

#1 Connery--the original. Tough, cool, and could pull off the one-liners.
#2 Dalton--I liked him; I thought he had a harder edge than anyone but Connery.
#3 Lazenby--Only had the one chance, but it resulted in a very strong film. If you haven't seen it, you will be shocked at how good On Her Majesty's Secret Service really is.
#4 Brosnan--Pretty good, but he always had a "TV" kind of feel for me. I think he was great as Thomas Crown, however.
#5 Moore--his breezier portrayal of Bond almost killed the series (though the fault was not his own, I believe), and resulted in some of the really poor outings (like Moonraker), though he shone in Eyes Only, which was his strongest effort.

Where will Craig be? Honestly, I think he may end up tied with Connery at the top. I really do.

Disney's Magic Kingdom and Epcot: It's hard to believe that the Magic Kingdom is 35 yrs old, and Epcot about 25! Seems like yesterday that I remember Epcot opening, but then again, so does my high school graduation. The first thing about the Magic Kingdom is that EVERYONE is there--though luckily not all at once. Get there early, and you can ride 4 rides in an hour without a line (which we did). Get there late, and, to quote Hoyt Axton in Gremlins talking about the "Bathroom Buddy" shaving kit, "You...are...in...trouble!" Same goes for Epcot. Get there early, and step right onto "Soaring: Feel the True Sensation of Air-Sickness as You Sail Over That State That Might Fall into the Ocean!" Get there late, and spend all your time perusing beer steins in the Germany pavilion.

As far as the meals go, I discovered that Disney is terrific if you love chicken strips.

With their expanded ethnic menus at Epcot, you can get sushi, sashimi--and chicken strips. Or veal parmigiana, fettucine alfredo--and chicken strips. Schnitzel, spaetzle-- and chicken strips. Cripes, if Disney had a whore-house they'd probably also serve chicken strips.

The food at Epcot needs some authentic spicing-up--and that's all I'll say about that. The best place to hang out, I found, was in the England pavilion holding a cold pint of Bass. The "Rose and Crown" is a pretty damned good imitation of a real English pub--if ONLY they had Samuel Smith's bitter on hand! Or Adnams. But Bass is still good, even if it wasn't a "Real Ale" (meaning "Cask Conditioned").

Oddly, Epcot was the biggest disappointment to me--and I had expected to like it the most; as for the Magic Kingdom, we basically rode the hell out of it and got more than our money's worth. We actually ran out of rides we were interested in, so my oldest daughter did the Indy track three times, my youngest daughter and I did Big Thunder Mtn Railroad three times, Splash Mtn three times, that dull Snow White ride, Stitch's Soporific Escape, and even did the "Carousel of Progress."

Oh my God, I almost forgot about the Carousel of Progress. It's an original Walt Disney ride from the '50's, narrated by Jean Shepherd (the film The Christmas Story's narrator), and tracks a family from 1900 to 1920 to 1950 to 1980--oh, I can't remember exactly when, and why not? Because some idiot kept standing as the theater-carousel rotated, causing the ride-wardens to interrupt the narration every 30 seconds to cry out "RIDERS OF THE CAROUSEL OF PROGRESS PLEASE REMAIN SEATED AT ALL TIMES THANK YOU" and then the narration would resume.

So the ride went like this:

(Jean Shepherd): "Say, life sure is easier since we got this new-fangled ice box! Only needs five pounds of ice, and keeps the milk RIDERS OF THE CAROUSEL OF PROGRESS PLEASE REMAIN SEATED AT ALL TIMES DURING THIS ATTRACTION THANK YOU and grandma doesn't have to get out the sweeper since they invented that new RIDERS OF THE CAROUSEL OF PROGRESS WE REMIND YOU NOT TO STAND OR WALK DURING THIS RIDE FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY THANK YOU hey Jimmy, didn't I see you standing next to one of them motor-cars the other day? It beats me how anyone RIDERS OF THE CAROUSEL OF PROGRESS PLEASE REMAIN SEATED FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY THANK YOU and what do you think of our new electric streetlamp?"

Needless to say, a few of us questioned the name "The Carousel of PROGRESS" since this attraction went nowhere fast.

Back to Epcot. The fun of that place isn't the fake villages, or that horribly addictive "Canada--oh Canada! (Can-aa-da!)" song in the Canadian pavilion--no, it's talking with the people from other countries who work there. In Moracco, we talked with our waiter for some time; he wrote our kids' names in Arabic in their autograph books (more on those awful things in another post), and showed us a great time. In Norway, we talked with a waitress whose boyfriend is from Albia, Iowa; and in Germany with our Oktoberfest waitress from the former East Germany. Best of all for a soccer fan like me was the long conversation I had with one of the Brit shopworkers about the Premiere League and upcoming World Cup. Anyone who doesn't talk with these pleasant, engaging young people is missing more than half the fun. They're actually, in a way, missing the point of the whole place (for example--if you ask the Canadian girls at the film entrance, they'll sing their national anthem. Try it--I did!). Best of all, that part of Disney is free.

Enough Disney. My next post, I promise, will be about spies. Maybe even my opinion of the next James Bond.

Disney's Animal Kingdom is first-rate; it was my favorite of the parks. There's a real sense of Casablanca-ish Hollywood to it, but the 'authentic artificiality' of it is part of its charm. In this case, the beauty, not the devil, is in the details--the fake placards and ads on the walls; the deliberate grunginess of the street sign printing; the deliberate cracking of the concrete.

It's all an illusion, of course, right down to the 'Safari' one takes--made to feel like a real trip through the savanna, one finds out later that they call the animals in each night--but as an illusion it's absolutely tops.

Two rides top all: Kali River Rapids, which is as drenching as advertised (my shoes never did dry out until we returned home--TO IOWA!), and Expedition Everest. It's too bad that most people are only interested in the thrills of them, because those wonderful details--the paintings and accoutrements that surround you in line, for example--are half the joy to the careful observer.

Naturally, the shows (the 'Lion King' variant, the 'Bug's Life' variant) are quite good, and children love all the animals, but for adults, this park has more charm than the others. And afterwards, if you can, eat at the ethnic buffet at Animal Kingdom lodge's 'Boma' restaurant. Best ethnic food in all of Disney, IMO. Fighting over their soups could start WWIII.

And then there's the ride called 'Dinosaur.' Well, not every Disney idea is a winner. 'Dinosaur' used to be called 'Countdown to Extinction,' until recently changed, but I feel it more accurately should be called. 'Getting Jerked Around in the Dark.' It's loud, abrasive, not overly clever, and will scare the stool out of any kid under seven and the urine out of women who sometimes pee if they cough or laugh too hard.

Teenagers, I am sure, will love it.

Regardless, there's a lot to recommend about AK, and if Disney wants to REALLY go whole hog on it, here's all they need to do:

1. Give more photo ops on the 'Kilimanjaro Safari.' Stop the truck a minute--let us take ONE non-shaky picture! After all, that's what happens on a REAL safari. However, if anyone is dying to see two dozen blurry photos of elephants, cheetahs, okapi, and the elusive bongo, then I'm your man.

2. The park needs two more high quality thrill rides. Expedition Everest is terrific--likely the best ride in all of Disney right now--but the park still needs another one or two to compete, thrill-wise, with the others.

3. Open a couple of really spicy, authentic ethnic restaurants. Make one Indian--with spicy Vindaloos a specialty--and the other Ethiopian. As popular as 'Boma' is, I'm confident they would be well-patronised in one of the actual theme parks.

4. Never EVER get rid of 'Fast-Pass.' Don't even think about it. In fact, add it to MORE attractions if possible. I know it doesn't fit in with the other suggestions, but I felt compelled to say it.

A word of advise for any Disney park: you always get twice as much food as any normal person needs. We ate lunch at 'Dinosaurus' (translation: Fancy McDonald's) and in addition to four cheeseburgers, we got about 54,000 French Fries in our combo meals. Order one combo meal for two people and split them in half--saves $, save kilocalories, and saves trips to the bathroom.

More on trips to the bathroom later.