Testing the water

I'm going to wait a little longer before I decide how to explain India. It is really a fascinating place, especially the Shik people who live in this area.

I'm researching other modes of transport at the moment because I don't want to take trains, or buses, and the bicycle is just too slow to see India in the time I want to travel here.

I stayed at the golden temple for one night. Heres a link.

http://www.sgpc.net/golden-temple/index.asp

I'll post more signifigantly in the next 3-5 days.

Bye bye bicycle

5 days on bicycle from Islmasbad to Lahore.

Day 1- Dave and I decided to travel with a french couple who had been cycling for seven months from France. After some discussion we decided to use the highway, because the road was better, straighter, and flatter. The distance was 300km, and we set out in the morning of Friday the 26th. The first day was good. The french couple traveled slower than dave and I were used to. This coupled with the good roads made everything pretty easy. At around 3pm we saw a cricket stadium and decided to see if we could find some people to play cricket with. A cricket team was practicing and we got to work on "pitching" and "batting". Afterwards we met a field hockey team who let us play with them. Field Hockey is one of the more difficult sports I've tried. After we were all finished and about to look for a camping spot before it got dark, the head of the cricket team offered to let us sleep in the stadium building. This was a kind offer and we accepted. After dark, just before we were to set up beds, the head of the cricket team came in and informed us that the owner of the stadium was not ok with us satying here and we had to leave. He apologized greatly and said there was a hotel nearby where we could stay for free because he was friends with the owner. After a short ride to the "hotel" (which was closed due to repairs) we stashed our bikes and put our stuff in someones messy room. The person who we were told was the owner was in fact a young man who was the caretaker while the hotel was under construction. He made us a free meal, which was very good. Completetly exhausted from sports/cycling, we went to sleep. An hour later we heard a knock at the door and in burst the head of the cricket team brandished a bright red shirt that read USA. If we hadn't been in a Muslim country, I would have sworn that he was completely drunk. He walked into the room with two friends of his, and insisted on shaking everyones hand again. He repeatedly told us all we were his "brothers". We were all shocked and confused by his sudden entrance, but when that wore off, we began trying to drop hints that he should leave so we could go to bed. After a while, we finally just told him to leave, locked the door and went back to sleep.

Day 2- At 5am there was a knock at the door and somone was saying "Robert, Robert, you need to get up". After struggling with myself for a moment I finally got to the door and opened it. The caretaker of the hotel was there and he informed me that his boss was coming back and that we were in his room. He then told me we all had to leave before his boss got to the hotel or he might loose his job as caretaker. Grudgingly, and with a case of Deja-vu (Dave and me twoo weeks earlier), we got up and got ready to leave. The day was normal, although grappling with sleep deprevation and Ramadan was difficult. That night we arrived at a fried fish stand near a river and decided to stop for the night. The fried fish was good and we didn't see an black cobras, which we were told were common in the area we were camping in.

Day 3- We cycled through another uneventful day and ended at a closed hotel that the owner now lived in. He allowed us to camp on his lawn, and invited us to dinner. His friends were a colorful group of people, and the food was excellent.

Day 4- Things started to look more and more like India as we left the closed hotel. Also, people on vehicles became increasingly aggressive. This got to be a real problem as we were forced off the roads, and bumped multiple times by cars, motorcycles, and other cyclists, trying to ask us questions. Cities became more prevelent, and later in the evening we even started to have kids on bikes trying to grab at us. These factors made this day, by far, the most stressful. As the day drew to a close we began to have serious problems finding a hotel or a safe camping spot, but got very lucky when a man randomly asked us if we wanted to stay at his house. He was a ceramics engineer and his house was the nicest I've seen in Pakistan. His wive and daughter were very kind (although his daughter had some major discipline problems) and dinner was again provided for us. The food was excellent and after some questions about Lahore, we all went directly to bed.

Day 5- We woke up early to say goodbye to the tile engineer as he headed off to work. We had an excellent breakfast, and then packed and set off for Lahore. We took the day slow becasue we only had 40km. At 2pm we reached Lahore and worked our way through some of the most intense traffic I have ever seen. I imagine that Lahore is similair to India in relation to the roads. While I made it to the hotel unscathed, I was hit by someones side mirror after I got off my bike. People truly drive here like they don't care if you live or die and I think the most dangerous position to be in is a padestrian. Our hotel pleasant, and the rest of the day was uneventful except for the fact we found a larger selection of better food than we had seen in Islmasbad.

Day 6- I just sold my bicycle. I got the equivalent of 75USD for it meaning I lost 30USD between buying and selling. I put the bike through alot so I was suprised to get so much for it. Tommarow I take a bus to the India border, cross, and then head to the closest major city.

Everything is going well. I'm very tired of dealing with Ramadan and many of the other restrictions of a Muslim State i.e. no shorts, women in public, etc. Although, Lahore is quite different from the rest of Pakistan when it comes to women. I've seen a number of women since I got here yesterday which is shocking because I actually saw their faces. The full body black coverings became very common in Islamasbad, and before that woman at least covered their hair. This has been annoying during hot days seeing woman completely covered in black fabric. It must be horrible. The only thing that has really got me through Paksiatn feeling ok is by pretending that the Pakistan people are in fact training an army of female ninjas instead of oppressing women.

Glad to be be here, glad to be leaving. Hope youre all well.

How many prophets?

So, I just found out that my luck is stretched thinner than I thought. The night I left Gilgit I met a man from Holland who was just arriving. Gilgit was under lockdown by the Pakistan army when we were there with a curfew at 6pm. Well, today Dave ran into the man from Holland who had just arrived in Islmasbad. He said that the day after the we left the earthqauke hit and no one was able to go anywhere. Then, the day after the earthqauke Sunni and Shiite fighting erupted. He almost got caught in crossfire running back to the hotel. The fighting became so intense that gun battles could be heard all day for the next 5 days, and no one could leave the hotel. Eventually, everybody was forced to call their embassy and on the fifth day an armoured bus arrived and took everyone away. One day difference and that would have been my experience in Gilgit. I almost stayed that extra day because I was so sick when I left. Also, today I saw a Shiite protest of the violence in Gilgit. It was intense, because I asked some people what was going on and they just told me how much they wanted to kill those "good-for-nothing Shiite protesters". I left quickly. The earthqauke has really brought ought some intense stuff that seems to have been seething under the surface of everyday life here. I will be happy to leave. Bye.

Auuhhh Putian!!!

When you've been waiting in a conservative Muslim state duing Ramadan for almost two weeks, you start to do some crazy things. For instance 2 nights ago I decided, what the hell, I'll go get a mohawk. I already have painted nails so why not go all out. I was very bored, so off I went to the barber shop. I was hoping that I would be able to do the cutting. This is because I've only trusted cutting my hair to myself and a select few over the last 5 years, and the thought of trying to describe a mohawk to a barber in Pakistan seemed like begging for disaster.

When I found a place that cut hair I walked in and took a seat. When I was called up, it was quickly made clear that the owner of the shop would cut my hair and I had nothing to worry about. So, I caved quickly and gave up on the idea of cutting my hair myself. There was a man who spoke both Uurdu and English willing to translate exactly what I wanted, which was reassuring. So I drew some pictures and explained no less than three times what I wanted making sure that the translater understood. As I turned my head to the side and the haircut began, I realized the barber had just started shaving my head bald. I pulled back and asked him to stop which caused him to look at me puzzled and say, "this short?". I sighed and said well, "I guess its too late now". So he proceeded to shave half my head bald, which was fine, but not exactly what I had wanted. As the haircut wained on, I realized that he was not following any directions I had given him and was now cutting a ridge along my hairline that looked like Jak-O-Laterns teeth. At this point I'd had enough and asked him to stop. This turned into a struggle in which he actively tried to corner me in the barber shop. It was unconfortable at best. Before finally escaping I coaxed him into shaving my beard into a moustache, which, overall, added a dynamic flair to my haircut... or at least drew attention away from it.

Anyways, I shaved off the moustache this morning, and am getting used to the haircut. Maybe when a little of my hair grows back I'll take another shot at getting a mohawk, but until then, I'll have to get used to the stares. Here's a before and after picture, and I also added a picture to my last blog entry.

More NEGLECTED STORIES (echoing voice)

While in Chegdu in the Sichuan province of China I stayed at the Dragon Town Youth Hostel. One night while searching for some friends I was eagerly appraoched by a young chinese man who stopped me dead in my track by saying "do you want dinner". I didn't quite know how to respond to the question, so I stuttered, with my first instinct being to say no. In the moment I did realize that I was pretty famished and that it would be nice to eat. "What do you mean" I asked back. He then, over a period of time, explained to me he was an english student looking for a native english speaker to envite to a dinner. The attendants would all be english students, and I would just be expected to interact with people and, wait for it, I would get a FREE meal. After a quick risk assesment of the situation we were off. We soon met up with the young mans english teacher who explained better what would be asked of me as we shuffled onto a bus. After a tedious 30 minute ride we entered a large park with what looked liked a stadium on the far edge. The two led me to a small building in the middle of the park that looked like it had absolutely nothing to do with food. This would later turned out to be true. In front of the building was a small table with 5 chinese people of varying age and gender siting around. As we walked up I was asked to take a seat and if I would like any tea (Cha) to which I replied yes. The tea was scolding in true chinese form and burning my tongue was the highpoint of the next 10 minutes. I quickly realized that the level of English around the table was extremely low and that everyone was absolutely terrified that I might try to talk to them. I remembered back to my high school French class when I would be asked questions I didn't understand, and had absolutely no idea how to reply to. Feeling guilty that, I wasn't engaging people, and at the same time, that I might engage someone who was panicking, I waited desperetly for food. Eventually the teacher censed that food might lighten moment and announced that we should eat. The table and chairs were taken inside the park building and we proceeded outdoor resturaunt. When we reached the table the number of students swelled to 10 and some of them began demanding photos. One very tall chinese girl claimed that she needed photographic proof that there were men taller than her. As much as I hated moments like that, it worked to lighten the mood and eventually people began to open up and ask me questions.

Food was eaten, jokes were made, and an hour later it was getting dark. People around the table began to leave until the group had shrunk to 5. The end to the event seemed close, when one of the students, an older Chinese woman, leaned over and handed me a sheet of paper. Before I had time to even glance at the poorly scrawled english hand writting she asked me if I could help he pronounce the sentences. As a looked down the page I had to do a mental double take. The first sentence read "Viagra is a drug used to treat erectile disfunction". I looked down the page to find that the first sentence wasn't nearly as fantastic as the one about intro-utero devices, or the instructions on how to use lube in cases where sexual intercourse was "stressed". I looked over at the older woman who had handed me the paper and realized she seemed a bit aggitated. She had, I realized, been waiting the whole night for a moment when everyone was distracted. "Well" I said as I cleared my throat, and I proceeded to read the first sentence slowly stressing all of the difficult parts. There was a pause and I could see nothing but confusion on her face. So, I asked her if she knew what erectile disfunction was? She shook her head and so I launched into a very straight-foward, but graphic (using some ASL signs), description of what erectile dysfucntion was and how it was treated with Viagra. As I described more and more I could see her face get redder and redder. At this point the remaining students were starting listen in. When I finished talking she immediatly grabbed the paper out of my hands and said "thank you". At this point she was very aggitated, so I didn't ask if she needed me to read any other sentences.

Later that night I talked to an engineer who worked for a car company and ended up giving me a ride home in his company car. This was much preferable to the bus in theory, but turned out not to be the case in practice seeing that his friend, who he was also driving home, was a chain smoker. In the end, the food was good/free, and the night was memorable. I would have been greedy to ask for more.


Its fascinating, Islamasbad for the most part faired better than almost any other place hit by the qauke. For this reason I keep forgetting that there a devestating natural disaster that just claimed a number of lives. I feel really stupid when obvious effects of the qauke confuse me. For instance 4 days after the qauke I noticed a signifigant influx of people begging on the street. This was very confusing for me at first, until I slapped myself in the freaking head, they were, of course, refugees. This again happened with bottled water which became exceedingly hard to find until I realized that it was all be shipped to areas that were desperate for aid in the form of clean water. Really, if it was not for the news, I would never have even been aware that the earthqauke of any really signifigance.

Everything is good. I can't wait to get my Indian visa so I can move out of Pakistan. Its been a wonderful visit, but I'm ready to leave.

I added a picture of the event. Sadly the older woman hadn't moved next to me yet, so she's not in the picture.

Dave's not here man...

A couple nights ago I was sitting in a dorm room at the foriegner camprground in Islamasbad reading when a man entered. He was relativly normal looking except for his unkempt hair. He said "hello" and began making his bed. After a brief moment he turned to me and said "got any hash". I looked up from my book and said "sorry, I don't do drugs". It was this point I really started to notice him twitching and scratching his skin vigerously. After a moment he informed he that he didn't beleive that I didn't have hash and he wanted some. After some convincing he asked for music CDs becasue he wanted to listen to music and the whole situation repeated itself with me informing that I didn't have any and him not beleiving me. The paranioa really was the final straw in making me think he was on speed. He then proceeded to bombard me with how horrible the world was and how horrible his life was in an obvious sympathy fishing trip so I just got up and left. That night I slept in the tent with Dave and didn't go back to the dorm except to get my stuff. The next day, the now very apparently crazy man from Argentina, who had been living in Goa(in India) for the last 15 years, made his rounds throughout the campground quickly alienting everyone there with his extremely arrogant and negative attitude. Later that day he walked around the campground with a large stick holding it like a club and looking very aggitated. This worried a family traveling by bus enough to keep their kids near the rest of the day and everbody away from him. The next day, he approached me just as it was getting dark and began talking to me again. He was extremely insistant that we talk about sex, which I wouldn't indulge him in. He then started asking me if I'd been sexually harrased by men in Pakistan and I finally told him he needed to leave. This seemed to really suprise him and he stood up turned to me and said, "you could die". He began to walk away and I asked "are you threatening me" to which he replied "your sick, you could die". At this point I was getting pretty worried and some seperate confrontations other campers had had brought everything to a boiling point. The next day after he screamed at a german man that he was a Nazi (becasue of his nationality) the whole campground banned together to get him kicked out along with the signifigant amount of drugs he seemed to be stockpiling in the dorm room. The whole situation didn't go entirely well and he ended up sneaking back into the campground that night and sleeping in an recently emptied dorm room.

This would have been the end of the story except that today while in line surrounded by armed gaurds and barbed wired fences at the Indian embassy I was talking to another traveller and out of nowhere the Argentinan man popped up next to me. He immediatly began screaming at me about trying to get him ejected from the campground. It took me a couple of minutes to calm him down and tell him that if he wanted to talk about it he could wait until we were in a better place. When he finally calmed down he immediatly tried to hop in front of me in line (which I had been waiting in for nearly an hour) telling the man at the office window I said it was ok. That was the last straw for me and with the help of some people in line we forced him back as he yelled loudly. A Pakistan man leaned towards me and asked if I was friends with the crazy man, to which I shook my head vigerously. After some time, the Argentinan left and I havent seen him since, although I imagine that there will be another confrontation to which I am not looking foward.

This situation has made me realize that I have met at least 150 travelers since I left 4 months ago and for the most part they have been very easy going kind people. This seems to be a rare case, but also worries me about India. Its seem that there is a pretty signifigant group of foriegners who have lived a good deal of time in India, or try to, persuing an almost cultish drug ladden hippy utopia. Truly, it is now a goal to avoid anyone like the Argentinan, who made feel really unconfortable for the first time in a long, long, while.

Also, I've been spending quite a bit of time at the campground where there are a lot of foriegners. When I got my visa to Pakistan I thought that I would be in many heated, passionate conversations with Pakistanies about American foriegn policy. I was wrong. Everytime I say I'm American, people tell me that they recognize that American people don't want innocent blood on their hands, and that they understand that the government, and current the administration don't neccisarily reflect the will of all Americans. This has been nice to hear. On the other had I have found myself in a number of intense conversations, and having to overcome a large number of assumptions about the U.S. and myself in the campground with foriegners. Its funny that all the people who are the most worked up, angry, and attacking me for my nationality are Europeans. I'm getting pretty tired of it, but until I get to leave Islamasbad its pretty much what I have to deal with... and possible crazy people from Argentina.

The more I hear about the earthqauke the more I realize how much it has devistated this country. It was extremely lucky I was in Islamasbad when it hit for two reasons. One, the Kerekorum will be closed possibly until summer seeing that the slides wont be cleared before it snows, and two, if I had been in any of the stone walled guesthouses that I had stayed in before I reached Islamasbad, there is a good chance it would have collapsed on me. One day difference is all it would have taken.

I hope your all well. I'll write again within a week.

The shake down

Ok, where do I start? I think I left-off in Karimibad after the trek.

Dave and I set off to Gilgit and the Swiss went to Passu. The ride to Gilgit was fascinating because there was a visible change in the people. The ride was 100km and around the 50km mark, people stopped smiling so much, and there was a lot more staring without any greetings. Prior to reaching Gilgit we had heard stories about Sunni and Shiite fighting. One group of travelers we had met saw somone get shot and killed. That had been almost 4 weeks earlier, and tensions had be forecfully relieved. The fighting which killed more than 15 people was supposedly initiated by people in small rural villages around the area. This made entering Gilgit very interesting because as we passed through small towns the first question we were asked was were we Muslim. This was a little unconfortable but at no point did we feel as though we were in any danger. Gilgit was the first gritty city in Pakistan that I visited, but it also was a good place to get some much needed supplies. This was a little hard after 6pm though, because there was a curfew and the city fell under martial law due to the recent fighting.

Dave and I planned to leave by bus seeing that there were many stories of teenagers hurling large rocks a cyclists between Gilgit and Islamasbad. This became problematic when, the day we were supposed to leave, I became very ill. It turned out that the "drinkable fresh spring water" the hotel provided was in fact just tap water and not the best thing to be ingesting. The tickets were changed and I spent the whole day miserable and in bed.

The next day, still sick, we left for Islamasbad. This was a difficult day because I was sick, the bus ride was 16 hours, it was Ramadan (so people got weird when we ate or drank), and I've never been on a bus that drove so roughly through high moutain roads. This made me sick, car sick, hungry, and tired. At on point during the day I fell asleep briefly, and woke up to find what I thought was water on the floor of the bus. Thinking nothing of it I closed my eyes again but moments later felt somthing hit my foot. When I looked up I realized somebody across the isles was in fact vomiting on my right foot. It turns out I just have horrible luck with transportation and people puking.

At 11:30 that night,completely waisted, Dave and I arrived in Rawlipindi and decided that we would just forget about trying to cycle to a hotel (becasue Islamasbad was 6km away) and instead we would just sleep at one near the bus station. After some haggling we found a pretty crummy room, but, that fit our needs. We slept for about one hour before there was a heavy pounding at the door. After moment a voice said "The police here, you must leave". After we stumbled to the door and talked to hotel people we learned that they were not allowed to accept foriegners and that the police were forcefully evicting us from the hotel room at 1am. This was beyond imagination after such a hard day but there was nothing to do so, completely unprepared for night riding we rode 6km to Islamasbad. This was very surreal and really unexplainable at such a level of fatigue save to say we were a little crazy and singing most of the way. We ended up staying in an over-priced hotel that night. The saving grace of the hotel was that it had a 2 o'clock check-out time, so at least we were able to sleep in. The next day we went to a campground for foriegners, and have been there ever since preparing to apply for Indian visa's and extensions.

Yesterday morning I was siting in the campground talking to Dave when I felt the first inklings of the earthqauke. I realize how desensitized I've become to them because everyone freaked out while I just continued talking. Really, even though the earqauke that hit was such a high magnitude, it never felt like it topped 5.0. I don't know why this was but the damage it inflicted on Islamasbad and the surrounding areas speaks otherwise. I've been told that the Kerekorum was shut down due to the massive amount of landslides that the earthqauke caused. This means if I had waited two more days before leaving, I would have been stuck traveling midway on the road to Islamasbad or completely unable to make the journey for maybe up to a week.

Everything is a traveling comedy show of errors.

Hope your all well. Bye.

Just checking-in

I'm ok, if anybody was curious about the earthqauke. In fact, I was really suprised that the earthqauke reached 7.6, it felt more like it was in the 4 range.

I will post my next blog entry when I have more time.The internet had been so slow since I left Karimibad that usually I have to invest 30 minutes before I am able to start writing and then there are the random power outages which have already claimed a blog entry.

Bye for now.

Neglected stories

While walking in Bejing China I found myself behind an conservative looking older woman, maybe in her early 60's. She was walking at a good pace, and really there was nothing out of the ordinary, so I thought nothing of it. After a couple of minutes we neared a subway station and were forced to the right on a narrow area of sidewalk due to a stairway to an underground street crossing. This area was wide enough for two to pass each other going opposite directions, but not with much room to spare. As we entered this area the older woman was walking a short distance ahead of me and this is when I noticed three very attractive young women coming in the opposite direction. The women were in there early twenties and walking in a single file line becasue the sidewalk was so narrow. The two girls infront were giggling/talking and the third girl in the rear was looking out towards the road. Then, just as all three girls and the older woman were about to pass each other I watched somthing very strange happen out of the corner of my eye. The older woman, swivled her hips and very adeptly sucker punched the last young woman. The punch was impressive and the young girl, eyes bulging, hunched over and put one hand on the ground to stop from falling flat on her face. The older woman, didn't miss a beat. If I hadn't seen her throw the punch the situation would have been completely unreadable to me. Immediatly the other two girls turned around to help their friend who was now gasping for air. Words were exchanged and one of the young girls, realizing what had happend yelled, somthing at the old lady who turned her head slightly to the left and made a "tsk" sound without slowing down. I followed the older woman all the way to the subway station and at no time did she look agitated, unhappy, or angry. I have no idea what was going on in this situation, but it was a fascinating thing to see.

I want to upload pictures, but its impossible in Karimabad, so maybe in Gilgit.

No K2, only clouds.

Day 1- As momentum for the trek began to build, the group I would be traveling with swelled to four. Two people from Switzerland (Martin, and Ivan), One from New Zeland (Robert), and then Dave and myself. We were all about the same age except for Robert who was 53. We hired a jeep and at 4pm and headed to Hopa, which was the jumping off point for the trek. After about 10km we met a fresh landslide which was uncrossable by jeep. There were many people running around, and a short line of cars at the base of the huge pile of dirt and rocks that used to be the road. One of the people scrambling to pull things of the top of a jeep said there was a bus on the other side and we could ride it to Hopa. Hopeful we trudged through the slide with our packs knee deep in loose dirt. On the other side we came across the "bus" which was in fact a small van and swarming with people. After working out some logistics, we set of in the van, with 40 people inside, hanging of the back, or sitting on top of the massive amount of luggage tied to the roof. The high moutain roads for the next 35 km were pretty exiting. We arrived in Hopa at dark, and ended up staying at the Hopa Hilton, which didn't quite live up to its name.

Day 2-We hired a guide to get us across the two glaciers and made the crossing early in the morning. It was simplier than we expected with heavily used trails made by locals. After the crossing we followed the outside of a moraine to a small goat/ sheep hearding area where the trail began to climb steeply. After some discussion we decided to go up to some Goat Herding huts near Rush Lake. The climb was relentlessly steep and the altitude gain became a huge factor. At the begining of the day we started at about 3000m and ended the day at 4400m. The last 100m became even more intense as a snow storm moved in. I've never treked through the snow and I don't think I will ever try to do it again... at least not in sneakers. We set up camp at the goat huts and spent a misserably cold night above the snow line.

Day 3-The snow cleared, the sun came out and we decided to push on to the Rush Pharie Peak. After about an hour we reached Rush Lake, dropped out packs and headed for the now visible Rush Pharie Peak. The last climb became almost unbearable as we topped 5000m in altitude. Less than 100m from the peak, Dave and I turned around. Niether of us could feel our toes, and the climbing had become too difficult with a thin layer of snow over loose rocks. The wheather was also threating and the peaks that were supposed to be visible at that point were all obscured by clouds. Robert, Martin, and Ivan all made it to the top. Getting back to Rush Lake lake was quick and we decided to descend down to 3500m to sleep that night. The descent took an hour and a half. Breathing became easy and the temperature increased dramaticly. That night was signifigantly more confortable than the one spent above the snow line. The next day we treked back down, across the glaciers and through Hopa down to Nygar. We scared children and turned into a small parade as the locals followed us through the town showing us shortcuts through fields and peoples backyards. When we reached Nygar I had an intense bargaining session, that included a stairing contest, before we agreed on a price to bring uthe group back to the hotel. The landslide had been cleared and we reached Kariminabad by nightfall.

I think what I learned from the experience is that climbing moutains that high is not something I enjoy doing but was great experience to have. Also doing a 5 day trek in 3 is a little insane.

Caroline is fine. She immediatly found a new person to travel with and is staying at the same hotel I am at the moment. The northern territories are safe enough for a woman to trek, cycle, or bus alone.

Ramadan is coming. It will be interesting to have to deal with it when I get to Islamasbad. Some shop owners are already talking about closing down for a month.

There's always more, but I'll save it for later. Cheers.