Almaty, Kazakhstan
We awake in a Kazakhstan farm field, sneezing uncontrollably.
“Pass me some more grade-D toilet paper,” I ask Andrew.
It’s an inauspicious start to our dip back into Kazakhstan. Nonetheless, my spirits pick up when we reach the booming metropolis of Almaty. Construction’s everywhere, and the buildings are glass-covered and God-awful.
“They’re totally ripping off McDonald’s,” Mims says, pointing to a sign advertising Westburger. Its symbol is the golden arches, flipped 180 degrees to create a W. There’s also a place called Coffee Shop Pinocchio, with a Starbucks-like logo. Both establishments are inside a gleaming mall. We’ve been sleeping in fields for so long that the lure of antiseptic consumerism and processed food is too strong to resist.
“It feels like I’ve come home,” Mims says.
The mall is a multilevel wonderland loaded with escalators and security guards. Several of the latter follow our ragtag posse as we walk to the food court to sample Westburger’s finest.
Counter girls are wearing hats and clothes emblazoned with the W. I order a desiccated-looking cheeseburger wrapped in cellophane by pointing at it.
“With fries?” the counter girl asks.
My meal’s served on a plastic tray. Upon unwrapping my burger, the differences between Westburger and McDonald’s become apparent. The burger in front of me is no paper-thin patty; it’s lamb, topped with pickled cucumbers, tomato, lettuce, and a creamy red smear.
“It’s just like everything else we’ve been eating, but placed in burger form,” Mims says. The fries are crispy and crazy salty, sprinkled with a red powder that tastes like paprika. The meal does share one similarity with McDonald’s: It leaves my stomach queasy and regretful.
I wash that away with a steaming Americano from Coffee Shop Pinocchio, whose green color scheme is reassuring. The blast of caffeine is pure and strong.
“So this is what it feels like to be awake,” Mims says, sipping blissfully like it’s vintage wine.
I saw a “Carlbucks” in New Mexico. Same green circle. It caught my eye, but I was already caffeined out, so I didn’t stop in.
I am absolutely stunned.
I don’t know where this falls in the gap between constructive criticism and outright criticism but you have to be the only person on this site who would submit a journal entry on the road between London and Mongolia with so little to say. You sound like a homesick child at sleepaway camp.
Maybe you should try reviewing candy bars or new breakfast cereals.
Listen Josh, I have never been to Kazakhstan and I may not ever have the chance to go, so you know better than I do the peculiarities of the place but honestly, for the sake of those of us who are not in your shoes, buck up! Have fun! I think that any rational person will take it for granted that American food is in short supply in Almaty so hitch up your Buster Browns, grab a bottle of pepto and dive in to the organ meat, pal.
If you can only find some “weird” kababs or some “weird” local beverage or some “weird” fried bun with lamb and onions, then take comfort that in a few short weeks, you will be back to your insipid PBR.
I hope this is a one-off venture into travel/adventure journalism because it’s clear from the tone of your entries that you would rather be back in Brooklyn, moaning about how you barely survived not getting a McDonald’s hamburger in Kazakhstan.
Ernie — Josh has been on the road for about a month, blogging about it here. You’re looking at one post out of 34 so far, in which there have been many food triumphs — and some food disasters.
The whole series is here:
http://www.chow.com/mongol_rally
Hi Davina.
I realize that he has been on the road, I have read all the entries so I’m really writing in response to 34 posts out of 34, referencing “My big Russian mistake” with the “weird drink” comment and “No fat, no gristle” with the fried lamb/onion bun remark.
I would hesitate to categorize his food triumphs as “many.” The two most positive posts that come to mind are the one on how delicious the airplane food was and how nice it was to be able to drink beer ni a public park in England. I don’t figure those as eye-openers.
I’ve traveled. I’m sympathetic to missing the tastes of home and comfort foods but the overarching theme of these posts is one of misery in not being able to find conventional American tastes.
I guess my point in all this is that the writer isn’t establishing anything or shedding any new light on the food, culture or experience except that if you want to eat American food, avoid the Mongol Rally.
Not a real stunner there.
Then stop reading it Ernie. I, for one, am enjoying it. I think Josh has a sense of humor about him and he makes me smile. I’m not tuning in to find out all the culinary secrets. I’m tuning in to enjoy one man’s real experience. Why be a downer?