You will probably be surprised with these pictures from Macedonia.

They demonstrate more love for the place tham exceptional physical or beauty of the nature, but they sure are worth your while.

So, here is the link:

PICTURES FROM MACEDONIA.

Well, i'll try to popose you in the coming days illustrated blog posts, a relatively short clips. And the first one is a try-out, about the birthday today of my first grandchild, Christian Sebastian Gabriel Glaser, who is 11 today.

I will remove this once I have prepared the english sound  track.

It is best to see it on the full screen or monitor through Youtube.

Well, that is it.

To late to join the party, but next year I'll invite you on time.

I promis.

HERE IS THE YOUTUBE CLIP 11 YEARS CHRISTIAN

You need to slowly get in the mood, dear people.

Here is Diana Krall

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SABWU6im1do

Ana Kostovska , who had a diminutive name "Aneto" which denotes a "small, petite Ana" when she was in elementary school, a classmate of my son who then vowed to marry her one day, has turned actress. That is what her late father Dragi Kostovski, was in Macedonia: a renown theatre and film actor.

Only this morning somebody dug out that she was a fine singer.

Since I doubt that you will otherwise get a better picture about Macedonian pop, here you are with a link to one of Ana's numbers.

HERE IS A LINK TO ANA KOSTOVSKA'S YOUTUBE

If you do not know where to spend the three days between 30th of December 2009 and the 2nd of January 2010 then you may contemplate Istanbul, the European capital of culture 2010. The flight from Amsterdam (several daily take-offs) is nearly four hours but the service and the comfort Turkish Airlines provide makes the time, well, fly. Then comes the pleasure as a huge reward. If you have not been there - do not even question this suggestion. If your party can afford it - organize it for a bunch of friends.

Istanbul is NOT ONLY exotic. Istanbul is a miraculous, a pearl and place that outshines London and Berlin hands down.

The best part of this fable is that you can mingle with the super-rich and the poor while discovering joys and comforts, pleasures and sight unavailable elsewhere and set ib a most formidable crown of architectural splendor. Do not miss it for anything.

Up there I am on the top of the SwissOtel in Istanbul, a formidable location for discovering this amazing city and relax at the same time, like a sultan. In the background is the Bosphorus, in the far distance (16 min. most comfortable tram ride at € 0,7) is the Topkapi palace (here you have Dick Osseman's photos) with Aya Sophia and the Sultanahmet (Blue Mosque) complex.

You can be staying in an inexpensive hotel but still enjoy for drinks or food the superb palaces of the contemporary hotel empires. Forget the LeidsePlein midnight event in Amsterdam: they do not stage those great but small and short fireworks any more. The Leidseplein gathering has become a semi-drunk crowd not knowing what to do with itself. Mayor Cohen is not to blame: other before him had begun ruining the spirit Amsterdam exhaled during the evenings preceeding the Koninginedag and New Tear's day. Amsterdam is a big bore now.

My portal on Turkey (it is really huge) has a lot about Istanbul and is full with great info and opinion but pity you probably do not read Macedonian.

Thus: go to Istanbul.

Second choice: New York.

Third/Fourth: Pais or Rome.

Fifth: stay home.

The other day friends gather at my page on Facebook invited me to join a group "Against the law forbidding smoking in public places"  definitely against the ban on smoking in bars, inns, tea-houses, restaurants and the like. Despite being nearly a chain-smoker (that's me here on the right as a much younger journalist) I found the appeal useless: we all know that the ban is rather inconvenient for the nicotine enslaved population but it is obvious that the premises where smoking is forbidden provide incomparably healthier environment for all.

Since my Facebook page is mainly in Macedonian and for the Macedonian circle of friends, it struck me that these people scream against the ban at the top of their voices but do not utter a word about some other facts of life related to the tobacco production in Macedonia. Those facts are devastating and speak volumes about the population, the businesses, the government and the USAID that pours hundreds of millions of dollars there.

Macedonia, by the way, harvested 20,000 tons of tobacco this year, 25% more than the last harvest.

The people there would grab any debate about freedoms and so on and so forth and would attack (rightfully) the EU and the Greek intransigence and everything - but would stay hushed when brought face to face with these facts.

Macedonia does NOT produce:

1.  Tobacco for rolling cigarettes, like the Dutch have Drum, Van Nelle, Javanse Jongens and so forth - there isn't.

2.  Paper for rolled cigarettes like Mascotte, Rizla ... is non-existent 

3.  Gadgets for rolling cigarettes are not made 

4.  Cigarette holders - cigarettepijpje (silver, filigree, wood, amber, ivory) are not handcrafted

5.  Cigarette cases of gold, wood, leather - tabacchiera for cigarettes or tobacco for rolling

6.  Pipes for smoking are not produced

7.  Nargile, water pipe, hookah

8.  Tobacco for pipes is not cut

9.  Tin boxes for pipe tobacco are not made

10. Cigars are not rolled

11. Scissors and other tools for cutting cigar tips are not made

12. Humidifiers for tobacco or cigars are unknown items

13. Cigarette lighters are not produced

14. Matches, lucifers, are imported

But tobacco is grown to the tune of 20,000,000 kg.

Ever since I have begun smoking my slogan was that the country, its population, needs to engage into producing a vast variety of items related to its most popular crop, that the people of Macedonia need (if they want to exist and persist) finalize their commodities and the fruit of their labor has to be upgraded into a final consumable product. But no.

All they know is either sell stupid cigarettes after world brands and smuggle them abroad or sell the raw tobacco to monopolies  around the world. That is not the road to progress. If this country does lean to produce at least half of those 14 items listed above within 2-3 years, there is no point entering the EU.

Years ago, before I went to Urq to shed almost €1,500 for a Nikon D70s (which proved faulty) I collected various, expensive, now defunct photo-magazines like P/F and read everything there was helpful to become handy with the hardware needed to store images of places and faces I love. Since then many years have passed and time came for those glossies from 1993/1995 to go into the container for scrap paper. Before they are sent to China for recycling I decided to have a last look over their content.

So, one of  the P/F magazines featured Jersey Matuschka, a professional photographer, on its cover page. The lady has a different real name. she is baptized as . In Macedonian, Motchka means "urine" or "somebody (of a feminine gender) who wets its bed". In the other hand Matuschka sounds too sweet and motherly and rather profane so I will refer to her with the actual name, Motchka.

Miss Motchka is known to produce art photography of herself and her own body. I do not understand that much but it appears interesting for those who appreciate that kind of photography, nudes and like to display what they have. 

I also think that women who have lost one or both of theirs breasts to cancer would be interested in the art produced by Miss Motchka. I know something about this problem since I ride almost daily to the NKI-AVL where, after she was operated - my wife of 45 years is undergoing radiation treatment. I have also had a bunch of close women friends who have lost their breasts to cancer and have been deeply moved by their emotions of huge loss. 

When this young and most attractive woman had lost her right tit to cancer she had provided and The New York Times Magazine had published (for the first time in its history) a topless woman. The story was so moving that Mis Motchka was nominated for a Pulitzer prize.

It is a rather impressive portfolio.

Miss Motchka is a sort of a autobiographer, a photographer and a director: she engages another professional who she direct / do this, not like that, this here, more light, OK, shoot. And that is how her photos of her nude body are made. Some have really artistic value.

It is not the point of promoting to you the art of Miss Motchka. She sends other messages as well. She is still alive and fight the cancer which I call "the lobster" and the scars it has left on her body.

Here you have a very interesting link. Do not miss it.

 http://www.beautyoutofdamage.com/Flashintro.html

As for me, I'll be off to the NKI-AVL this morning driving my girl to the radiation treatment. 

All of Macedonia and a blogger called Interpreter, otherwise SANDRA TOMOVSKA, a single mother of two, were badly pissed-off by the EU foreign ministers decision to ONCE AGAIN postpone the decision about the date when accession talks with the Republic of Macedonia may begin. For several years the small, poor and proud country ()officially a country with a candidate-member status) has been publicly molested by intransigent Greece against the will of all the other member-states. The intransigent Greeks want that Macedonia changes it constitutional name.

Miss Tomovska, with a rich opus of pungent blogs have produced to-day yet another post to wide acclaim. You have it here but in Macedonian because I find that appropriate and because, written in the dialect of her and mine native Kumanovo,  it will lose all of its flavor and cadence. The text uses some sharp language and vocabulary some may find it obscene. You are most welcome to translate it if you think it is worth your while.

On the other hand, if you happen to know somebody of a Macedonian extraction, do please pass this post to her or to him. Those people will love it and I hope that they may be capable and willing to at least literally translate the content (with the socio-political and historical) context for you.

On the end comes what Sandra Tomovska believes is the most fitting musical illustration of her  musings. I simply love that song. 

Не продавај на курву курвал'к

на шваљера шваљерл'к

не продавај куртони, избушени балони

не продавај мудо за бел бубрег

не ми давај да једу жут снег

не ми га пипај венерин брег

не дотурај на препунету вагу тег 

Тргни се, одјеби курво, р'ѓо, стоко

ја те следу, гледам те под око

свак д'н на главу ми дубиш

дека неваљам, не престана да трубиш

Па кад не сам ти добра

што само се около мене вртиш

што гу покварену гузицу на југ тртиш

ем сакаш да се ебеш, ем да не ти улегне

бегаш мој проблем да не те засегне

Овакој прави, не бива

онакој врти, кичма се свива

заврти се на десно, па нејќе, тесно

лево, у средину, право

јебеш ме Европо поштено и здраво

И поново ме еба, кобајаги несакајќи

утепа се  да ме спасиш као пробувајќи

 абе ако сакаш да се јебеш, кажи

грчка путка се и онакој неебана влажи

Да ви јебу министри, совети, Шпанци

Румунски европљани и бугарски ганци

да ви јебу ваши шестмесечни ланци

што около врат стезав, давив

све те ослободујев, а у тињу те главив

Државо, ти земи па напрчи краци

доста те командасва реформски глупаци

доста бесмо од стрипови јунаци

пушти курву европску у гз да те баци

Хипокризија, на интереси колизија

шоу маст гоу он,  грчка евровизија

поштена си курво у свое колено

ситно ебање у семејство големо  

The man who put together the scheme of $7000 billion to save the greedy bankers, somebody called Neel Kashkari "...wears no coat though it's freezing, shines no light though it's near midnight, carries no shotgun though he's tramping on the pine-needled tracks of black bears."

This is the begininning of a Washington Post story. Quite revealing.

You may hear about it tomorrow in the office, wherever that may be.

Methinks that the public money should have never ever gone to the banks, effectively nationalizing them. The Congress should have taken over the payment of ALL those apartments and houses with MUCH, MUCH less money and offered the tennants to cary on residing there while paying half the monthly dues at a longer period.

But such a move would have exposed the theft, the scheme devised by the greed of the bank managers, wouldn't it?

Once you hate reading, least of all responding, the posts by Gogan (met besluit van Hare Majesteit een nieuwe, 70-jarige Nederlander) why would you follow his views on Twitter? 

Simple:

To keep your adrenaline circulating, that is why.

ALL YOU NEED DO IS CLICK HERE:

http://twitter.com/GKPopov

If yu continue your ad-melkert-tegen-pim-foruyn behavior, not even throwing an angry or disapproving look (back in ager) then you will, willy-nilly send a collective message that his arguments are solid and holding, wouldn't you? That is hoe the anglo-saxon world will interpret your disregard.

He (that's me of course) says that Neelie Kroes is the shame of the Netherlands, that her behavior during the affaire (or was that something else) with that unlucky Bram Peper was abominable, her participation in the night parties around Rotterdam harbor at the expense of the taxpayers were (according the books on morals I have read) a disgrace.

So Gogan twits about those things and similar stuff.

Now, you have a first come first served 100% guaranteed reward of €35 if you could prove that NS Nederlandse Spoorwegen are not making fools out of us and that its advertised tariff of €35 single ticket from Amsterdam to Paris is really available, bookable and valid during this month of December 2009.

Here is the link and you will see that NS claim that the cheapest single ticket to Paris costs €35, I would like to travel with my grandson (he is 10 years) on the 19th of December and return on the 21st. I am 70.

(Up, right: Our first  train ride on NS from Amsterdam to Leiden)

To the first one who sends me a screen shot of the page where that booking can be effectuated I solemnly promise to transfer €35 if the NS accepts to issue me the tickets.

There is no need to entice your work by saying that this is an evident trespassing of all norms for fare trade and constitutes just one of the many absurdities I have been raining on you all this time.

Have some fun.

NS says it will give 10 free return tickets Amsterdam-Paris for the new super speedy service connecting Amsterdam with Paris in just 3:18 that begins next weekend.

Do you believe this?   

Bank of America announced that it plans to repay $45bn (£27bn) US government bail-out. It received the loans to evade bankruptcy and to shelter Merrill Lynch from one.

The move might allow Bank of America to free itself from government restrictions on executive pay, a pre-condition for disbursement of the taxpayers' funds.

This is the scam of scams. The Financial Times supports of course such course of events. This whole "crisis" was a brazen plain day robbery orchestrated and executed by the financial moguls through their executives employed as top ranking public servants.  It is so obvious that all this disgusts honest people.  

It is evident that Bank of America, Citi Group and other financial institutions would not have existed today (they would have been bankrupt last autumn) without those public funds. The government of the US MUST not accept the return of the moneys at a time when the bailed out banks want to repay them and then forget about the bail out. No. The banks have to be kept on the leash of public surveillance till they learned to behave. They need to pay a fine, boote in Dutch, for willing to repay early, just what they do to their customers.

We, the people, can punish the government by not electing it next time, but that would have not solved the problem. The attitude of the banks (not only the insane remuneration, bonuses of their greedy executives and tricky dealers is in question but their risk-taking and open gambling with funds and the economy of the world) must be rooted out and for good. They need the controll and they are legally bound to be supervised.

The government will arrange that the transfers of the loans bounce back to the bank and fines to be imposed. The government can change the laws that regulate the banks. The financial institutions can easily be brought to the book.

If only the regulators want that. If they, the government and parliaments do not want what the public needs - then it is time for huge overhaul.

One would expect that the Financial Times would engage in producing a magazine titled HOW TO MAKE IT, but these people believe that making money is easier and those in pursuit of such an endeavor do not need any help while those who have made money do not how to spend it and therefore should be helped by the knowledgeable contributors of the FT. Thus - the exclusive supplement in a form of full-size magazine: HOW TO SPEND IT.

Now they have launched it as a web-site, it is online.

You might not be exactly in the mood of spending (heavily) this holiday season, but I feel that many of you will enjoy the contents of the lavish supplement of the FT greatly.

In short, I recommend it to you attention. It is totally un-Dutch, but it does have some stunning photography, absolutely exotic technology page and dreamlike suggestions for travel. 

Trust me.

(Up right a "How to Spend it" front page photo of a brooch, those items once promoted by Ms Albright, the US secretary of State are coming back in fashion, in enamel, diamonds and rubies makes Gassan appear a trinket peddling anachronism)

Out there in Macedonia these days the people are very excited about the forthcoming (from 19-th December) visa-free regime of traveling to the countries of the EU and the expected decision about the date of the beginning of accession negotiations. These two events will lead, among other things, to a different climate among the philatelists in and outside of Macedonia.

Some of their stamps will be a rarity because of the change of the name of the pour country (a precondition for the beginning of the negotiations) and easier access to the philatelic markets. Some of their stamps are withdrawn from circulation and the plates destroyed for political reasons. Friends have asked me whether there was any interest for Macedonian stamps on the Dutch market. I do not know a thing about that.

Do you?

Could you, would you care to drop a hint or info?

The earlier post was but a handful of snowflakes of the furious tempest of memories triggered by the letter from my 6-year old grandson Marko from Macedonia. My, and I believe those of the most of the senior people on this platform, experiences with letters and the post in general are heavily emotional.

During my childhood and adolescence I perceived the postman as a harbringer, messenger of uplifting news and only much latter, here, the postman became an ally of mean, often criminally duplicitous incasso wizards and dumb duurwarders. 

While studying in England half a century ago I got accustomed on two post deliveries a day and those were letters - occasionally parcels -  of love, worry, support and hope from hom. Eventually, even during these digital times TNT and SANDD showed me ways of building a different, friendly relationship with people by handling the letters and building a more meaningful attitude with those services. 

TNT printed my own stamps: one on occasion of the publication of my first travel book on Turkey and the other when my wife retired from the  United Nations Tribunal for former Yugoslavia. Last year I myself was  a postman, postbezorger for SANDD around a small part of south-east Amstelveen. During those few months I have discovered the neighborhood and the neighbors with whom I have been sharing this part of the planet without knowing them at all. Those errands were for health reasons: to move away from the computer and "bewegen, lopen" and not for money. Besides, the Gemeente dully collected all the (infuriatingly, insultingly) small change these delivery services pay their leg-force. 

The habit of writing, sending, reading and responding to letters is diminishing. A whole aspect of our culture is going down the drain while we turn more rudimental. A very important part of our culture, I mean one of the vehicles of progress for all humankind, vanishes in front of our eyes because of profiteering and degradation of our overall relationship network. For me the letter and the postal stamp os not philately, it is an important witnes of the time, a piece of history. But let me not burden you with my though.

Please have a look at a part of the "Night Mail" a poem by Wystan Hugh Auden (W. H. Auden, laureat of the Golden Wreath, Zlaten Venec, of Poetry of the Struga International Festival of Poetry) who sung this so well. 

Letters of thanks, letters from banks,
Letters of joy from the girl and the boy,
Receipted bills and invitations
To inspect new stock or visit relations,
And applications for situations
And timid lovers' declarations
And gossip, gossip from all the nations,
News circumstantial, news financial,
Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in,
Letters with faces scrawled in the margin,
Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Scotland from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Notes from overseas to Hebrides
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The chatty, the catty, the boring, adoring,
The cold and official and the heart's outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong.

The other day we got a letter from Skopje, Macdonia. 

It moved me deeply.

The contents of one of the two pages are presented here. The first one had only two words. They were spelt totally wrong, more signs that only look like letters. But those signs, supported with something which is an illustration, no, a picture, great work of emotional art,  were recognizable enough for me to form the words that were behind them.

My barely six years old grandson Marko (a scan of his message is on the right) was telling me from so far away:

-Hi Grandpa, do you remember the beautiful, joyful days we had together at the pool of  the Swissotel the  Bosphorus in Istanbul? I cannot forget them. Why don't you come and play with me again? It will be so beautiful.

Of course that the boy moved me to tears. Latter this past Sunday, chatting over Skype, his Mum, my daughter in law, who is a graduated pharmacist, told me that she had typed what the little one has dictated to her. And it came to this:

"Grandpa Grozdan, please come to Skopje so that we decorate a Christmas tree with stars and toys and to go out and fight with snowballs and to take pictures with the camera in the Luna Park and in the big park and I will drive the trottinet while you and Mama drink cappuccino and strawberry tea in the pub. "

All of us, my family in particular, we are every other day on Skype, SMS messages fly back and forth and keep us digitally connected, but the magic of the letter is something different. It is not only a ritual, work, time, first composing and then executing the message, igniting the car to go and buy the right envelope, buying and sticking the right amount of stamps, addressing the letter correctly,  going to the post, all that needs to have a motive, an emotion to propel the letter fly from Macedonia to The Netherlands.

I always take great care what stamp I place to which letter. This time the Macedonian stamp rose a fury of memories.

Ages ago the Macedonian post wanted some help from KPN and I had a long meeting in Haarlem that ended with a tentative offer that the Dutch take care of the placement of ALL the stamps of the new state on the world market in exchange for some upfront millions of goulden. The then director of the Macedonian Posts, a great friend of mine, the late Ivan Ginovski, came over here and opened up extensive negotiations with Philips Nederlandse Bedrijven about the modernization of the Macedonian telecommunications, the Post and so forth.

Nothing happened because of the corrupt people around the prime-minister of the time in Macedonia.

I could write a novel about the murky world of politics and money in the start of the transition of that tiny pour country so heavily helped and supported by the Dutch government and businesses.

And all this because of the emotons in the heart of a six-year old kid, emotions totally unrelated to either Philips or the philatelic value of the stamp on the letter that moved me to offer this post to the digital archives of the Volkskrant. 

PS

I think I need to write more about the significance of letters, stamps and the snail-mail.

PPS

The last illustration is allegedly designed by Scanpoint, a firm established in Skopje by a Dutchman who figured out that Macedonia will need fine scanning and other prepress services. The locals thought differently. By the time they tried to follow it was too late, Scanpoint rules the market now. 

Many years ago we moved as tenants to an excitingly comfortable, attractively semi-furnished Watercirkel apartment in Amstelveen. Our old friend Ben, then owner-manager of Amsterdam Housing or something like that, had found it for us.

We needed to pay a hefty 12,500 goulden "overname", but it was worth it. The rent is fixed by law under the old legal provisions and the previous, very charming, very high profile tenant was a lady who had placed brand new wall-to-wall carpeting, nice pieces of furniture, quality framed graphics, fully equipped kitchen and so forth.

Among the suff the business executive (she was getting married somewhere) left other small items behind.

One of them was a jar of Italian-made Amarena Cherries in heavy syrup.

We did not fancy tasting them. The jar was sort of decorative and we kept it. Years latter, deciding whether to toss them in the garbage, I was tempted to risk some food poisoning and tried one. It was delicious. I washed the jar from the outside nicely, the lid too and occasionally had a cherry or two.

Now, yesterday, I came to the bottom of the jar.

You may guess, I hope, that with this post I like to request anybody of you people who read my insignificant posts to help me locate the place in this land where this product can be purchased. If you happen to like exquisite delicacies and fine fruit in syrup - you will be aptly rewarded.

Well, this is not a photo to bid weltrusten, a good night,

to your

kids,

is it?

We, the humankind,

so very often, daily,

demonstrate

such ferocious

behavior

not for our

bare survival

but for

reasons

far removed from any reason or

logic.

The space here prevents me to use words that flow and I need to pick only those that fit  here.

But you do understand my message, don't you.

We need to change.

Urgently.

Few short weeks ago the anniversary of the events that led to the unification of Germany  was presented as a correction of some huge historic injustice. 

That message was and will remain a lie for all times.

The humankind earnestly wanted Germany quartered, divided in small pieces and controlled.

(right: Churchill in uniform, Roosevelt and generalissimus Stalin in the garden of Cecilienhof, Potsdam, near Berlin)

OK, times have changed since 1945 when the Allies decided upon that matter.

Both the Bundesrepubliek Deutschland and the Deutsche Demokratische Republik worked hard to extend proves  that the Third Reich was a ghastly part of the German history and that it was buried for ever. 

The problem with that effort is relatively simple: even when it is acknowledged it does wipe away neither the atrocities committed by the Third Reich nor the fact of the plebiscital support it had among the Germans. In short, that period cannot be either forgotten or forgiven.

Of course that there will be arguments pro et contra about this but the celebrations of the fall of the wall are misused to promote another, rather murky message. Those (the ayatolahs of the German Communist party) who imposed the wall were badly wrong doing so. They were a disgrace to the idea of a new, communist, free  human society and they both misunderstood it and practiced it abominably.

(Up right: Idilic photo of schloss Babelsberg parkland captured around 1945 surface from the German Archives as a tacit illustration that an innocent country was butchered and divided by a dreaded concrete wall erected by the communists ...)

But the walls in the heads of these three men in the idilic gardens around Cecilienhof and nearby Potstdam were the actual problem. Winston Churchill coined the phrase "Iron Curtain" not as a reaction to something new, a twist or change of heart on the part of Josef Stalin but as a sequence or consequence to his stubborn position that communism is the arch enemy to liberal and any other form of a capitalist social arrangement. 

Actually, he wanted (and FDR conceded) the capitalist "free" countries to sanitize, isolate and suffocate the countries of the so called communist world.

It was the West, the big money that started the Cold War not the other way round.

Now the same Big Money, with the Wall down, will have to find another address for blame. 

Pay attention what happens on the relation West-China.

Note the threat by Big Money mouthpiece Martin Wolf: 

"Either decrease exports and expansion or we show you a clenched fist, war".

Depending on how you read the newspapers, the Financial Times (FT) offers by far the largest selection of plain stupid statements. There is a plethora of semi-truths jotting from the first to the last page. And there is an amazing abundance of lame statements. Once you remove the ugly crutches FT editors and contributors place on those items - their stories which become shrieking counter-evidence.

My intention is to build a pile of evidence that the Financial Times is a biased publication that does not deserve the trust and the time of people seriously interested in politics,  economy and finance. 

In a column called MYSTERY SHOPPER the editors of the FT have published a text by somebody who said was in Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh and not knowing what better to do decided to go out shopping. Allegedly, it so happened that when this FT writer went out of the Westin hotel - he bumped into one of the 400,000 rickshaws with a driver who not only spoke English and understood what the FT journalist wanted,  but relaxed the Brit saying that he (the rickshaw Bangladeshi driver) had a wife who was "shopaholic".

Among the rest of the crap the author says that he used a 30-page shopping guide for Dhaka - which was also available at www.dhakacalling.com. (BEWARE HOW YOU HANDLE THAT ADDRESS: BETTER - DO NOT GO THERE)

I clicked to check.

Google jumped back with this message on the right.

Then I decided to take this as one of the items o which to build my pile that you should not trust those editors who publish URL addresses which can badly damage or wipe out ALL you content saved through years on your HD. This shows attitude. If they do not care about such an issue - why should I believe them they check and double check on more sensitive items they publish.

PS

If you will have read the article I am ready to discuss the underlying message of "shopping in Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh".