Heinlein's social stuff later on sure took the cake. In Friday (1982) he took the time to shit all over New Zealand, 30 years after his trip there. As for Tramp Royale, I mainly remember that he had a rasher of boiled-looking bacon with pig bristles still in it. That would make me hold a grudge, too.
Heinlein's social stuff later on sure took the cake. In Friday (1982) he took the time to shit all over New Zealand, 30 years after his trip there. As for Tramp Royale, I mainly remember that he had a rasher of boiled-looking bacon with pig bristles still in it. That would make me hold a grudge, too.
I read all of the Lazarus Long Jubal Harshaw crap. All of it. Lost it's entertainment value when I began adulting and realized Heinlein was writing mostly adolescent male sex fantasy. And there's nothing more miserable than an international traveler who whines about the bad food. That person is typically a bore to be avoided. It's part of the adventure. In NZ you're getting classic English "cuisine" (for lack of a better term) like it or leave it. My most memorable Thanksgiving was spent on the bathroom floor of a fine Auckland hotel with food poisoning. You learn to stick to the grilled lamb, fish and chips, pizza, and maybe some sweet yummy pavlova (basically a baked merengue cake) and you get by.
Heinlein's social stuff later on sure took the cake. In Friday (1982) he took the time to shit all over New Zealand, 30 years after his trip there. As for Tramp Royale, I mainly remember that he had a rasher of boiled-looking bacon with pig bristles still in it. That would make me hold a grudge, too.
I read all of the Lazarus Long Jubal Harshaw crap. All of it. Lost it's entertainment value when I began adulting and realized Heinlein was writing mostly adolescent male sex fantasy. And there's nothing more miserable than an international traveler who whines about the bad food. That person is typically a bore to be avoided. It's part of the adventure. In NZ you're getting classic English "cuisine" (for lack of a better term) like it or leave it. My most memorable Thanksgiving was spent on the bathroom floor of a fine Auckland hotel with food poisoning. You learn to stick to the grilled lamb, fish and chips, pizza, and maybe some sweet yummy pavlova (basically a baked merengue cake) and you get by.