Franks travels

Malay പെനിന്‍സുല ട്രിപ്പ്‌ 2010

2011-03-11T10:14:00.000-08:00

Malay Peninsula Trip April 2010

This was a trip I had dreamed of for years. Exotic Bangkok, “The Bridge Over the River Kwai” and the sheer rock wall islands from the James Bond movie, The Man with the Golden Gun. Thailand, the land of smiles, had been beckoning for years.
One day in 2006 I saw an advertisement in a magazine, for Singapore Airlines, business class, the seat was the widest I had ever seen, Singapore Air (SIA) were revered for their service, so I was determined to find out how I could get one with miles.
Upon checking their website I discovered they were part of the Star Alliance group, which was anchored in the United States by United Airlines. United no longer had a New York hub and did not fly anywhere I was going in the near future. Upon further investigation of the SIA website I saw they had an alliance with Delta Airlines, who were partners in the Skyteam Alliance, which included Continental Airlines, both of whom had New York hubs and flew direct flights to Dublin, Ireland.
I checked Delta’s website, and in addition to the regular Skyteam awards, they also offered business class awards with SIA and China Air, both were for 120 thousand miles to Asia, I could get that amount in about two years. I decided it was time to investigate my options for joining Delta, but I did not want to go back to zero benefits eligibility.
At the time I was a Platinum Elite member of the Oneworld Alliance, flying mostly American Airlines, (AA), occasionally, British Airways, both of which required me to take two flights to reach Dublin. I was getting regular upgrades, had lounge access and received 100% mileage bonus on flights, all of which I did not want to give up. In that year (2006) I was only going to make Gold Elite, which would reduce me to 25% bonuses. I had just cashed in one hundred and twenty thousand miles for a trip to Japan, on Japan Airlines (JAL), I had enough in my account, for another JAL business class ticket, and a Cathay Pacific first class award to Australia. So, I decided to call Delta to see, if I could leverage equal status from them, if I switched loyalties. They agreed, and a few days later I received my Gold Medallion (Delta Gold = AA Platinum) card in the mail, Singapore here I come.
The airline industry was still recovering from the post 911, passenger downturn, but I was able to find plenty of cheap, long distance, weekend mileage run fares and with the 100% bonus, my account balance started to build very quickly. In fact, so quickly, that I cashed in sixty thousand for a first class ticket to Alaska in 2007, but Singapore was still the goal.
Towards the end of 2008, Delta announced they were buying Northwest Airlines, which would make them the largest airline in the world. In doing so, they would sever their alliance with Continental. Now due to Continental’s hub being at Newark, which is a lot closer to Manhattan than JFK, I had been using them instead of Delta, for all my flights to Dublin and Florida. So as I had the target amount of 120 thousand miles in my Delta account, I decided to swap my Delta Silver Elite status for Continental Silver, who were joining the SIA Star Alliance.
Without any account activity, I would have a year to use the miles, as according to the Delta website, they were continuing their non Star Alliance agreement with SIA until October 2009. I wanted to go in April 2010 so I could not book the flight until June 2009.
When June finally rolled around, I called Delta, only to be told this award no longer existed, I told the rep, it was still listed on their website and insisted on talking to a supervisor. I wanted the Newark to Singapore, non-stop, all business class flight, but was told that flight never has award availability; I would have to fly from JFK via Frankfurt, Germany. I had already suspected this would be the case, having read up on the SIA, Krisflyer page on flyertalk.com. This did not bother me to much as the equipment out of JFK was a Boeing 747-400, my favourite plane, and how much worse could the seats be, the service would be the same!
I secured the dates I wanted, outbound, April 2nd to Bangkok and returning from Singapore April 17th 2010, now I could set about planning my adventure down the Malay Peninsula, if I got really lucky the Malaysian Formula One Grand Prix would be scheduled for Kuala Lumpur while I was there, but I was not about to wait until December to make my plans around it.
My original plan was to take the train, in stages, from Bangkok, down through the peninsula, stopping off in Krabi, Penang, Kuala Lumpur and ending in Singapore but the timetable was not conducive to someone with only two weeks. I looked into internal airlines, Air Asia, (Asia’s Ryan Air) a big sponsor of the Williams team in Formula One and of the Premier League, had cheap flights from Bangkok to Krabi and 2 flights a day from Krabi to Kuala Lumpur, I could then take the train to Singapore. But that was a long way down the road.

Friday, April 2nd, 2010, finally arrived and I headed out to JFK with great excitement. After check-in, I headed for the lounge; it was not an exclusive Singapore Air facility, but a contracted lounge that served several airlines. Further along the concourse, was a Swiss Air lounge, as they are also Star Alliance members, I decided to check out their lounge first. Upon entry, there was a bar and food service area, but the fare in the chafing dishes looked like it had been there all day, I could see another bar area to the rear and wandered back there, but it was just a very basic bar with potato chips, nuts, etc, very disappointing. I tasted a glass of Californian cabernet, which like the lounge, was bland. I bade them farewell and headed back to the SIA lounge, it had to be better.
After a few gin n’ tonics I was feeling a bit peckish, all the cold food on offer looked rather bland, but there were a couple hot chafing dishes, which I discovered held white rice and beef curry, wonderful. I loaded up a plate and grabbed a glass of cabernet; I was starting to feel more at home, one of my favourite memories from JAL, was the use of beef curry as a snack, both on the planes and in their lounges.
Boarding was finally announced, I took my seat on the upper deck, emergency exit row window, 17K. As business classes go it was a good seat, but not the one I had been seduced with in the magazine advertisement, but then I was handed a glass of champagne by a beautiful Singapore girl and forgot about the seat.
After take-off, I had another couple of gin n tonics while waiting for dinner to be served, I had ordered Rack of Lamb from the “Book the Chef” menu, it was very tasty, but not overly filling, (good job I had the curry), the wine selections though, were very good, I tasted both the American and French cabernets.
After dinner I put on a movie and got comfortable, the next thing I know, I’m being gently tapped on the elbow. What a wonderful sight to wake up too, a Singapore girl offering you orange juice! Breakfast was served, just before we touchdown in Frankfurt.
The layover in Frankfurt is scheduled for one hour and twenty minutes and everybody has to leave the plane and take all your belongings due to plane cleaning and security. There was supposed to be a Lufthansa lounge nearby, but I could not find it quick enough as you have to be back at the gate within an hour for a second security screening. I figured it was quicker to be first back on board to get coffee and a mimosa.
When we finally pushed away from the gate, there were only nine passengers in the upper deck cabin, which seats twenty six, great, it was going to make for very attentive service.
After take-off, Carol, my personal stewardess, came around to take cocktail orders, I was going to order a Bloody Mary, but then realized I should be ordering a Singapore Sling. When it was served, I had a flashback to 1971, when I had returned to Dublin from London, I gone out drinking on Saturday night, with my old best friend, Denis Dorgan. As sixteen year olds, we had been refused service in two pubs, but finally got served in a very flash bar on Burgh Quay, where they actually had cocktail menu’s. That night we tried Singapore Slings, Moscow Mules, Grasshoppers and White Lady’s, scattered in amongst several pints of lager. Luckily, although it did not seem that way at the time, we spent all our money and missed the last bus home, so we had to walk the five miles to Artane. It considerably lessened the hangover effect the next morning.
Now here I was almost forty years later, sipping the same drink at 38,000 feet en route to Singapore, watching some inane Irish movie, which I did not know the name of, reminiscing about my misspent youth, ahh. I was awakened from my revere when Carol tapped me on the shoulder, she had noticed I was watching the Irish movie and inquired if I had ever been to Ireland? Why only last Christmas said I, she was surprised, I explained that my parents were Irish, that I had gone to school there as a kid and still had a lot of family, why? Well, she said, I’m graduating from UCD (university college Dublin) next month, WOW, I was almost speechless. A buzzer went off and Carol had to excuse herself. We never got to restart the conversation and I was left to wonder, how did she fit the schooling into her flying regime?
Lunch/dinner, depending on what time zone your watch was set too (2pm Central European or 8pm Singapore) was served shortly afterwards, I turned off the stupid movie. I had ordered the baked salmon and it was delicious with a nice New Zealand
Chardonnay. After dinner I found the first three episodes of the new third series of the hit comedy, Gavin & Stacey, which would not premier on BBC America until May, it was fantastic. A few cognac and ports during the TV shows ensured a nice nap for a few hours. I awoke over the Bay of Bengal with approx 3 hours to go and my body clock felt like it was the middle of the afternoon, so I ordered a beer and some crunchy snacks. An hour or so later Carol was up and about again, taking breakfast and drink orders. The Singapore Sling had been quiet sweet so this time I stuck to the Bloody Mary and coffee. This meal was not part of the “Book the Chef”: program, so I ordered the Asian mixed seafood with rice, it tasted great, but twenty minutes later I was running to the bathroom, I did not think anything of it at the time, but twenty minutes later as we were lining up for final approach, I needed to go again. I thought it was just a combination of the beer, bloody’s and coffee, so I just dismissed it as life.
We landed at terminal three at 6:30am and my connecting flight to Bangkok was leaving from terminal two at 9:30am, as I walked to the connecting monorail, I looked at the toilets, thinking, how long is the ride, should I go before boarding the train! This was now invading upon the enjoyment and experience of Changi airport, not what I had expected. The monorail was only a few minutes and as it was still dark I could not see any of the airport, the train deposited me in the heart of terminal two. Upon disembarking I noticed there were free wi-fi connected computer kiosks all over the place, what a nice touch, I immediately went to one, to look up yesterday’s Premier League results, Spurs had lost 3-1 at Sunderland and Manchester City had won 6-1 at Burnley, putting them into the prized fourth spot ahead of us. In the big game of the day, Chelsea had beaten Manchester United at Old Trafford 2-1, all but sealing them the championship.
Changi terminal two, is one of the nicest airport facilities that I have come across, apart from all the usual shopping and dining arcades, which were extremely well laid out, there were tranquil forest type oasis’s with palm trees, grass and ponds stocked with carp and large goldfish, where passengers could relax and recoup. Watching fish is a well know relaxant. Unfortunately I did not have time to dally at one of these oasis’s, I needed to find the business class lounge to use the bathroom, it was located at the far end of the terminal, just my luck.
The Silverkris lounge was the largest loungeI had ever been in, after a quick pit stop, I set about exploring. There were three food/refreshment stations with a large selection of western and oriental breakfast foods, both hot and cold. Just my luck to have a dodgy tummy.
At one end of the complex was a quiet dimly lit zone with reclining seats, along one wall were approx twenty computer stations, all internet connected and free to use. In the center was a comfortable dining zone and opposite end was half a dozen large plasma screen televisions showing sport and news from around the world, I got to see all the English Premier League football highlights and the qualifying for the Malaysian Formula One Grand Prix from the previous day.
It was not long before my flight was called, I then found out it was a very long walk past a lot of non-operational gates which seemed very strange but when I turned the final corner, I was confronted with a security check point. It looked like it was just set up temporarily for these last two gates. It seemed very strange at the time, as I was already inside a secure terminal, it was a good job I had not bought any duty free liquor, my bottle of water from the lounge was confiscated.
Upon boarding I was offered a glass of champagne and as I had not been to the bathroom for a while, I gave it a go, mistake, I had to visit the toilet before we left the gate and a subsequent 3 times on the relatively short ninety minute flight, needless to say I passed on Singapore Air’s signature dish of chicken rice, which I had pre-ordered.
Bangkok airport is a very impressive structure, dark mirrored glass and steel, with each terminal wing a diminishing accordion style half domes. Inside, the mirrored glass keeps it very cool in spite of the one hundred degree temperature outside.
Once I collected my bag and got some cash from the ATM, I walked out the door, into a wall of heat, it was only a few yards to the taxi stand, but I was instantly drenched in sweat. I was first in line, what a relief to get into the air conditioned taxi.
The motorway into Bangkok, is a modern, three lane, in each direction, road. On the way we passed very colourful and modern, long distance buses. As we got closer to the capital, there were more and more small motorcycles but, when we got off at an intersection, we were swamped by them. There were more motorbikes and scooters than I remember in Shanghai, which was an awful lot.
The driver found my hotel, Citadines Sukhumvit Soi 23, very easily, (Soi = Street), it had a small, very nice, modern lobby, but I was really surprised when I got up to my room. When I walked in, there was a compact kitchenette with, fridge, two stove rings, sink and convection oven, everything you would need to cook small meals at home. Next was a small sitting/work area, with small couch, coffee table and a desk, off which was the bathroom. Between the sitting area and the window, was a sliding screened, bedroom area, with a thirty two plasma TV, mounted on a rail that ran the length of the wall, so you could watch TV from the couch or bed. It was bigger and better laid out, than some of the studio apartments in my New York building.
It was now around noon and the Malaysian Formula One Grand Prix was not on TV until 3pm, so as I was feeling a little drained from my mild food poisoning, I decided to have a power nap and hit the streets after the race. This was the third race of the season and after a very boring first in Bahrain where Ferrari came first and second, behind the pole sitting Red Bulls. The second race, in Melbourne, Australia, had also been dominated in qualifying by the Red Bulls, but was won by current world champion, Jensen Button, in his new McLaren Mercedes. So today’s race in which the Red Bulls were first and third on the grid, should be a good indicator of how the rest of the season would unfold.
As it turned out, Sebastian Vettal got past second place Nico Roseburg and his team-mate, Mark Webber at the start, and that was the way it finished, very boring. Hopefully things will change by the time they race again in Shanghai, China, in two weeks time.
I was feeling much better, so I decided to head out into the cooler late afternoon of Bangkok, and do some exploring. Upon walking out the door of the hotel I was berated by a chorus of massage calls calling me from the four or five parlours across the street, very disconcerting.
My friend, Roger, who had lived in Thailand, told me to visit, Soi Cowboy, one of the centers for the cities infamous sex trade, even if you are not interested, it is worth seeing. It turned out, it was just down the road (Soi) from my hotel, which I also found a little unsettling. It also turned out to be the shortest route from my hotel to the elevated “skytrain” station. As I walked through it in the early evening twilight, I vowed I would not be caught walking through here late at night, it was wall to wall massage parlours and hostess bars, where a smile could part you from your money very quickly. Curiously, every bar was showing, English Premier League football, and the few customers they had at this time of day, were all European males, enough said.
The intersection around the corner from Soi Cowboy at Sukhumvit Road, was absolute chaos, motorcycles and taxi’s going in every which direction, with seemingly no regard for the lights. Some had a green, but a lot of the smaller bikes, slow down at the red, then go for it if the coast is clear. When we finally got a green walk sign, the shear volume of pedestrians stopped the flow of bikes. I found out later, that if it is quieter time, you will need to wait for a crowd to stem the flow, or as I witnessed, you just run for it.
Bangkok has two rail systems, which are not interchangeable, two skytrain lines which meet at Siam Center, the fashion/retail center of the city, and the subway, which runs from Hua Lamphong railway station to Bang Sue railway station in the northern suburbs. Soon they will both connect to the new railway line running to the airport.
I boarded the skytrain for the five stop ride into Siam center, the fare was twenty bahts (60 cents), very cheap. Upon arrival, I could see from the elevated train station, that all the modern, glass and concrete malls were deserted. Below me in the street, were hundreds of red shirt supporters, the anti government protesters, who had effectively shut down the malls by congregating at the entrances. The station concourse gave a great view of the whole place, there were a lot of pick-up trucks driving up and down the street alternately blasting, either music or speeches from huge speakers on the back. A lot of them would have crowds hanging all over the truck.
There was no sign of any violence or tension in the air, so I decided to go downstairs and walk amongst them. Upon the street I started to walk back the way the train had come, towards the next stop. These people were encamped here for the long haul, with tents and lean-to’s, set up under the elevated train. I passed a park, which I saw several times in the following weeks on newsreels, where a lot of the rioting took place. On this night it was full of camps. Next I came upon the Inter-Continental Hotel, which looked like a fortress, it was open, but you would not want to be staying here. I crossed the street to a 7-11 for a bottle of water, the perspiration was running off me like Niagara Falls, it was packed with red shirts, buying up all the beer and food in sight, but I had no problem slipping in and buying a bottle of water, as I did again another few hundred yards down the road.
I finally came to the next train stop, absolutely saturated, it had been a memorable experience and something I would relive everyday for the next few weeks. The following weekend, the riots started, perhaps some of the people I had seen that night, were now dead, a very sorry state of affairs.
Upon arrival back at Sukhumvit Road, I was rather hungry, I was not in the mood to try any spicy Thai food and all of the other restaurants in the area seemed to be other ethnic foods, I was looking for something plain. There were plenty of English and Irish pubs, with names like, The Queen Victoria, The Olde Ship, The Dubliner, but they were all empty, so I selected a Dutch pub on the corner of Soi 23 & Soi Cowboy. There was an American hamburger bar on the other corner, and they both seemed to be exempt from the hustle and bustle of Soi Cowboy, itself. Both were showing Premier League highlights, but I was not going into an American burger joint. I had the local fried fish with rice and it was delicious, a few beers and it was time for bed.
Monday morning I was up bright and early. Tuesday, I had planned taking the train to the Bridge on the River Kwai, but was not sure which train station it left from, so I took the subway to Hua Lamphong, station, which is the main railway terminus. I found a timetable but was told the train departs from Thonburi Station, which is on the other side of the river and not near any public transport. The clerk advised using a taxi. The problem with that is, Bangkok’s traffic is notoriously slow, especially during the rush hour periods.
Upon consulting a map, I saw Hua Lamphong, was not far from the river, as was Thonburi, I knew there was an extensive river ferry service, so I set off in search of the river. It was a little further than I expected and even at 8am, it was sweltering hot. After a 15 minute wait I caught an express ferry that stopped at Thonburi 15 minutes later, I did not bother to disembark as I could see the station from the dock and besides it was so cooling riding on the river, I decided to stay on till the last stop, Wat Soi, another 30 minutes up river.
I was now in a very northern suburb of Bangkok, far from the tourist beat, it was very refreshing. I wandered around a few blocks and finally found a street vendor selling deep fried dough, which was delicious, the texture of a doughnut, but savory in taste. With some sweet strong milky coffee, a nice breakfast treat.
When I wandered back to the ferry dock, there was a boat about to leave but it was virtually full, I noticed on the way up, that all the southbound boats, were packed and I really wanted a shady side seat, so I gave this one a miss, bought a local drink and sat down in the shade.
The next boat was in twenty minutes and I got the prime front starboard seat, perfect., instead of getting off where I got on, I stayed on another four stops to the center terminal, which turned out to be beside a skytrain station. This would be the easiest way to Thonburi in the morning.
I took the skytrain into the Siam Center to change for Sukhumvit and found that the red shirts had really ramped up their protests and almost doubled their ranks. I got off and walked into a small electronics mall, that was directly connected to the skytrain and found the place virtually empty, with most of the stores closed. I walked out onto the street to see if there was anywhere to have lunch and found only western fast food, yuck.
I hopped back on the skytrain and this time decided to ride one stop past Sukhumvit and see if there was anything different, there wasn’t, just more eastern and western fast food joints, I even went into a supermarket, hoping there would be something, different that I could take home, but again, nothing. I did see a few more English pubs, The Bull n Bush etc., but they were advertising, Bangers & Mash outside.
It was 98 degrees, by the time I came to the Dutch pub from yesterday, I had had it. I sat down at one of their outside tables, which are cooled by a misting system and ordered a cold beer, whew. Still not having had any proper lunch, I ordered the sweet n sour fried fish and watched the world go by, nice.
Sated, I headed back to the hotel for a swim in the rooftop pool, hoping of course that it would be cool, but it was hotter than bathwater, still it felt good to relax.
That evening I decided to ask the front desks advice, for a good local Thai restaurant. It was a good job I did; I would never have found this restaurant, even though it was only two blocks away. Baan Khanitha, was hidden inside a high walled garden, I ordered the house specialty, mixed seafood in green curry sauce with seafood fried rice, it was excellent.
It had been a very long day and I was planning getting early start on Tuesday to visit the Bridge on the River Kwai, so I headed back to the hotel for an early night.
Tuesday morning I was up bright and early and down in the subway by 6:30am, as you enter Bangkok subways, there are banks of ATM’s. I still had approx 2,000 bahts, ($60) half of the 4,000, I got out at the airport, it would probably get me through the day, but as I was going into the middle of nowhere, it would not hurt to have a little extra. The first machine rejected my card, as did the next three, this was now very worrying, should I carry on regardless, worry about it later, or go back to the hotel and contact my bank. I decided on the later, as the most prudent move, although it was going to cost me, my one shot at this trip. Getting stuck in the middle of no where or arrive back in Bangkok with no access to cash seemed a no brainer.
I had switched my everyday banking from Citibank to Capital One for the very reason of not paying foreign transaction fees, last year while in France, Citibank had charged me $72 in fees to draw money out of my account, now here I am, half way around the world with an ATM card that did not work, that never happened with Citibank. I guess it’s the old adage; you get what you pay for.
In the hotel lobby, I used their public computer to log into my account, using their secure, online messaging service, I register my complaint. That was when I realized, that I was making another false assumption, that they were a 24 hour bank. It was 7am in Bangkok, 8pm, yesterday in New York, I might not get a reply until tonight! I then decided to try the, outside United States, 24 hour toll free number on the back of the card, but all I got an automated message.
I am now in a very agitated state of mind, I go back on line, transfer some funds from my Citibank savings to my checking and return to the ATM, voila, it gives me the cash. I guess we just found out which the worldwide bank is, and which the Micky Mouse is.
My day is now in total ruins, I don’t really give a damn about doing anything, everything has turned to shite, on what was supposed to be a dream trip, shame on you, Capital One.
As I was at the subway I took it to Hua Lamphong, station again, to have a walk around Chinatown. Unfortunately, as it was so early there was not much going on so I decided to go visit the Grand Palace which looked very impressive from the river, yesterday. I hailed a tuk tuk and showed him on my map where I wanted to go, but he shook his finger at me and said, no. I was shocked, he then pointed at my shorts and at his long pants, I thought the shorts rule only applied to women. Oh well back to the station, it was only about 9;30am but the temperature was already well into the ninties.
I had lunch in the hotel restaurant, which was very good, but again my Capital 1 card was refused.
With no plans, and the extreme high temperature, I was at a loss what to do, so I went for a swim up on the roof, but the water was like a bath, this was okay until it became unbearably hot. So time for a nap.
I woke about four and went upstairs for another few laps in the pool and to grab a few rays, naturally it was still baking hot but luckily there is a cold shower. After an hour of listening to a podcast of The Danny Baker, I headed downstairs to get cleaned up and head out into the night. Tonight I was going to the Suan Lum night bazaar, I was looking for cheap imitation football (soccer) shirts for the up coming World Cup, particularly African ones.
There was virtually everything you could think of on sale here, it did not take long to find a stall selling football shirts, but they only had the usual suspects, the top four in England, Man. Utd, Arsenal, Chelsea & Liverpool, Barcelona & Real Madrid from Spain, the Italian trio of Milan, Inter & Juventus, all the European national teams, but no Africans. I found several more stalls, but they all carried the same shirts.
I was now getting a little peckish and started wandering the restaurant section of the market and settled on a Thai fish joint, I had the coconut curry shrimp appetizer followed by a whole BBQ fish with Pad Thai seafood noodles, all washed down with an ice cold Chang beer, excellent and cheap.
I set about exploring the rest of the bazaar but it was all virtually the same goods in the row after row of stalls, I then saw an ancient stone arch and wandered through, it was a different world. A huge outdoor food court with two giant TV screens at each end showing, what else, football, accompanied by loud thumping nondescript pop music. I wish I had seen this first, I was stuffed and the food I had eaten was very good, but I could have tried so many more dishes here, I got a bottle of Chang and sat down to soak up the atmosphere, there were families having evening dinner, a few tourists trying a variety of dishes and lots of dating couples making googlly eyes at each other. After an hour, it was time to get the subway back to Sukhumvit Road and have a nightcap.
I was leaving in the morning and truth be told, I was actually anxious for it, Bangkok had not come close, to being the exotic city I had built up in my mind. I was looking forward to heading out to the southwest coast.
Up early in the morning, I went up to the pool for an early morning swim, it does cool a few degrees overnight, making laps possible. By 9am, it was already to hot to sunbath, so I headed down stairs to shower and pack. I turned on the local news on the TV to see if there were any disturbances by the red shirts that would slow down my travels only to be shocked to hear there was a tsunami warning for Krabi and the rest of the Andaman coast. My heart skipped a beat, what do I do, there is no point flying into a disaster! I had flashbacks to the lethal one that struck in 2005, the devastation had been over whelming. After the local news and sport, they came back with some earthquake specialists, who quelled my fears. Although the quake had been in the same vicinity as the one in 2005 and close to the same magnitude, it had been much deeper in the earth and the likelihood of a major tsunami was very slim, whew, that was close.!!
It was almost 11am, check-out time, so I grabbed my bag and hopped into a taxi to the airport, it is a flat 450 Bahts ($14) fare, very reasonable. The drivers first comment was “he was glad I was not wearing red”, I gathered that he was not in favour of the anti government demonstrators, but, no, he just objected to them curtailing him from making a living. He had just spent an hour, stuck in traffic, because they were blocking an intersection.
He got me to the airport in 20 minutes, so I gave him 500 Bahts, he was very happy. I found the Air Asia counter and got rid of my bag, they are the Ryan Air of Asia, you pay for everything, I had prepaid my bag, so I breezed through. Compared to the United States, security was also a breeze and before I knew it, I was in a glitzy shopping arcade. I figured this would be the perfect place to find an English Premier Football outlet shop or at least a Manchester United shop, so I was extremely surprised to find there was only an official Arsenal shop, shit, of all the things for a Spurs fan to come across!!
The food court had a really good selection of dishes and I was sort of disappointed that I had had such a big breakfast, so I settled for a Chang beer, 120 Bhats ($3.75) airport cheap, by western standards. I had not seen any postcards in Bangkok, but I found some here at the gift shop along with stamps, I had plenty of time before my 1:30pm flight to write and mail them.
Air Asia, keep the first five rows of the plane available to passenger willing to pay a premium, to board last and exit first, they are the same size as regular seats, it’s just convenience, I had booked seat 6A. As soon as the door closed, the Aussie couple next to me jumped into row five, either side of the aisle, but the steward was quickly down to usher them out, thankfully they spied empty rows at the back and moved there. I was now in a prime position, virtually front row on my own, woohoo.
It was a very uneventful, one and a half hour flight, over the Gulf of Thailand and the central highlands into Krabi, a small one runway, one terminal, airport, with only 2 jetways, one of which was occupied, I somehow knew, we were not going to get the second one. I was right, we pulled up on the tarmac and steps were wheeled over. The blast of hot air when the door opened was like a furnace door opening, it must have been 110 degrees Fahrenheit. Even in shorts and a light shirt, I was drenched in sweat walking the 100 yards to the terminal.
Outside the baggage area was the public bus counter, a ticket to Ao Nang was only 150 Bhats ($4.50) versus 600 Bhats in a taxi, the bus took an hour, but went through two local street markets, which was fascinating, you got to see the sights and smells of the local way of life up close.
When we finally got to Ao Nang, I was really shocked by the size of the town, I had expected a small fishing village, I was very disappointed. This was what I would have expected Phuket to look like, which is why it is not on my list of places to visit. Later that first night, a local told me, Phuket was one hundred times more commercial that Ao Nang, it did not make me feel any better, only that I was right on one thing.
The bus dropped me across the street from my hotel, The Palace, and just as in the photo, the street outside was lined with small scooters. I had thought this would be the only scooter rental in town, silly me, the whole street was lined with scooters! Upon check-in, I was assigned a room on the fourth floor, but when I pointed out my reconstructed left knee, the young lady kindly reassigned me to a rear , pool facing room on the second floor, excellent.
After a quick cold shower and change, it was off to find, The Last Fisherman bar, which was described on Trip Advisor, as a Rastafarian ran joint at the end of the beach. Having lived in the Caribbean, this would be right up my street. Alas when I got there, I found a very nice, ponytailed, goateed Thai bartender, called Tom, who cracked up, when I told him the Rasta story, but not to worry, it was a very cool place, with a ships hull for a bar, much like Larry’s Poorman’s in St. Thomas. I felt quiet at home. On my second beer, I met David, a fellow expat from Essex who now made Ao Nang his home eight months a year. Several years ago, after divorcing his wife, he chucked in his finance job in The City (London) and moved here. He pointed out a small table under a palm tree, that he uses as his office, he can get a signal there for his cell phone and laptop to contact London. He rents a small bungalow up in the hills and his two sons visit periodically, one from Australia, the other from Essex, he reciprocates, but it is always Essex for Christmas and New Years. Not a bad life.
Next I met Brian, a dreadlocked, out of work musician/biker from Bury in Lancashire, who was married to a local girl, who ran a massage parlour. Maybe it was Brian whom the Trip Advisor author had met!!
After a few more beers, I wandered back to the hotel, I was feeling hungry but all the restaurants I passed looked to touristy and western, I needed something authentic. At the hotel I asked the night clerk where he would take his family for fish and he recommended a place by the main ferry pier, a short tuk tuk ride away, he even wrote the name in Thai for me to give the driver.
Fifty Bahts and five minutes later, I was walking into a large fish market come restaurant, I took a table near the rail overlooking the beach and the longtail pier, I ordered, squid salad, a whole baked fish and a large Chang beer, the squid was a bit chewy, so I passed on most of it (luckily), but the baked fish was excellent, blackened on the outside, but beautifully moist and firm inside, with a squirt of fresh lemon and some fried rice, I was in heaven.
There were a few small souvenir stalls outside, but nothing interesting, so I just hopped in another tuk-tuk and headed back to the hotel. It was a little after 9pm, but it still felt like 90 degrees, just like Bangkok, I had hoped the sea breeze would cool things off a little, but it was like a hot exhaust. There were a few people swimming in the pool, so I decided to join them. It was surprisingly cool compared to the roof top bath in Bangkok. I had hoped to strike up a conversation with my new neighbours, but they were all German.
After cooling off, it was time to go and check out my new local pub, the Irish Rover, which was directly across the street from the hotel, how convenient! On their website they advertised all major European and Australian football and sure enough when I walked in, there was premiership football on just about every TV.
It was the typical, Irish pub in a box that was popular in New York during the late eighties and early nineties. Of course it offered all the requisite beers, Guinness, Harp, Smithiwicks, Bass, Stella etc., but when in Rome...I ordered a Chang. I got chatting with a Swiss guy at the bar, it turned out, we had both gotten there on Star Alliance awards, he had cashed in two hundred thousand miles to fly first class from Geneva versus my one hundred and twenty five thousand for Business Class from New York, he thought I had gotten the better deal. We were both subscribers to flyertalk.com, a frequent flyer website for sharing ideas. After a few beers, we both called it a night.
I awoke Thursday morning with a very upset tummy and after a number of visits to the toilet, I knew it was the squid from last night. I barley had time between visits to rush out to the pharmacy for some Alker Seltzer, this put paid to my idea of going island hopping on longtails. Longtails, are the local boats used to ferry people around and get their name from the long prop shaft to the propeller blade. I reconciled myself to being room bound for the next few hours so I switched on the television, maybe there would be some football.
Well I was astounded, just starting was a showing of the 1966 World Cup quarter final, between North Korea and Portugal. I knew the Portuguese won, because they played England in the semi-final and I knew this had been an historic game because, the North Koreas had just knocked Italy out, but I did not remember the details. Wow what a game it was, the Koreans raced out to a remarkable 3-0 lead after thirty minutes, only to be pegged back by Eusebio’s genius, the Portuguese coming back to win 5-3.
My toilet visits were becoming less frequent, but I still was not brave enough to leave the room, so I was hoping for something equally intriguing next on the telly. I was not disappointed, The George Best Story came on, this was fantastic, sick or not, I would have forfeited the noon sun to watch this, it was kismet.
After The George Best show, the television station went back to regular Thai programming, unbelievable, I could not have been sick at a better time! I was starting to feel better and a tad hungry, so I went down to the hotel restaurant, which was deserted. I ordered some chicken with rice and a 7up, it all went down well, I could now venture out into the 100+ degree heat of the afternoon. It’s true what they say, “only mad dogs and Englishmen, go out in the mid-day sun”. I had not gone to far before I realized my folly, so I retreated to find a bit of shade beside the pool.
Three German girls were frolicking in the pool with a ball, they all had good tans, so were not to bothered by the strong sun. Nearby, another German couple were soaking up the rays, in the lobby I had seen some bags and surmised, they belonged to them. You can always tell the people that are leaving, they are getting those last few rays without the SPF factor lotion.
About 4pm I had enough sun and chlorine, it was time to head to the Last Fisherman, my friend, Chang was calling. Neither David or Brian were there, but that did not matter, actually it was for the best, it was a perfect spot to watch the sunset and while yakking with both of them yesterday, I had missed it. It was not a spectacular one, but never the less I enjoyed watching it, while reminiscing, about all the great ones, I had seen in various parts of the world.
With the sun down and the pangs of hunger rumbling through my tummy, it was time to head back to town. The Last Fisherman offered a Thai BBQ at a very good price, but after this morning’s tribulation, I decided something a bit blander would be the wise choice. Back on Main Street, I looked at many restaurant menu’s and finally decided upon a Thai/Italian joint just down the street from my hotel. Nothing spectacular, a Thai shrimp cocktail, followed by, sautéed chicken over pasta, with a large Chang to wash it all down. What was spectacular, were the four European super models, sitting across from me, they were absolutely stunning and dressed to kill. One had her little 17/18 year old brother in tow and her friends were fawning all over him, lucky guy, but on the downside, were two humungous minders, seated at each end of the table, looking very intimidating with the requisite sunglasses. Maybe the girls would get thirsty later and slip out to the Rover? Chance would be a fine thing, Frank, stop dreaming.
The next morning I was up bright and early feeling famished, I went down to the breakfast buffet and settled for 2 fried eggs on toast with coffer and fresh orange juice.
Tummy sated, I grabbed my bag and headed down to the beach, to catch a longtail to West Railey beach, an absolutely beautiful crescent of soft golden powdery sand nestled between spectacular craggy rock formations that formed a small peninsula, the other side of which was East Railay beach. After an hour of sun and swimming, I hiked through the short jungle path to check out the East, but it was a very disappointing mud flat.
When I returned to the Westside, it was getting very, very hot, I thought about leaving but a longtail was just departing, they only leave when they have a minimum of seven passengers, so it could be a while till the next one. I went for a swim, but the water was only mildly refreshing and there was nowhere to hide from the blisteringly hot sun. After half an hour nobody had approached the boatmen for a ride, I could see this turning into a very long wait, so I decided to head for the bar, it was Chang time.
After a beer, I started to feel a little peckish and the food looked rather good, so I ordered a fish sandwich. While waiting for my order, the boatman came up and said they now had enough people to go, I explained I had ordered and declined the offer.
After lunch I wandered back to the beach, figuring I would have another swim while waiting for the next longtail, only to find the original boat was still there, I was obviously the make weight, I felt very bad that everyone had to wait.
Back in Au Nang, I decided the pool was the best course of action, it was then, on the short walk up to the hotel, that I realized there were as many pharmacies as restaurants, I was not the only one getting sick here!
At the pool were the three German girls, laying out topless, soaking up the rays. I chose the shadier side of the pool, put on a little music and settled down for a peaceful afternoon. This would be my M.O. for the next few days, kick back, do nothing, recharge the batteries, no sightseeing or must do things, just chill.
Saturday morning was a little strange, in New York, I’m used to getting up early and having English Premier League football live on the telly, but I was on the other side of the world, it would now be on late at night. I was totally discombobulated all day.
When I finally got to the Irish Rover around eleven p.m., there was Premier League football on the telly, but I was strangely disinterested, was it the time of day or merely the fact that Tottenham Hotspur were playing on Sunday night in the F.A. Cup semi-final against, Portsmouth, which we were odds on favourites to win.
Sunday dawned, another beautiful sunny hot day, it reminded me of St. Thomas. Everyday blends right into the next, until they get some bad weather, and then it is usually really bad, hurricane’s in St. Thomas, tsunami’s here.
By 1:30pm it was to hot by the pool and I started to think about lunch. Last night, I had noticed “The Rover” menu offered a full English/Irish traditional Leg of Lamb or Roast Beef, Sunday dinner, that would hit the spot, superbly, so off I went.
The bar was totally different during daylight, you could actually see there were pictures and ornaments adorning the walls and ceiling. A young man from Essex, England, whom I had met briefly the night before, was having his breakfast beer, so I asked him, how is the roast lunch? His advise was to forget it, the meat was tough and the locals had no clue how to cook it, his recommended an Aussie pie, as a decent substitute.
He took off into the sultry afternoon and I ordered a meat pie and a beer. While waiting, I noticed a picture of an Irish primary school on the wall at the end of the bar. With nothing better to do, I walked over to see what school it was. Imagine my surprise, when I see it is my mother’s school from 1940, St. Colmcille National School, Pulladoey, County Longford. I was in shock.
A few minutes later, while I was eating my pie and chips, a guy walked in, went behind the bar and started changing the TV channels. I said, excuse me, do you work here? I’m the owner, said he. Well, I said, does that school picture on the wall have any relevance to you, or did it just come with the Irish pub in a box?
It’s my father’s school, said he, do you know it?
It’s my mother’s school, said I, we said WOW, together.
I did not know his family name, Reynolds (although I do have Reynolds relatives in Drumlish, Co. Longford), but he knew mine, McNaboe, he particularly remembered my Uncle Michael, who was a shoemaker. Kevin remembered his father taking him there, to the little shop by the lake, and Michael telling him stories. Michael was famous for his story telling, it’s a pity he is not around to read this one, he would love it. Unfortunately he passed away in 1999.
Kevin had to rush off to his other bar, but he said he would be back later, I said I would be in for the Spurs, Portsmouth F.A.Cup semi-final game, we agreed to have a beer and a chat.
I was a little miffed he did not comp lunch or put a up a beer, I’ve spent enough years in the business to know this is a given, something told right there and then, he would not be back. Different people have different reasons for being on the other side of the world.
I returned later that night, but the only person I met was my new friend from Essex, it was disappointing that Kevin did not show-up, but who knows what he is avoiding. A little later, I wished I had not shown up either, Spurs, who were lying fourth in the Premier League, were heavy favourites to beat Portsmouth, who were bottom of the league, odds on favs for relegation and in administration. The game was nil nil at the end of ninety minutes and we lost two nil in overtime. Chelsea had won the other semi-final and I was really looking forward to playing and beating them.
Monday dawned, my last day in Au Nang, normally I have the place to myself for breakfast, but this morning the place is packed, tomorrow, is the start of the Thai New Year festival, Songkran. Unfortunately, when I made all my travel reservations, I did not know about Songkran, otherwise known as The Water Festival, I really wished I was staying.
When I inquired about the bus to the airport for the following morning, I was informed; it did not run on holidays. As an added inconvenience, to having to take a cab, I was informed, that, as Au Nang, was a center for the celebrations, all the roads leading into town, would be closed after 11am. I therefore had to book my taxi for 9am, so that the driver could be back before 11am. It would mean five boring hours at Krabi airport.
I must admit, I had been a little skeptical about the roadblocks, but on our way out of town, the police and barriers were already in place.
The Air Asia flight to Kuala Lumpur was the exact same scenario as the one from Bangkok, the first five rows were empty, I had seat 6F and as soon as the doors closed, the two Aussies beside me jumped into row five and were promptly told to move. Luckily for me, as on the previous flight, they moved to the back!
We landed in KL in a virtual monsoon, the clouds were so low, I did not see the runway until the last minute, so much for getting an aerial view of the city. But the view I did get was amazing, dozens of Air Asia, Airbus 320’s, all lined up at covered walkways, the whole place was an open air terminal, I’d never seen anything like it.
After grabbing some cash from the ATM, I followed the signs for public transport, as I walked out there were several kiosks with guys hawking bus tickets. I waved the first few off, but then realized there were no signs to a train station. I asked one of the bus hawkers, at first he looked puzzled then said “that is at the main international airport, this is only regional carriers”, so I bought a bus ticket and headed out into the parking lot. The rain had temporarily eased-up, but it was still 100 degrees F. Luckily I caught a bus that was just about to depart, at least I would get to see the suburbs of KL, although visibility was quiet limited due to the mini monsoon.
After an hour ride, the bus deposited us at the main railway station. As soon as I alight the bus, being the first westerner, I was surrounded by taxi drivers. One in particular stood out, he was well dressed and groomed, but more importantly, he spoke very good English. I told him my hotel and he quoted me 25 ringetts, approx $8, it was only two subway stops away, but I was too tired to negotiate any more public transport. I grabbed my bag and away we went. In less than ten minutes via Little India, we were at The Maytower Hotel, he was very happy when I gave him 30 rings.
The Maytower is a serviced apartment hotel, I had prepaid $82 for 2 nights, I got a beautiful single room with a queens size bed on the twenty seventh floor with a view of the KL Tower, sweet, but I needed a beer.
After a quick cold shower, a change of clothes, I was off downstairs to find a 7-Eleven. The doorman looked at me a bit bewildered, but when i said, supermarket, he directed me around the corner, 2 blocks into Little India. I found the store, but they did not sell beer. I picked-up a few yogurts and iced coffees for breakfast, deposited them in my fridge and then returned to the frontdoor to ask another doorman for assistance.
This time I asked him for a bar/pub, he understood pub and directed me in the opposite direction to the traffic light and make a right. Sure enough, after about a 10 minute walk, I was outside a very garish looking, Whiskey Pub. Not the normal sort of place I would even contemplate entering, but desperate times (95 degrees & drenched in sweat) call for desperate moves, so in I went. The garishness outside was nothing compared to the interior, the lights were really low, but you still needed sunglasses!! There were about 20 staff and no customers, the thirst could wait, I was not drinking here.
On the way over, I had past an office complex with a, Subway, sandwich shop, neon sign in the lobby, maybe there would be other options, I back tracked.
It was now near 8 o’clock and i had not eaten since a light lunch at Krabi airport. Aside from the Subway, there were Starbucks and Burger King, I’d rather starve! Luckily there was a local luncheon counter that was closing up and I was able to get a tuna noodle salmon salad to go. In the corner of the lobby was a small supermarket, which had a full liquor/beer/wine section, I grabbed a sixpack of Carlsberg, which was reasonably priced at 28 rings, unlike the bottle of Jonnie Walker Black, which a Japanese gentleman was being charge a thousand ringetts for,!!
Back at the hotel, I polished off the tuna and downed a couple of cans, I was exhausted, so I decided to watch a movie and call it a night.
Up bright and early the next morning, I immediately headed down to the pool on the twenty fifth floor, I was awed when I walked out of the elevator. There was a beautiful royal blue, tiled swimming pool, on an open two floor high, deck with Romanesque colonnades at both ends and views of the KL Tower, it was very Greco Roman.
After a quick swim, I decided, I had better get a move on before the heat of the midday sun. I had seen an article on a TV show, “Globetrekker” where the host had a foot massage in a KL market, that required you sticking your feet in a fish pond, and the fish eating all the dead skin off. He said “his feet were totally rejuvenated”, I was dying to try it. The market was on the edge of Chinatown, only one monorail stop away, I had considered walking it, until I got outside; the three blocks to the station were more than enough in the heat.
The market was easily found, I could see it from the monorail as we entered the station. It was all the usual tat when you walk in, carpets, velvet wall hangings, wooden animal carvings etc, etc, I walked around for about 15 mins., and naturally, I found the fish pond in the last aisle. It was a 4x5 foot pool with approx ten stools around three sides and the owner sitting at the end watching his fish. Ten rings for fifteen minutes! seemed a little extravagant, as we were providing the food for his fish!! I forked over my 10 rings and took my shoes off. There were about five people with their feet already in the pool and they were all giggling like little school girls. I dunked my feet in and immediately pulled them out by reflex. It was such a strange sensation having hundreds of fish immediately nibbling your feet, I slowly lowered them back in, and started giggling like everyone else, it was absolutely fantastic, the waves of sensation and relaxation rippled through me, sheer bliss.
When my 15 minutes were up, the proprietor had to come and tap me on the shoulder; I was nodding off in a state of euphoria.
I walked out on cloud nine, this I would have to do again, but now I was headed to the Petronas Towers, the tallest twin towers in the world, (even before the New York one’s were destroyed) and architecturally a lot more stunning, especially at night, when they are lit-up.
After a walk about the towers and the neighbouring park, the heat started to get to me, so I headed back to the hotel and the Roman pool, the mere thought of a cool swim in that beautiful pool, cooled me off for a brief moment.
Lying by the pool, all I could think of, were the skin eating fish, I had to go back, regardless of what else I was going to miss seeing, this was one physical pleasure, I had to repeat.
I made my way back to the monorail, picking up lunch in Little India on the way. Entering the market, my tired feet started to tingle with anticipation. This time it was straight in, and it was ooh so good.
With my feet now in dancing mode, I headed for the Masjid Jamal mosque, which is situated, near my hotel, on the other side of Little India. It was built in 1907 at what is considered the original center of Kuala Lumpur, the convluence of the Sungei Klang and the Sungei Gombak rivers. The mosque is actually on an island with, impressive domes and minarets, built in the Indian style, it is quite breath-taking.
As impressive as the mosque was, my hotel was within sight and I could feel the Greco Roman pool reaching out to me. I zigzagged my way through Little India and low and behold, I came across a 7-11 store, how could the doorman, not know, this was here!!
I picked up a six pack of Chang (all the beer fridges had large signs “not for sale to Muslims”), I would need to pack a few for my train ride in the morning. I had a feeling there would not be any, either at the station or on the train.
After a nice cool swim, I headed for, Jalan Alor, a famous food vendor street, but first I wanted to stop off in Chinatown. This would require 3 trains, the first monorail was easy, but the second in Chinatown was a bit tricky, due to construction, but I found it. Chinatown was packed with market stalls, but it was the same story as Bangkok, only the usual suspects, when it came to football shirts. I gave up, found the train, which was one stop to another monorail and two stops to Bukit Bintang. When I got off, I thought I was in a section of Shinjuku, Tokyo, the whole place was lit up like a Christmas tree, it was almost daylight!! This was where I will stay, if I ever return. There were bars, restaurants and clubs of every nationality, everywhere. After a quick walk about, I got my bearings and found Jalan Alor, it was an outdoor smorgasbord of south Asian foods, the aromas were headingly overwhelming but all of a sudden, I realized, I have an eight hour train ride in the morning, on a non to modern train. Do I really want to take a chance, eating all this great spicy food, something more bland, might be the way to go.
With heavy heart, I turned and back tracked my way out, such disappointment on the verge of a utopian feast, the price of impulsive travel. I wandered around, stunned for a few minutes, until I came upon a decent looking little European style restaurant, with a local clientele. I ordered a large Chang and contemplated the menu, there were a lot of Italian, French and German dishes, maybe they could make them, but if I was feeling adventurous, I’d still be in Jalan Alor, I ordered a steak. Everybody can cook a raw piece of meat, right! Wrong
I knawed my way through the steak and washed it down with two, very suspect, glasses of Italian red wine. That was it, I had, had enough, time to cut my loses, head back to the hotel and get a good nights sleep. I continued on the monorail two more stops which showed a junction with the mono that ran by my hotel at, Masjid Jamek. This whole system is brand new but they obviously don’t understand the word junction? It’s where two or more lines meet, the two mono stops were, approx ¼ mile apart, down a very dark and busy highway and over a footbridge!!!
As mad as they are about the English Premier League in this part of the world, one of the biggest games of the year, Tottenham Hotspur vs Arsenal, was not going to be on television, kick-off would be 4am local time.
I bounced out of bed at 7am and immediately turned on the local sports channel, I had to wait an interminable time before they finally got to the football, YES, Spurs had beaten Arsenal 2-1, oh happy days!! What a great result after losing to Portsmouth on Sunday, next up we had our other big London rivals, Chelsea, on Saturday. That was guaranteed to be on TV, but unfortunately it was at midnight in Singapore and my flight was scheduled to depart, 11:55pm, damn.
I checked out and grabbed a taxi to the station, inquisitive to compare the fare from Tuesday, he went a bit of a circuitous route, but got me there in twelve minutes and for the same price.
My great jungle train trip was about to start, I was quiet excited, it was just after 8am, I had plenty of time before the 9am departure to grab breakfast, but there flashing before me on the departure board, was, 30 min. delay, rats. The delay was then announced over the tannoy system with the added information, that there would be no buffet car. Boy, was I glad I had that inkling yesterday and brought 4 cans of Chang in my little cooler with 2 cans of Green Tea. Now I would need to get something to eat.
I went downstairs, and committed a mortal sin, I went into McDonald’s and got two breakfast sandwiches. I must admit, that at a push, I have resorted to the breakfast sandwich before, but never in Asia. After consuming them, I spied a 7-11, where I picked up a large bottle of water and two, dubious looking, tuna sandwiches, which fit snugly into my cooler bag. I was all set to go, I just needed a train.
Upon my arrival back upstairs, I found the train had been further delayed, another 20 minutes, good job I was not flying out of Singapore tonight.
Finally they gave us the signal to board, the first class car was all the way at the rear of the train, as I walked past the 2nd & 3rd class cars, I was very glad I had paid the extra for 1st, although not quiet so sure when I walked into the car. It had once been the Orient Express of its day, but that day, was a very long time ago.
The car was approx three quarters full, all foreigners, a mix of Japanese, Australian, Europeans and one six foot six Yank, who had the first solo seat. Unfortunately for him, the connecting door to the next car did not have an automatic door closer, every time a crew member went through, which was quiet frequently, he had to jump up and close it. It was very noisy, when the door was open, I could sympathize with him, but it was very funny, made even more so by his garb. White sneakers, long white socks, kaki shorts, Hawaiian shirt and floppy bush hat, obviously he had no access to a mirror.
The porter came around and handed out ½ liter bottles of water with two small teacakes to everyone, this was in apology for the lack of a buffet car, not much consolation for an eight hour trip.
As we rumbled through the countryside south of KL, it was all obvious farmland, but there was distinct lack of livestock, there was a smattering of small towns, few of which we stopped at. Eventually, after almost four hours, we stopped in a large town, Segamat, surprisingly, the Japanese family of three got off, then two Japanese girls boarded, quiet strange.
Apart from some open land around towns and villages, we ran through palm tree plantations that stretched to the horizon, left and right. As we entered Kluang, we very slowly passed the modern day Orient Express, people were sitting in an Edwardian like interior of a very modern carriage, sipping wine and champagne!!
I figured, we were now about an hour and a half from the border at Johor Bahru, and I started to wonder what the procedure would be. Would immigration just walk through the train, or would we have to disembark. A few minutes later, the porter came around with customs and immigration forms and informed everyone, they would have to disembark and take all their possessions. Across the top of the Singapore immigration form was the statement, “DRUG SMUGGLERS WILL BE EXECUTED”, well that’s straight forward, leaves no grey areas.
As we lined up at the immigration counter, I looked around at the train and dogs were being released into each car. Everything went very smooth, only a few people got some extra questioning and after about fifteen minutes we were allowed back onto the train, it was now less than an hour to Singapore and I had saved one beer to celebrate my crossing, cheers.
When we eventually pulled into Singapore, by the time we, first class, walked from the rear of the train, most of the other passengers had disappeared, there were only two couples in front of me at the taxi line. They both got picked up by typical Toyota cabs, but then, to my astonishment, a pink London taxi, pulled up in front of me, WOW, I was flabbergasted. I opened the door, threw my bag in, and the cabbie said, “hello”.
I responded, WOW, you have a London taxi!
He responded, WOW, you know what this is?
I course I do, I’m from London! My cousin drives one of these in London, black though, not pink.
You are the first person, that has known what this is.
Where did you get it?
Some friends and I imported twelve of them through Hong Kong, each one is painted a different colour, I got pink.
When we got to my hotel, The Bencoolen, I asked him to get out and pose for a photo, which he did. All the staff were standing in the door way, baffled! They had never seen a pink London taxi before. Upon entry I explained what had just happened, I was treated like a celebrity, welcome to Singapore.
It was a nice size room with a queen size bed, but most importantly, it had a brand new, sparkling clean bathroom. I grabbed a quick shower and headed out to explore, as the daylight was rapidly receding.
I walked to the corner of Bencoolen and Bras Basah Road, to the right was the Orchard Road district, to the left was the Marina Bay area, with all the big hotels, Raffles, Mandarin, Ritz Carlton etc., for some unknown reason I chose left. I knew Singapore had a reputation for cleanliness, but this was ridiculous, it was completely sanitized.
After walking for about twenty minutes and with Niagara Falls dripping from my forehead I finally came across an upscale bar, Dirty Nelly’s Irish Pub. I ventured in, passing a group on their way out, they were all twenty something, city (Wall St) boys, awfully, awfully, old chap, what what!! Just the type I hate, obnoxious, money grabbing little shits.
I got a large, overpriced, S$14 Chang at the bar and took my time sipping it, as I mopped my brow and gathered my thoughts. The idea of spending the next two days bumping into these asshole everywhere was very disgruntling. What to do? Dinner was the next hurdle to cross.
Walking back towards the hotel, I stopped into a complex I had seen on the way down, Chijmes. It was a restaurant/bar/entertainment complex, housed inside an imitation Indian fort, or at least that was what I imagined. Walking around, it was much like more Dirty Nelly’s, including it’s clientele, I stopped and had a beer at Bobby’s Taproom, of course there was Premier League football on all the TV’s, but this was not for me, I left after one beer. There had been a very modern hawker hall (food stands) on the corner of Bras Basah & Bencoolan, I decided to head for that.
Now I had seen a lot of these places on the Travel Channel and this was not the norm. It was all glass, chrome and marble (I later found out it was a chain), called Kopitiam, but it was serving local food. After looking around all the stalls, I settled on Thai BBQ seafood over rice with a beer to wash it down, it was superb, I went back for seconds.
Although it was not late, I was beat, there was a 7-11 next door, so I grabbed a couple of beers and headed for my hotel, just up the street. I was going to plug in my Zune (mp3 player) to the TV and watch a movie, but this TV did not have the sockets, so I was forced to watch local programming. Unlike Thailand and Malaysia, I could not find any football, so I settled for the BBC world news. It was here that I first learned of the Icelandic volcano that was spectacularly exploding, spewing a huge cloud of ash all over northern Europe, shutting down air traffic. I was not concerned, as I was not flying through Europe till Sunday morning, but I did start to fantasize, that I might get delayed here for Saturday night, in which case I would find the Singapore Spurs supporters club and watch the Chelsea game with them.
Friday morning I was up bright and early and turned on the local news while I got showered. As I got out, I heard the announcement; all Singapore Airlines flights to Europe have been cancelled for today, yeah, I might get to stay until Sunday. The newscaster then went on to say, there was chaos at Changi airport, with thousands of stranded passengers.
New Yorkers might like to think that Times Square is the crossroads of the world, but Singapore, truly is. Virtually all flights from southeast Asia, the Pacific Islands, Australia and New Zealand to Europe, stop, refuel and transfer passengers at Changi, it’s a shoppers paradise. Hotels around the airport were charging exorbitant amounts for rooms, for them it was Christmas.
I went downstairs for breakfast, which was served al fresco on the sidewalk, OJ, two fried eggs on toast and good strong coffee set me up for the day. After breakfast, I went to see the front desk manager to inquire about a possible room for tomorrow night. She regretfully told me, they were fully booked, I inquired if all the guests were here yet? No, she said, well, I asked, how many are coming from Europe?
I could see the little light bulb that just went on over her head, if we could not leave, they could not arrive. After a quick consultation with her computer, she guaranteed me a room tomorrow if I was delayed. I thanked her profusely and happily set off sightseeing for the day.
I walked to Dhoby Ghaut SMRT station, which is a major subway junction at the end of Orchard Road, but unfortunately, I was told, at the information desk, that the tourist pass was not sold there; I would have to go one stop to City Hall. Now it got a little strange, I went to a machine to buy a one stop ticket, which is S$1:50 but when I touched the screen button, it asked for S$2:50!! I went back to the info counter and the girl told me, there is a S$1 ticket deposit, when I get to City Hall, simply put the ticket into the deposit return machine, and it would yield S$1. What a great way to deter littering!
I bought my ticket and went down the escalator, it was incredible, the whole station, was made of marble, and of course, immaculately clean. The train itself, was the same as the ones in Hong Kong and Shanghai, open cars so that you can walk straight through, but strangely, there were lots of red and white, hanger type tags hanging from the overhead handrail, advertising ”Javamaids” with only an S$188 agency fee, 50% off with this flyer, how strange. Do people forget that they have not booked a maid for the day and grab a flyer on the way to the office!!
One stop later, I got off at City Hall, it was just as grandiose, as the previous station. After exiting the turnstile, I put my ticket in the refund machine and I promptly got my dollar back, excellent system. I then went to the information window to get my pass, I had brought my passport for ID, but the young lady never asked for it. I was going to get a 2 day but decided on 3, as it really looked like I would be delayed.
With my new pass in hand, my first stop was Marina Bay, to get a look at the new Sands Hotel, which looks amazing. Unfortunately, when I came out of the station, the whole area was under construction. Between the station and The Sands, were about 3 other construction sites, with assorted trucks whizzing in and out, and no sidewalks, I just turned around and went back down the escalator.
After stops at Raffles Place (Wall Street) and Orchard Road (shopping district) I carried on, on the Red Line until it came over ground at a stop called, Bishan, where I got off, to see what the suburbs were like. When I came up the escalator, I was in a small shopping center and the first store in my line of vision, was, McDonald’s, ugh.
Walking around, apart from the cleanliness, I could be in any small shopping center in the U.S. or Europe; there was nothing to see here. Part of the complex, was a bus station, I looked up Bencoolen St., the number 27 went there, I was further in luck when it turned out to be a double-decker, perfect for sightseeing.
As we travelled along, I had the feeling I was travelling through some Florida suburb, all the houses were cookie cutter ranch style in neat little cul de sac’s with palm trees. As we got closer to the city center, the houses gave way to apartment complex’s, also very neat and tidy, finally I started to see some old colonial style buildings and by the aroma’s and signs, I realized, I was in Little India. It was all just as my pink taxi friend had told me, Singapore is so small, “we do not have time for saving old neighbourhoods, we demolish and rebuild, upwards”. Very sad, but Little India seems to be surviving.
I rang the bell to get off, but the next stop was the top of Bencoolen St., I was going to walk back to Little India, but a lively market square drew my interest instead, as I walked through the colourful stalls to my right, I spied a huge hawkers market. I drawn to it, like a bee to honey, the overwhelming aromas of, barbecue, sweet n’ sour, ginger, pork, chicken, chili’s, and curry, were mind boggling, this was heaven.
Walking around all the stands, about forty in all, each a small six foot counter with a kitchen behind and two large dining courts, I felt like a kid in a candy store, I did not know where to start, but finally decided upon BBQ Thai chicken legs with fried eggs and rice, awesome.
Leaving the hawkers market, I continued to my right and came across Bugis market, a warren of stalls selling all the usual crap, watches, perfumes, knock off fashions, T shirts and of course the ubiquitous football shirts, all the usual suspects, not a Spurs shirt in sight. But I was cheered by the fact, that I actually saw two kids, wearing real ones, finally! Wandering around, the only thing I wanted, were postcards for my god-daughter and siblings in Ireland. I came across a fresh fruit, juice stand, I have heard of soursop, but never tasted it, so for S$1, I got a large cup, it was delicious. Then I spied wheatgrass with sugarcane water, this, I had to try, oh my god, it was fantastic. This I would have to come back for.
I grabbed some postcards, which were handily beside the juice stand and headed out, feeling so refreshed from the wheatgrass. It was now mid afternoon, with the sun beating down and my feet crying out to me, stop walking!! So I headed for the hotel to rest-up and write my cards.
I caught up on the news and every channel was saying the same thing, this volcano could go on spouting gases and ash for months, one thing for sure, there were going to be no flights tomorrow, I would be staying for the Chelsea game.
After a little nap, it was time to go looking for a happy hour, on my way out, I stopped at the desk to enquire about a room for tomorrow night. I was told, I would have to see the day manager in the morning, she would be coordinating all stranded stays. Well, I had already spoken to her, so I headed to a little place I had spotted around the corner, “The Public House”, what a great name, that says it all.
Earlier, the place had been pretty quiet, but now there were long tables set up in the courtyard, they were all full and not with the expat, yuppie types, I had encountered last night, but local office and shop workers, much more my scene.
Inside it was pretty crowd also, but I was lucky and got an empty stool at the bar, just inside the door, I ordered a Chang and sat back to take in my surroundings. Oh no, there was Manchester United paraphernalia all over the place, well at least I had found somewhere to watch the Manchester derby tomorrow evening!
Being a Friday evening after work crowd, they were all hanging out in small clicks, no solo patrons to strike up a conversation with, I made some small talk with the bartender, but he was to busy to really chat, he recommended I try Clark Quay.
After a few more happy hour beers, normally, bottles of Chang or Tiger are S$10 (US$7:75) but now are S$8 (US$6), sweet, I headed to Dhoby Ghaut, subway station for the one stop trip to Clark Quay, I would have walked, but there was a huge hill (Fort Canning Park) in between and the road around was long.
When I exited the station, I instinctively turned left towards the river and as I approached the bridge over The Singapore River, I could see the neon glow from all the bars, restaurants and catapults. Yes, catapults, huge steel tripods, lit up like christmas trees, that hurl people out over the river, wow, get me out of here, quick.
I returned to the subway and caught the next train, one more stop, to Chinatown, This was more like it, although there were plenty of tourists, there were also lots of locals but most importantly, no ex-pats. I crossed Eu Tong Sen Road, and there was a hawker stand on the corner, well I won’t starve! Walking along I cut down Temple Street, all the streets were pedestrian malls, and down the middle were long tables and chairs for dining from the assorted little store front kitchens. The wafting aromas of garlic, ginger, sweet n sour, lemongrass and peppers, hung in the air, with the crackling of meats on open grills. This without a doubt was the best Chinatown, I had ever been in and I’ve been in a few. The scene was completed by multi coloured Chinese lanterns, strung across the streets, quiet surreal, in a way. Interspersed between the food stands were foot/back massage palours, Chinese art stores and of course, the ever present T shirt & silk robe store.
At the end of Pagoda Street, I turned the corner and was surprised to see a huge Indian Temple, Sri Mariamman. It was fantastically gaudy, with dozens of brightly painted Hindu carvings on a pyramid style structure over the main door, all lit up by discreetly positioned spotlights. It was a sight to behold. I turned back up Temple Street and now started to concentrate more on the food as my stomach was screaming out, FEED ME!!
Finally I spied what I was looking for, crispy roast duck legs with fried rice, I ordered two and two spring rolls from the cart next to it, I asked about a beer and he just pointed across the street, I followed his finger and a guy waved at me, I waved back and shouted, Chang. He waved me to sit down, as did the duck vendor. I took my spring rolls and sat at a table a few feet away. Within seconds my beer arrived, shortly followed by the duck, I was in heaven. Sitting there, enjoying my feast, I noticed a foot massage parlour, just a few doors down and decided that would be my next stop.
For just S$20 (US$15) I got a thirty minute foot massage that put me on cloud nine, the best money I have spent in years, I literally floated out the door.
After another wander around the area, I was pretty tired and headed for the subway and home, maybe a nightcap at The Public House!
Alas the pub was closed, so I settled for a few beers from the 7-11 and retired to my room to catch the latest on the volcano. Sure enough it was still spewing hot ash and gas, the European Union were closing all airspace for the weekend. This was now having a major domino effect on airlines, airports and hotels all around the world. All European trains and ferries were running at capacity, there were stories surfacing in the press, of people going to outlandish lengths to get to their destinations. British comedian, John Cleese, of Monty Python fame, took a taxi from Oslo, Norway via Denmark, to Brussels, Belgium, to catch the Eurostar Train to England, just one of many.
Saturday morning dawned and the local news announced that all flights from Singapore to Europe were cancelled for the weekend. I called Singapore Air, not only to confirm the cancellation, but also to confirm my existence, in Singapore.
Next I went down to see the delectable, Sandra, she greeted me with a knowing smile, I just nodded, yes I’m delayed, she handed me a voucher for breakfast and said, “no problem”.
Most of the other guests at breakfast had also been delayed and surprisingly, everybody was in a good mood about it. One theme everybody agreed upon, was, that the hotel were not gouging us for higher rates. I had booked four months in advance through a broker in Bangkok (Agoda), for S$110 per night, now I was paying the walk-in rate of S$128, pretty good deal.
After my usual breakfast, it was time to find an internet cafe and look up the Singapore Spurs club for tonight’s game, Sandra, recommended one a few blocks up Bencoolen St.. As I wandered up there, I passed The Ibis Hotel. I had checked their rates before I booked the Bencoolen, and it was approx S$175 per night, now they had a large sign outside, advertising, rooms available, S$550 per night, wow, glad I did not book there.
The internet cafe was just past The Ibis, talk about cheap, S$1 per hour. In minutes I found the club on Google, they met up in a pub nearby in Little India, The Colonial. As Little India was just up the road, I decided to find it now and save time messing around with a taxi just before midnight.
Little India along with Chinatown seem to be the only parts of Singapore that have not been razed and rebuilt with highrises, it was nice to wander around the old twisting streets with their two and three story colonial buildings, the pungent aroma of curry and cardamom infusing your nostrils.
After zigzaging my way through the neighbourhood, I came out by the canal at the junction of Serangoon and Sungai Roads beside a huge mall, damn, I thought, I missed it. But as I scanned the far side of the canal, there it was, with a huge cockerel (Tottenham Hotspur emblem) banner, hanging from the balcony, brilliant.
I scurried over the bridge, naturally they were not open yet, but staff were setting up the sidewalk tables, I enquired about the game later and they confirmed it would be on at midnight, I thanked them and said I would be back.
I had almost come full circle, it was only a short walk along the canal to Bencoolan St., I proceeded past it to the next major junction, which was Bugis, I only had one thought in mind, wheatgrass with sugarcane water.
Having sated my thirst, I caught the subway from Bugis station, two stops to Raffles Place, I wanted to check out The Fullerton Hotel and the section of the waterfront, that is used for the Formula One Grand Prix race. As I exited the subway, I noticed a sword shop that had a display of miniature and full size samurai swords in the window, what really caught my eye, was a desk paper weight, a samurai helmet and sword on a marble base, it was beautiful, but unfortunately, it was Saturday and this was the heart of the financial district, so everything was closed. I would have to return on Monday.
I was going to go in and have a drink at The Fullerton bar, but it looked rather snooty, so I passed. Across the bridge outside, which is one of only two, over water, that Formula One cars cross, (the other is in Valencia, Spain), is the Singapore Cricket Club. The setting of the club in front of the supreme court and the town hall, really takes you back to the old colonial days. It must be quiet a contrast to see, when the F1 cars are flashing by at 200 mph.
Unfortunately, there was no cricket game in progress, I’m not a big fan, but this would have been a perfect setting, to sit down under a shady tree and indulge the game for a few hours.
The city was very quiet for a Saturday, as I meandered my way back to Bencoolen St., by the time I got there, it was time for a little lunch, the Kopitiam hawker market, Thai seafood was calling, perfect timing.
When I came out in to the furnace of the Singapore afternoon, I decided exploring the hotel pool might be the best course of action for the afternoon. The pool itself was tiny, but on the plus side, I had it to myself. There was a lot of shade which in turn kept the water cool, it was nice to just lie back, relax and clear my mind of everything, flights, volcano’s, football and work, bliss. I actually dozed off for about 40 mins., a real 40 winks!! Despite the shade, I still felt a little crispy when I woke, so I went upstairs for a cold shower.
After the shower, I turned on the TV to get an update on the volcano, but was surprise that the local channel had the English Premier League preview show on, brilliant.
Being twelve hours ahead of New York, made it very easy to know the times of the football games from England, just switch am for pm. The Manchester derby was at 7:45 pm, after which, there were three live games at 10pm, Fulham vs Wolves, Blackburn vs Everton and Birmingham vs Hull, none of which, interested me, I would have dinner after the Manchester game at the hawker market across the street from the hotel, somehow, I had completely blanked it for the last two days. Then wander to The Colonial.
I got to the Public House about 7:15pm, there was already a good size crowd in, but I was lucky and got the same stool I had the previous night, the bartender remembered me and got me my first Chang on the house, the night was looking good.
The crowd were quiet raucous, but nowhere near as vocal as, Nevada Smith’s in New York, when led in song by, Lyndsey & Louis in full anti-city mode. It was a good, to and fro affair, looking like a nil, nil, draw, until Paul Scholes, struck the winner for United in injury time, damn!
I made my way around the corner to the M11 hawker mart, the first stand inside the door was Thai seafood, so I ordered a small portion of shrimp for S$3 and took a seat to peruse the rest of the stand offerings. The guy at the drink stand in the corner motioned at me with a glass tipping motion, I mouthed back, large Carlsberg, he was over in a flash, S$6, what a bargain. The stand beside my seat was serving local meat and veg, I decided to go with that, Oxtail stew, rice, beans and mixed peppers, was S$4, WOW. It was delicious.
Finishing up, it was now about 11pm, I had a little time to kill before the Spurs game, so I stopped off at the internet cafe to catch up on all the football results and latest news.
I wandered into The Colonial Pub, just after midnight, there were only a few supporters in so far, but the president of the club had a small Spurs memorabilia stand set up. I inquired if he had a Singapore supporter’s shirt for sale? They quickly found me one for S$20, a bargain. I explained who I was and I was surprised they had heard of me. Frankspurs, is my New York nickname and I use it on all the message boards. These guys were fanatical, they even knew that I did not get along with the New York Spurs supporter’s club, they must analyze every Spurs message board in the world!!
By the time the game kicked off at 12:30am, there was a really good crowd in. Spurs started very brightly and after fifteen minutes we got a penalty, which Jermaine Defoe put away, shortly after, Gareth Bale shot home from a David Bentley cross and Spurs were cruising, up 2-0 at half time. Twenty minutes into the second half, John Terry, Chelsea captain, got a second yellow card for hand ball and was sent off. Spurs peppered the Chelsea goal but Petr Cech, the goalkeeper was in superb form. Frank Lampard, got an injury time consolation goal for the visitors, final 2-1.
We all broke out into wild celebrations and singing, this was the first time Spurs had beaten Chelsea, at home, in the league, since 1998. Another round of drinks before closing, then we all piled out onto the street at 3am. Thankfully it was only 10-15 minute walk back to my hotel, it was to be the coolest walk I would have in Singapore, the temperature had dropped to the upper eighties!
Sunday morning it was tough getting up and downstairs before the official 11am check-out time to reconfirm my room for another night. I made it, but only just, as I had missed breakfast, it would have been nice to go back to bed for another hour’s sleep, but the Chinese Formula One Grand Prix was on at 2pm.
After a quick shower, I had some breakfast at a little cafe around the corner, beside the Public House, then caught a bus up Orchard Road to try and find an Irish bar that I had seen were advertising, airing the race. I asked the bus driver, if he went by it and he told me to change at Orchard Turn. When I disembarked, I found there were dozens of buses at this stop, I could figure out which bus, but the chances were, that said Irish bar would probably be in a mall. Right there in front of me, was a lovely little bar, called Harry’s, why look any further, beside’s, it was almost 2pm.
The sidewalk cafe was busy, but inside, there were only a couple of tables occupied and nobody at the small bar. The bartender was only to glad to put the race on, but I had not taken into account the hour difference from Shanghai to Singapore, the race was at 3pm, oh well, just have to watch the pre-race programming.
In a trilling rain soaked race, where the Red Bulls started first and second on the grid, reigning world champion, Jensen Button, starting fifth, took advantage of an early safety car deployment and pit stops to take the victory. He was followed over the line, by his team-mate, 2008 world champion, Lewis Hamilton, who had started alongside Jensen in sixth. A brilliant one two finish for the McLaren team.
Next I was off to find an address, Cairn Hill Road, which was just off Orchard Road. After my surprise Longford connection in Krabi, I was intrigued to see this road. Cairn Hill, is the largest hill in the midlands of Ireland, and just happens to be just a short distance from Drumlish, it dominates the scenery. Somebody from Drumlish must have been one of the founders here. We do get about!!
It was now time for a little siesta, Wigan were playing Arsenal that night, at 9pm, which I was planning to watch at the Public House after dinner at M11.
Entering M11, I immediately ordered more Thai shrimp, but what a surprise I got when I turned around to face the dining room, there were Arsenal shirts all over the place, looking at me? I looked up and there was a 42 inch plasma TV over the first table with the pre-game show on, brilliant. I had sat at that table last night and never looked up, to hell with the Public House and their S$10 small 12 oz. beers; I’m staying here for the game and S$6 twenty oz. Carlsberg’s.
The guy at the stand where I got the oxtail last night remembered me and suggested 2 different lamb dishes he had on offer, I combined the two with rice and veg, again, delicious. I was in paradise, great cheap food, cheap beer, served by beautiful local girl and football on the telly, what more could a man want, bliss.
The game kicked off and of course I started cheering for Wigan, everybody around me looked confused, what was I doing? I had put on my new Spurs Singapore shirt and pointed out the cockerel to them, but they did not get the connection. They were all arsenal supporters, but had no idea of the rivalry and hatred with Spurs, sad.
Arsenal were 1-0 up at half time and shortly after, went 2-0 up, basically I knew deep down, Wigan had very little chance of coming back from this, but I still kept cheering them on, by now a couple of the locals had got into some banter with me. They kept telling me to give it up, but then Wigan scored in the 86th minute, I was pumped, maybe they could salvage the draw? In the 91st minute, injury time, they got the equalizer and there were still another three minutes, I was ecstatic and then they scored the winner, WOW, what a weekend, Spurs beat Chelsea and Arsenal lose to Wigan, brilliant, I’m a very happy camper. The locals around me are all stunned, I try to explain, football is a funny old game, that’s why we play it!!
Monday morning dawns and the volcano is still spewing its guts out, after booking another night I decide, there must be a beach on this island, somewhere! Not being the type to ask for directions, (no it’s not that male thing). If I need to get someplace I will ask, this was about exploring, I set off with my transit pass for the eastern side of the island, I got off at a subway stop where there was a bus station, but when I asked the info man which bus ran to the seaside, he looked perplexed, I asked for the coast, again, perplexed, I left and went to look at the bus maps. I selected a bus route that looked like it ran along the coast for a few miles, the bonus was, it was double decker, I’ll get to see something, or so I hoped, but it was exactly like the other day, Floridian looking and we never got to see the sea. Finally the bus pulled into a depot and I jumped off, I inquired where the nearest subway was, luckily it was only a few minutes on another bus.
While waiting for the subway, I studied the map and saw a stop called Chinese Garden, that’s where I headed.
When I got off the train, I found out that there was also a Japanese Garden, double bonus, sometimes the best things are unplanned.
At the entrance was a splendid seven story pagoda, flanked by statues of ancient scholars and leaders, Lin Zexu, (scholar), Zneng He, (explorer), Hua Mulan, (heroine warrior), Guan Yu, (army general) Qu Yuan, (poet) and finally Confusius, (philosopher). The shrubbery was, sculpted, bent and cut into dragon shapes, but the gem of the gardens, had to be the bonsai tree exhibition. They were cut into incredible shapes, but upon further investigation, some of them were between, six and seven hundred years old, absolutely mindboggling that more than ten generations had kept these trees clipped and that they could still be living, long after my youngest relative, alive today.
I have seen a lot of the worlds oldest trees, most of which are huge, ie, the Sequoia’s in California, when I saw the original “Robin Hood” oak tree in Sherwood Forest, some twenty years ago, all of it’s branches were propped up by splints, they all have size in common. These little trees were absolutely amazing, but need constant attention.
Crossing over into the Japanese section, it was disappointing, to say the least. I have been to Japan on several occasions and even built gardens, here in New York, myself, but these were pitiful, such a disappointment.
On the way back to the hotel, I decided to stop off at the Singapore Air ticket office, on Orchard Road, to try for the direct flight to Newark in person. I did not have the exact address but figured they would have a big neon sign. When I exited the subway, there was nothing obvious so I asked the doorman at The Marriott hotel, He told me it was across the road but was packed. He advised me that SIA had set up a special desk at the Marina Bay Mandarin hotel, staffed by management, who had gotten results for some of their guests.
I hopped on a bus and was down there in a few minutes, I found the desk in the third floor lobby. It was staffed by a very well dress, middle-aged lady and there were no clients. I explained what I was trying to do and she was very sympathetic to my cause, she checked the flight for the next morning and found it had two vacant seats. Now getting one for me would be a challenge, she told me to go and have a beer in the lounge and she would call me. Half an hour later, she called me, surprise, surprise, she had secured one of the seats for me, but needed Delta to reissue my ticket, in order to confirm it.
I called Delta’s customer service but they said there was no reservation in my name for that flight and that they could not reissue a ticket without a confirmed seat, they said I should get the SIA agent to call them. I went back to the desk and explained the catch 22 dilemma, she agreed to call Delta direct, which was against protocol, but when she dialed the number, she got an office closed for the day message, it was 7:01pm, damn, so close.
Oh well, I wanted to go to the zoo tomorrow and now I could.
I walked back towards Bencoolen and stopped for Thai BBQ seafood at Kopitiam, it was time for a movie in my room and an early night.
Next morning, I was up bright and early, had my usual breakfast, rebooked my room for that night and set of for the subway at Dhoby Ghaut, it was nine stops to Choa Chu Kang station where I would have to get a bus to the zoo.
The bus ride was very long, deep into the countryside but I understood when I got inside. It was unlike any zoo I have ever visited, the animals all had huge enclosures to roam around in, with virtually no fences, they use water moats to great effect. Although the park has three tram loops, and a ferry to get you around, I walked for miles.
By the time I got back to Bencoolen, I was totally exhausted. I just grabbed a couple of beers from the 7-11 and headed upstairs for a lye down. I was pleasantly surprised when I turned on BBC World News and they announced that some flights were being allowed into and out of Northern Europe, the volcanic ash cloud was moving further north. I immediately called the dedicated SIA hot-line, but all flights were still cancelled, check back Wednesday morning. I decided there and then, I would go straight to the SIA ticketing office in the morning.
As soon as I awoke on Wednesday morning, I called the SIA number and the flight to Frankfurt was scheduled for that night, I was not cancelled the first night, therefore I did not expect to get on it, so I rebooked my room for the night.
Upon arrival at the ticketing office, the place was mobbed, fortunately they had three separate number waiting lists, I only waited about thirty minutes to see an agent. Unfortunately, the news was bad, as far as SIA were concerned, I was flying on a free ticket and was going to the back of the line, the agent estimated I might get out in a week to ten days, if I’m lucky, great!
I pointed out that I was a Star Alliance Gold member and that this was a Delta Gold ticket, I tried the direct Newark flight, again, she only offered to let me call Delta on her phone, to see if they would authorize it.
After explaining the situation for the umpteenth time, I was put on hold. After ten minutes, the SIA agent said she was going on break, but I could stay on the phone. Forty five minutes later, she returned and I was still on hold!!
About ten minutes later, the Delta agent came back on the line, to offer me a 6am next morning flight to Narita, Japan with onward connection, direct to JFK in First/Business class, did I want it? YES PLEASE, I yelled into the phone, great, I was checked-in, just had to show up at Changi by 4am.
I hung up the phone and the SIA agent was looking at me in disbelief, they got you a flight tomorrow? Wow. I explained, they would not have done it yesterday as I was still a SIA passenger, but when SIA refused to honor the ticket today, I became their responsibility.
I skipped out the door and down the street to Harry’s Bar, a couple of glasses of bubbly to celebrate, I had successfully manipulated the system again, it works.
All of a sudden, I realized, it’s 2pm, I only have a few hours left in Singapore, I’ll have to be up by 2am to make it to Changi airport by four, things to do!
First stop, Bugis market for a sugar cane wheat grass and some nibbles in the food court, next stop, a beer at The Colonial Pub, fond memories of the Chelsea game, then back to the hotel, preliminary packing followed by an early dinner at the M11 hawker stand. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy, to be going home from a trip.
It only seemed like moments since I had laid my head on the pillow, when the alarm went off at 3am, but I bounced up, into the shower and was out the door in thirty minutes with a yogurt for breakfast. Downstairs there were several taxi’s waiting and a ride to the airport was manna from heaven. The streets were deserted and we made it in twenty minutes, I don’t remember the fare, but it was very reasonable.
It was eerie walking through an empty terminal, I was surprised by it’s emptiness, given the number of people stranded here for the past five days. I checked my bag, although it could have fit in the overhead, but I did not feel like lugging it around for the next hour and a half and then through Narita, I could wait a few minutes at JFK.
I found the First/Business lounge up an escalator on a glass mezzanine floor, that overlooked the terminal. There were two other guests, asleep in chairs and apart from the girl at the desk, there did not seem to be anybody on duty. I got some juice, a large latte and a couple of Danish before settling down in front of CNN news. They were estimating that 60 to 70% of European flights would be operating today, oh well, I was headed in the opposite direction. It was only then, that I realized, I was circumnavigating the globe on this trip, wow, it was time for a celebratory glass of bubbly. Everything at the bar was open, except there was no champagne, I checked the fridge, sure enough, there were a couple of bottles, so I cracked one open, farewell to Singapore and here’s to circumnavigating the globe, cheers.
The flight to Narita is just under six hours and my connecting flight to New York was at 3:15pm, not very much time to get to the lounge and enjoy the Japanese beer machines. You put a frosty mug in the cradle, push the button, the cradle raises the glass to a 45 degree angle and starts pouring beer, lowering the glass as it fills, producing a perfectly poured glass of beer, excellent.
What I had not counted on was a security check point between gates, this slowed me down considerably, they were calling my flight as I entered the lounge, I had time for two beers and a couple of the delicious little egg sandwiches they serve.
Upon boarding, I mentioned to the crew, how good it felt to be finally going home after being stranded in Singapore, they were very apologetic, offering me extra champagne. I explained, they had nothing to apologize for, after the ash cloud lifted, Singapore Air abandoned me on a Delta mileage ticket, Delta had come to the rescue.
Well now they were beside themselves to fuss over me, it was like I had my own personal steward, this was way better than Singapore Air service, I think that was the point they were making. The flight was just under thirteen hours and I managed to sleep about seven of them. It rounded off a great trip.

Barcelona2010

2010-04-02T07:09:00.000-07:00

Barcelona is currently riding a wave of popularity, with a reputation for great food and exciting night-life. Every year towards the end of February, my friend Steve and I try to get a long weekend away, for numerous reasons, the foremost of which is my birthday, followed by a needed for winter break plus an opportunity to start building our air mileage accounts for the year.
The past two years we have gone to Seattle, a perennial favourite of ours, since we discovered it back in 2004, so it was time for a change. With Barcelona being so prominently promoted, I looked into airfares and they were vastly cheaper than any other European destination. I ran the idea past a few other friends, Clive who had joined us in Seattle last year, could not make it, Mike, whose birthday is the day before mine, wanted to, but had just started a new job and could not get the time off. Chris in London though, was definitely up for a boy’s jolly weekend in Barcelona.
Steve and I had both been invited to our mutual friend, Sid’s, 50th birthday party in Newport, South Wales. Given a choice between Barcelona and S. Wales it was no contest, but Steve was humming and hawing. I knew he was waiting to see if his beloved Manchester United would make the League Cup final at Wembley.
Well they made the final and that sealed the deal for Steve, Chris was also a Man. Utd. fan, nad he was going to the game with Steve.
Undeterred, I booked a solo ticket. Upon consulting the fare matrix at Continental Airlines, I discovered that the a one stop trip, via either, Frankfurt, Munich, London or Milan was the same price as a non-stop and would get me another one thousand elite qualifying miles towards my status for the year.
I opted for Milan, as it was the longest layover, eight hours, which would give me time to leave the airport and visit the great Milan Duomo, have lunch, but still get me to Barcelona for dinner.
Steve and I met at Clancy’s the night before our trips, Wednesday Feb. 24, along with a few others to have a birthday drink. The weather forecast was predicting a large Nor’easter snow storm to start on Thursday afternoon, American Airlines had called Steve and invited him to change his London flight from 8pm to 8am, a nice perk of being a platinum elite member. Unlike London, with it’s numerous flights, I was stuck with the one flight to Milan. Our friend Dave, who was flying American via London to Brussels was not having the same luck as Steve. He ended up missing his connection in London Friday morning and spent all day travelling via Frankfurt to Brussels.
When I awoke Thursday morning it was already snowing rather heavy, the weather channel had a reporter at Newark airport and it did not look good, virtually all domestic flights had already been cancelled, but the Internationals were still scheduled.
I kept checking the flight schedules all day and both Milan and Barcelona were still on. By the time I left for the airport, we had four inches on the ground and I was feeling a little trepid about maybe making a wasted trip. At Newark, everything was very quiet as I made my way to Gallagher’s Steak House for my usual pre-flight meal, steak sandwich as jus on a baguette with a glass or two of a good red, it sets you up perfect for a good nights sleep.
It was quiet ironic, my two fellow diners at the bar, were individually both travelling to the same destinations as me, he to Barcelona, then onward to Dakhla, in southern Morocco and she to fashion week in Milan. While she looked like she belonged in Milan, I was intrigued as to how this guy was going on business to a tiny town on the Moroccan Atlantic coast. He asked if I had ever heard of kite sailing. I said yes, it looked amazing when I saw it in Florida. Well he made the boards, how fascinating.
My flight left the gate right on time, but we then had to be de-iced, which took almost an hour, then it was up and away to Milan, where we arrived only forty minutes late, what could go wrong now!!
I got my Barcelona boarding pass from Lufthansa and headed for the train station, I was in central Milan by 10:30am, I had five hours to explore, I visited the castle first as it is next to the station, but it was rather disappointing. I took the subway 3 stops to the Duomo, when you come up the metro steps, it just takes your breath away, I thought Notre Dame in Paris had intricate stone work, but this was just stupendous, the tiny detailed carving was mind boggling. After photographing the outside I then ventured inside, again it was, a take your breath away experience. I sat down to contemplate the structure, it had not dawned on me before, but the people who designed this and all the other great cathedrals of Europe, never saw their designs come to fruition, they would have barley seen the foundations laid. Several generations of stone masons would have worked on it as would carpenters, glazers, iron workers etcetera.
I chose a little restaurant at the end of the large galleria beside the Duomo for lunch, it was very busy which is normally a good sign, but it was very disappointing, nothing like the great lunches I had experienced in Florence.
With that sour taste in my mouth, I headed back to the airport, hopefully the Lufthansa lounge would be a better experience. After breezing through security, which is vastly different than in the U.S. I found the lounge at the rear of the duty free zone, surprise, surprise. They were very accommodating, even though my Star Alliance card had expired but my boarding pass stated I was elite gold. They had a nice selection of Italian beers and wines, scotch, vodka etc, but no gin & tonics!! I settled down in a large comfy club chair with a Barola and the Herald Tribune to forget the disastrous lunch.
My flight was scheduled for 5:30pm and was showing on-time but no gate. As I went to get a last glass of vino at approx 4:40pm I glanced at the board and my flight was showing “Delayed” till 8pm, oh no, I had jinxed myself “nothing can go wrong now”.
I grabbed another Barola and wandered back to my seat only to notice that the flight was now flashing and I did not understand the Italian, but it was not a good sign. I ran around to the desk and the gentleman there greeted me with “ah Mr. Barcelona, your flight has been cancelled due to the French air traffic controllers strike, no flights can enter French air territory”. I had got out of New York in a snow storm, but was grounded by the French. He told me to go to the sales counter on the first floor for a hotel voucher, when I got there it was pandemonium, all Italians screaming with their hands, I just hung back and waited till the end. As each group got their hotel and transportation voucher they rushed down to the ground floor, when I finally got mine and wandered down, they were all still standing there waiting for the bus. It pulled up a few minutes later, I got on first, grabbed the front seat and checked-in first.
Dinner and a glass of wine were also provided by the airline and it was much better than my expensive lunch, simple fried fish with pasta and bread, perfect.
The bus returned to pick us up at 5am for a 7am flight; hopefully we could be up and over the border before the French controllers decided to strike again. We touched down in Barcelona by 8:20am and I was in my hotel, off The Ramblas, by 9:15am.
After an hours rest I was off to find Mercat de la Boqueria, which is just the other side of The Ramblas from my hotel. I walked into the market and my eyes were assaulted by a galaxy of colours that blew the rainbow away. All the fruit stalls at the front by the entrance had fruits the colour and shape of which I had never seen, lined along each stand were juice cups buried in ice for 2 euro’s a piece, I was tempted but pushed further into the jungle of stalls, there were dozens of butchers, fishmongers, bakers, florists and even more fruit and veg., they all looked so good, how does one decide which to shop at? I’m sure over time you build allegiances, but where to start. Doted in amongst the stalls were little cafe counters, each seeming to have their own specialty, but I had already decided on a fish one near the entrance. Not surprisingly the fruit drinks in the middle of the market were only 1 euro.
I circled in and out through every little passageway in the market, finally arriving back at the fish cafe I had eyed on the way in, The Universal Kiosk, good job they are not depending on the name to draw customers in!!
First time around the open counter had been crowded but now it was just after 11am and it was pretty deserted, that time at the end of breakfast and not quiet lunch. But the chalkboard said, breakfast was served till noon, so I sat down and ordered eggs and sausage. He showed me 3 varieties of sausage, I chose the foot long that resembled an English Cumberland, it was fantastic, an earthy pork with herbs and the eggs yolks were a magnificent shade of orange as bright as the sun, some crusty bread and a glass of Cava, I was in heaven.
I floated out of the market on cloud nine, knowing exactly where I was having lunch, while having breakfast another counter hand was chopping up a fresh squid, yum.
I wandered down the Ramblas towards the port, passing all the mimics. I had seen them putting on their paint earlier while I was going to my hotel and wondered what it was all about. They get garbed and painted like, The Statue of Liberty, Charley Chaplin, Marilyn Monroe, Batman etcetera, and tourists pose for pictures with them! Why would anyone want their picture taken with any of those characters in Barcelona? Very strange, but obviously these people are making a living at, to each their own.
In the middle of the traffic circle at the port entrance is a tall column with a statue of Christopher Columbus pointing west, ah yes, “go west young man”.
This is not the commercial port, that is farther to the south, this is the pleasure port, looking out to sea, on your left is the private yacht harbour, with some very impressive boats, to your right is the cruise port and Balearic island ferry terminal, but straight ahead, almost appearing to sit right in the harbour is a huge tower that is part of the trans harbour cable car, a very, very impressive looking feat of engineering, I could just imagine the lines at either end. Not something I would have time for in my tight schedule.
The whole area was much to crowded for my liking so I turned back and headed up a small desolate side street and quickly realized I was in the vicinity of an Irish bar that my cousin, Bernadine’s friend, Clodagh, had recommended, it belonged to a friend of hers. I had researched it before I left home, but my notes were in the hotel, a great place, they wont get lost, but I remembered it was in a small alley, in front of the church of Santa Maria, in front of which I was now standing. There were only two alleys, and I looked in both, but no Bar Luna, oh well, maybe it was too early.
I turned north, and headed towards where there was supposed to be another market by the cathedral, I found it, no problem, but it was just a few stalls, very disappointing.
All this walking had given me a new appetite and I had a football game to go to, at 4pm, (Barcelona vs Malaga) or so I thought. I was about to make one of my biggest travelling mistakes ever. The game was originally scheduled for Sunday night, but they reserve the right to change it to Saturday, so two weeks previous when the game got changed to Saturday, I thought it was going to be at 4pm, which is the time I watch Barca in New York, on Saturday’s, I totally spaced on the time difference.
On my way back to my hotel, through the labyrinth of small streets, I spotted a sign with an arrow to “The Official FC Barcelona Shop”. Now let me tell you, every second store in Barcelona sells FC Barcelona merchandise, they all have pre-printed shirts, Messi, Xavi etc, but I needed a personalized one, low and behold, here is exactly what I need. I rushed in and asked, “do you print personalized shirts”, “yes of course, what name would you like, please, write it down, so we do not get it wrong”. So I write “EL TEL #7” the salesman looks at it, shows it to his associate, they look at me and say, que?
I explained, Terry Venables was one of my boyhood hero’s who played for Tottenham Hotspurs, in England, he then came to manage Barca in 1984 and got the nick-name El Tel, he won the Spanish league, the League Cup and got them to the European Cup Final, which they lost to Steaua Bucharest, they were very impressed, so was I when they came out with the shirt ten minutes later, magic.
With my new treasure in hand I rushed back to the hotel to get changed and head out for lunch and the game. Walking down the street with my new Barca shirt on was fantastic, I was no longer a tourist, I was a local.
Entering the market I found my new favourite food stand mobbed with people, apart from the counter, they had now set up high tables and stools and there was a ring of people standing around waiting for empties. I paced up and down, but there did not seem to be an opening with a stool. There was one small gap in the throng and my breakfast server saw me looking, he put down a place setting and I knew I was in. I glanced around and there was a spare stool beside a pillar, I grabbed it and moved towards my spot at the counter, saying, excusee, excusee, sounding more Italian than Spanish and certainty not Catilan. But it worked a treat, the two men I was squeezing between, each moved just a smudge to say, come on in, WOW.
I ordered the grilled calamari and a glass of rose, the two couples on my left were sharing razor clams, calamari, sardines and a bottle of cava. The couple to my right were just finishing off a plate of razor clams and getting stuck into a seafood paella, this was seafood heaven and I had a bloody football game to go to, but then again not just any game, it was after all Barca at the Camp Nou.
The calamari was absolutely delicious with some crusty bread and another glass of rose, the senor on my left recommended the razor clams, they did look fantastic, but I made my apologies and ran.
The metro station, Liceu, was right outside the market and it was 8 stops to Les Corts, I was going a little early (very) to have a look around the stadium but as we got within 3 stops, I realized there should be at least a few more people on the train, as I exited the station I saw the souvenir stands were only starting to get set up and the penny dropped, the game is at 10pm. Well maybe this meant to be, because at 10pm it will be dark and I will not get to see very much around the outside so I better take a peek now. The stadium was not visible from the metro station so I had to ask, “straight down, 500 meters”, I thought wow, a 95,000 seat stadium and I cannot see it from 500 meters. Sure enough I walked down the road and there it was, not much more than a six or seven story building and the gate I had to enter was right in front of me, sweet. There had been a purpose to this after all, but I was still disgusted at myself for making such a stupid mistake and having to leave the Universal Kiosk.
There was a bus stop across from the stadia with a bus sitting there going back into the town center, so I hopped on it to see what I had missed on the subway, metro tickets are good for a transfer on any other form of city transit for 1 ½ hours. I got back to The Ramblas around 5:30 and was starting to get a bit of an appetite again, but just as I had dreaded the market was closing up. There was a tapas place at the alley side entrance to the market, on The Ramblas, Sukaldari , that looked pretty good, so in I went, and in my best Spanish, “hola senor, una cervesa, por favor”? The bartender asked, would you like a pint or a half, in perfect English, wow. I sat there contemplating all the various tapas laid out in bowls and platters behind the glass bar partition, so much better than just looking at a menu. Roberto (bartender) saw my wonderment and started explaining what each one was as he dished them up for other customers, I felt right at home. As I neared the bottom of my cervesa, I ordered 2 varieties of jamon, 1 cod balls and 1 baby octupus along with a glass of red vino, which Roberto, informed me is called vino tinto. The tinatino was delicious so I ordered a bottle, all the tapas were also delicious, 1 jamon was air dried the other smoked, the cod balls were fluffy and moist and the baby squid were in a sweet tomato sauce, I was back in heaven, in fact Barcelona is HEAVEN.
The place was getting pretty crowded by now and then 2 Belgium guys came in and sat next to me, they also tried to order in broken Spanish, but Roberto just started speaking to them in French, quiet amazing, and at this point I had not found out that Roberto was actually Italian. He spoke fluent Italian, obviously, Spanish, Catalan, French and English. The Belgium’s and I started talking about his great command of languages and that maybe he should be working at the United Nation’s, I said no, he was doing far more important work here.
They then inquired about the name on the back of my Barca shirt, I explained the whole story and my erroneous trip to the stadia, we had a good laugh. They had flown in for the game that afternoon and were flying home early Monday morning, great, we could travel to the game together, they had no idea how to get to the Camp Nou, luckily I did!!
Just then 2 Japanese women came in and we remarked to Roberto, how is your Japanese, he just laughed. Well there were no 2 stools together, but I had one empty either side, so I moved down one to the Belgium’s and ushered the 2 girls in, the younger one, thanked me profusely, but there was something not quiet right with her accent. I inquired where in Japan she was from, Osaka, she was amazed when I told her I had been there three times, she was skeptical about believing me until I mentioned the giant crab restaurant just off saishinabashi, over looking the river. She then returned the inquiry and I explained, I was from London, but now live in New York, she gasped, wow, now I live in your country? Que ?, she explained she was studying at Newcastle University, loved Newcastle Brown Ale and Newcastle United football team, ahso! that was where the lilt in the accent came from.
She introduced herself as Miri and that the slightly older woman was her mother, who did not speak any English. She had come to visit Miri in Newcastle and they were doing a quick Spanish tour before she went home for half term. I went to introduce the Belgium lads but had not gotten around to getting their names; they introduced themselves as Hamza and Redoine, they were of Moroccan decent.
It was then Miri’s turn to inquire about my Barca shirt, (the shirt is worth it’s weight in gold for starting conversations) and I explained again and that we were all going to the game, her eyes lit-up, she wanted to go, and asked if we had any extra tickets? But the wise Japanese mother had caught the drift of the conversation; there was an emphatic, Japanese NO. Miri was crushed. As we all exchanged e mail addresses before heading out, I foolishly promised, I would meet Miri and her mum for breakfast, at 10am.
When we got on the metro it was more like matchday, the train was pretty crowded and everyone was wearing red and blue. When we got off at Les Corts, the whole area was packed with fans, it took 15 minutes to walk the 500 meters to the ground where I bid farewell to Hamza and Redoine, we would meet back at Sukaldari after the match.
They had to walk halfway around the stadium but I just walked straight in.
The atmosphere was amazing, I got to my seat five minutes before kick-off, just as the team was starting and then the teams ran out, it was like I was 13 again and at my first Tottenham game, a chill ran down my spine.
It was 0-0 at half time and the crowd were a little antsy, Malaga were a small team near the bottom of the league and the crowd had expected a goalfest. Quiet the contrary, Malaga were playing a very high line in defense, stifling the creativity of the Barca midfield, the whole first half was played in a 20 yard section of the midfield.
In the second half Barca started brightly, but it was the visitors who threatened first.
This seemed to awaken Barca and they had 2 cleared off the line before Pedro, who had been invisible till now, cracked one into the back of the net from the edge of the box in the 68th minute. Malaga pulled one back with ten minutes to go, setting up a nervy finish but then a Xavi to Aleves to Messi goal sealed the game with six minutes to go. There was a huge sigh of relief from 80,000 plus people and they all started to head for the gates. Had it been Tottenham with that close a game and only six to play, nobody would have moved, but this was Barca, they do not throw games away.
When I got outside, it was pandemonium, amazingly they do not shut the road too through traffic, I got to the metro and of course there was a huge line, I stood off to the side then noticed a bar across the green. It was pretty crowded but I burrowed my way into the bar and ordered a cuba libre (rum n’ coke), after a few minutes there was a lull in the line so nipped in and got on the next train, I was back in The Ramblas by 12:30am. Roberto welcomed me with a beer and I was feeling quiet peckish. This time I was seated around the side of the bar and noticed a dish I had not seen earlier, it looked like a cross between roasted chicken and lamb, I asked Roberto, rabbit! I had seen it in the market and my friend Franco, in New York, had told me it to look out for it, so I told him to dish some up, it was fantastic, I had seconds.
The Belgium lads finally showed up around 1am and were amazed to see me polishing off my rabbit and a glass of vino tinto, they had walked with a bunch of fans to the stop before the stadium and yet here I was. They were also hungry so I stuck around while they ordered some tapas and we rehashed the game. Finally it was 2am and Roberto was closing up, time to hit the sheets, I had been on the go since 4am in Milan.
The alarm went off at 9am, but there was no way these old bones were going to get out of bed, even if it was to meet a beautiful Japanese girl and her equally beautiful mother for breakfast on my fifty fifth birthday. I rolled over and awoke again just before eleven feeling much better.
On the off chance that they might be running late (fat chance, the Japanese are more punctual than the Germans) I quickly showered and headed over to the Sukaldari cafe, but there was no sign of them. I ordered orange juice, cafe con letche, eggs jamon and potatoes, while the waiter was gone, I had a brainstorm. When he returned I showed him the girls photo in my camera, and he beamed, si si, this morning.
After breakfast, which was delicious, same bright orange eggs and smoky jamon, it was time for plan B. Buy an all day metro pass and first stop, Segrada Familia cathedral, which until not long ago, I had not known was unfinished. You never see any cranes in photos off it, but now in person, it is surrounded by tower cranes. I had always thought it was a true Gothic cathedral and all the carvings on the exterior to be very old, but now I am totally aghast, it has all been created with modern tools.
Next, I headed for the Olympic compound in Parc de Montjuic, it was metro stop Paral-Lel and then a funicular, again I had not realized it was on top of a hill, obviously I knew very little about Barcelona.
Exiting the funicular station there was a wonderful panoramic view of all Barcelona laid out before you. I counted signs to seven different museums, but I did not know what they showcased. The hillside is crisscrossed with pathways meandering through meticulously manicured gardens that exude an intoxicating perfume bouquet, all while overlooking the glass paneled dome of The Palais Nacional de Montjuic, a majestic baroque building.
I wandered along and eventually came upon the Olympic stadium where the 1992 games were held. The stadium was originally built for the 1936 games, but due to the Spanish civil war, were cancelled and awarded to Germany. Barcelona’s second football team, Espanyol, played their home games here until 2009 but then moved to a new modern, purpose built football stadia. Today the stadium is used basically only for concerts, but this summer it will host the European Athletics Championships, a big coup for the city.
There are several smaller stadiums scattered around the main one, that held various events back in 1994, but unfortunately they lie dormant today. The whole complex is a great example of why small cities, without great planning, should not bid for the instant gratification that hosting the Olympics brings.
I rode the funicular back down and the metro around to Drassanes exiting in the shadow of Christopher Columbus, being a beautiful sunny day the port area was jammed with tourists and locals alike, after a quick saunter around, I headed down the small street that led to Santa Maria church, maybe I would La Luna this time, but no such luck. I carried on past the church and from an alley to my left I heard the unmistakable roar of a football crowd, I had to investigate, there was a small bar full of young locals watching Italian Seria A football, Roma vs Napoli. I could use a cold beer after all my walking so in I went, a ½ liter of Stella was only 2 euro, great. The first one went down very easy so I ordered another, then a staff member emerged from the kitchen with a couple of pans of a crusty baked rice dish, which he started to dish out on paper plates. I was intently watching the screen when I got a tap on the shoulder and offered a plate by the bartender, I thanked him profusely, it was very basic, rice with green and red peppers, but very tasty with a beer. I really felt like a local and could have stayed for the whole game, but I bowed out at half time. Walking back to the seafront, I had a very warm glow about the experience, happy birthday Frank.
I was now at the other end of the harbour, where all the private yachts were docked and there were some beauties. One in particular stood out, she was approx 100 foot long, single masted, wooden ocean racer and to top it off she was registered in Tortola, British Virgin Islands, where I used to race such boats. The memories came flooding back and to reinforce them, the yacht moored next to it was called “Southern Cross”. I have never forgotten the first time, I saw the southern cross, while on a night voyage from Fajardo, Puerto Rico to Nanny Cey, Tortola, after the Puerto Rico Rolex regatta. The Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young song still reverberates around my brain. I stood there at the dock, mesmerized.
After ten minutes I snapped out of it and wandered back up to the main road, my feet were really starting to ache by now, so I hopped on a bus back up to The Ramblas, getting off in front of my hotel. I could use another beer. All the bars around my hotel were packed with people watching Manchester United vs Aston Villa in the League Cup Final (where my mates were), there was no way I was going into “Cheers” or “Wally’s Australian Pub” so I settled upon the “International Beer Bar”. I would have denied it, but I secretly wanted to see the end of the game, in the hope that Villa would win.
The bar was pretty packed and everyone, except two yanks, sitting under the TV, was watching the game. Now of course the yanks were not just sitting quietly, one was telling the other, and everyone in the bar, his various methods of Bar B Qing, the poor fellow doing the listening, actually looked a little embarrassed, and tried on a couple of occasions to steer the conversation to the game on theTV, but the chap bragging about his BBQ would have none of it, “ah it’s only Manchester United, everybody watches them”. Finally they got up to leave any everyone gave them a round of applause, the BBQ guy actually thought it was a compliment, what world does he live in?
When I got in, there was about 30 mins to play and the game was tied 1-1, wohoo, Villa are in with a chance. They had no Stella and I did not fancy a Spanish draft Guinness so I ordered a sangria, 5 euro for small glass, a long way from 2 euro for a Stella just 10 mins walk away!! With 15 minutes to go MU got a cheap penalty which Rooney converted and that was that, game over.
On my travels all day, I had not seen a bar with such an array of tapas as Sukaldari, so why take a chance when it is only across the road and I’m hungry. Off course Roberto was not there, it was too early, I ordered a glass of Cava while I perused the choices, of course I was going to have rabbit, but what to have with it? Then I spotted a large bowl of anchovies with peppers and olives, sold, with the rabbit, spinach flan and ½ bottle of vina tinto, a perfect late afternoon snack. I then retired to my room for a siesta.
Barcelona is famed for people going out late to eat dinner, but with a 10:30am flight, I would have to check-in by 8ish which meant leaving the hotel by 7:15am, so no late night for me. I decided I should make an effort to go up by Catalunya Square and find a nice sit down restaurant for my final/birthday meal, but as I walked by Sukaldari, just in case Hamza and Redoine were there, Roberto waved me in, what could I do, he had taken such good care of me and the place was virtually empty.
I started with a couple of glasses of Cava, then asked him about his sangria, he was proud of his recipe, so I said I would try it, I did not like it, so he suggested a cava sangria, perfect.
Then in walked Hamza and Redoine, it was like a class reunion. I started by apologizing for not making breakfast with the Japanese, but they confessed, they had also missed them. I explained that I knew the girls had been in, so what time were they in at? They had come in about 10:30 and left at 11:15, wow I had just missed them at 11:20am, what a strange string of events. The boys had been on the Camp Nou stadium tour for the afternoon and were raving about how good it was, after my two trips there on Saturday, the tour could wait for my next visit, which I hope will be soon.
We ordered a bunch of tapas, rabbit included, of course, and spent the next few hours spinning stories (me mostly) and them trying to ask me questions about American politics, of which I have little interest.
Roberto was starting to close up before midnight (so much for late dining) and it was time to bid adieu, we promised to e mail each other but they never did, I tried them but the e mail just bounced back.
Six am came quickly and I was up showered and ready to go by seven, instead of taking the metro which would have been quick and painless, I decided to walk up to Catalunya Square, get the bus and have a last look at Barcelona.
I will be back.

Alaska 2007

2010-03-15T14:07:00.001-07:00

I had wanted to visit Alaska for years; with the rising Euro and British pound, the ever increasing airfares during the summer to Europe I decided in March 2007 that this was the year. I cashed in sixty thousand Delta airmiles for a first class round trip ticket. This also made brilliant sense as an economy ticket to London is 60,000 mile and first class 90,000 during the summer for a seven hour flight. Anchorage was a 9 hour flight for the price of economy to London.
As my flight descended down through the clouds towards Anchorage, I got my first glimpse of the majestic snow topped peaks of the slate grey Alaska Mountains, that surround the city on three sides and the deep aquatic blue of Cook Inlet. A tingle went through me, anticipating the expedition into a world that is both familiar yet strangely unknown.
After a 10 ½ hour trip from New York via Cincinnati, I arrived at Ted Stevens’s airport at 8pm local time (midnight in NYC). I had reservations on the 6:45am train to Seward and had booked a room at the Econo Inn close to the train depot. While waiting for the motel shuttle, I had an interesting chat with a TSA agent, who was posted up there for the summer from California, being from Piso Beach, with no major airport nearby, he frequently gets posted to busy areas. Last Christmas/New Year’s he was posted to Washington’s Reagan airport. He does not agree with all the TSA procedures, but has to follow command! What other job in Piso Beach would give him these travel opportunities.
By the time I got to my room at 9pm my body clock was saying 1am but the sun was still shining so I went in search of a drink and a bite to eat. There was not much around in the immediate area, but I did find La Cabana Mexican restaurant, which served a good margarita and tasty seafood tacos.
I got to bed around 11pm and boy did that 5am alarm go off quick, the Alaska railroad require you to check-in 1 hour prior to departure just like the airlines, fortunately they had good coffee.
When we finally got to board, I was located in the last reserved car which was one of their older rolling stock and had big comfortable reclining seats. Each car has an assigned tour guide, in my case it was the lovely Jennifer and it just so happened her Dad was in the seat directly behind me. Jen was a high school senior and eager to show off her knowledge of her home state. Like did you know, that no houses in the state have basements due to the permafrost and that the Turnagain Arm of Cook Inlet (which we passed) has the second largest tidal change in the world, forty feet between high and low. The largest change is the Bay of Fundy in Canada with a sixty foot differential. Turnagain Arm got its name when Captain Cook sailed up it and found a cul de sac, hence turnagain!Dad just kept asking more and more questions; bring out the best in her.

Although the journey is only 128 miles the train takes 4 ½ hours, slowing down for all animal sightings and the three glaciers it passes. There are two domed cars for 360 degree viewing, in addition to the oversized windows at your large reclining seat. The scenery outside the window is mesmerizing, the snow capped mountains slope down through emerald green forests to the crystal clear aqua blue lakes that mirror the mountains and sky. The houses dotted along the lake shores don’t have cars parked in the driveways, but seaplanes moored at the dock. A higher percentage of people commute by plane than car in Alaska. If you are really lucky, you will see some Dahl sheep, a moose or an elk, it is extremely unlikely to see a bear from the train, but it has been known.
When you finally pull into Seward at the head of Resurrection Bay, it is almost the epitome of a picturesque fishing village, until you look off to your left and see the huge ugly conveyor belt pier that stretches out into the bay, this is for loading coal, that is brought by train down from the interior for shipment to Korea and Peru.
The train depot is right beside Seward small boat harbour and I had booked a room at the Breeze Inn Motel across the street. My room was not ready so after dropping my bag off I went for an exploratory walk around town, but that only took 40 mins. it’s a small town ! Never the less it was enough to sharpen up my appetite for lunch, I had only had coffee and a power bar on the train. Most of the towns restaurants seemed to be of the same coffee shop/dinner type, all advertising fish n chips except for 2 right on the waterfront, Chinooks & Roy’s. I decided on Chinooks for some reason and was glad I did, the lovely proprietor, Sandy was tending bar and we struck up a great conversation, she is originally from nearby Connecticut. I sampled a few of the local Alaskan ales and soaked them up with a delicious grilled salmon with rice & veg. A most satisfying lunch.
Now the effects of the late night early start and jet lag were starting to have an effect so I went to see if my room was ready but alas the Breeze Inn are very firm about their 3pm check-in time and I was once more cast out to fend for myself for at least another hour. In no mood to do any more exploring I headed straight across the parking lot to the Breeze Inn’s bar/restaurant to kill the hour over a beer.
Initially there were just a few guys, all of whom were smoking, so I stayed down the emptier end of the bar on my own, but then several of the restaurant waitresses came in to cash up their tips and have an after work drink, well they perked me right up and one of them was from Dublin, naturally! We had a great time and before you knew it, it was 5pm, they had to go home and I needed a nap, surely my room would be ready by now?
After a short nap I got up and wandered over to Ray’s which was packed but I managed to find a stool at the bar and ordered up a Tanquary martini while I perused the menu. Well it had been a most satisfying first day in Alaska to I decided to treat myself to a pound of King Crab Legs and a bottle of Cloudy Bay, awesome. Half way through dinner 3 guys joined me at the bar, they had just come in off a charter and one poor sod had not done so good, his mates were enjoying razzing him and I chimed in.
I finally shuffled out of Rays at 11pm but it only felt like 7 in New York as it was still quite bright, I felt like having a nightcap at the Breeze bar but it had been a very long day and I had a glacier boat tour booked for 9am so bedways was bestway.
When I opened my eyes in the morning I could not believe it, I had slept through 2 alarms and it was 9:30, my ship had sailed, shit! I got up and looked out through the curtains and the whole fjord/harbour was locked in by low clouds and fog, I had lucked out, it was a crappy day to out on the water. I called the office across the street and explained my predicament; a very nice lady asked if I was traveling solo? And when I said yes she said I was better off missing the boat I was booked on, it held almost 200 passengers. She recommended I book the Captain’s choice tour for tomorrow which is on a much smaller vessel and so far there were only 16 bookings, thank you, yes there is a god, back to bed for an hour!
When I finally emerged into the day it was a very damp fog that reminded me of the old famous pea soupers in the London of my youth. It was a good day for indoor activities, so I headed for the Alaska Sea Life Center, a mile down the road in downtown Seward. It was built with a donation from Exxon after the Exxon Valdes disaster decimated all the local sea life.
The sea life center is well worth a visit regardless of the weather, lots of very interesting exhibits of the local aquatic life and plenty of live mammals and birds which have been rescued due to various accidents.
I walked back to the small boat harbour and decided to have lunch at Chinooks again with Sandy, but unfortunately she was not working. I had their seafood chowder (better than Roy’s) and the crab cakes, very good.
After lunch I caught a shuttle out to Exit Glacier, what a difference a valley makes. In Seward it had been very overcast and misty; here it was 70 degrees, clear blue skies and sunny. It was a nice easy 1 mile hike to the glacier and although small in glacier terms it is very impressive, especially as you can get to within about 10 feet and feel the cold emanating off it.
Upon my return to Seward I had a quick nap then went for dinner again at Roy’s and met a very interesting man while dining at the bar, Steve, he worked for the coal mine in Healy which shipped the coal down via Alaska RR to Seward
I had originally planned to take the train up to Denali and the bus back but the bus was booked and the return train would not connect with my flight, so I had been forced to rent a car, but now Steve said I had made the right choice. The first 4 hours of the train journey were very boring and I would cover the distance in half the time with a car, but also that the train was packed with cruise passengers. Also being on the train I would not see Talkeetna, a beautiful little Alaskan town well worth a stop for lunch. We were then joined at the bar by a woman from Ketchikan which is down the southeast peninsula, she and Steve started swapping stories, how hard it is sometimes living up there in the dark, she had moved up from the lower forty eight but Steve was a third generation Alaskan, I was very privileged.
I had mentioned to Steve about my planned boat trip the next morning to see wildlife and a calving (falling ice) glacier and he told me on my next trip I should plan going to a tiny town called Cordova on Prince William Sound that is only reachable by ferry or plane where you can sit on the beach and watch the glacier calve all day, sounds perfect.
It was getting late so I bid my new Alaskan friends good night as I did not want to miss the boat, again.
The next morning dawned foggy as the day before but I had seen how quickly it changes from fjord to fjord. There were still only 16 bookings for our boat so things looked good. I saw the line of people queuing for the 8am boat which was the same size as the one I missed and was I ever glad of oversleeping. It would have been hell.
I felt positively naked when we boarded, I was dressed in jeans, long sleeve shirt and a windbreaker, everyone else must have had about 2 or 3 layers of artic gear with rain gear on top!!
As we motored out of the small boat harbour we spotted our first bald eagle sitting on the coal conveyor to our left and as we came about there was another sitting on the channel marker to our right, beautiful, noble and strong creatures with no fear of the passing boat.
We moved down the fiord and the backdrop of the low lying clouds on the surrounding mountains with bright sunshine glinting off glaciers in the high valleys was very dramatic, it looked like a vision of Valhalla.
As we got out of the fiord past Fox Island and into Resurrection Bay, Ellen the first mate served up a breakfast of yogurt, fresh fruit and canola with coffee and told everyone to search the calm waters for signs of wildlife. It seemed to take for ever; I think we all thought they would be just there waiting in the bay for our enjoyment. But after an hour we finally spotted a humpback whale gracefully swimming along, it was beautiful to watch.
Further out into the bay we came upon the Chiswell Islands where we saw dozens of sea lions and literally millions of sea birds, the noise was incredible and what I found even more incredible was that some of them can dive to 400 feet underwater to fish, even the cuddly cute puffin can dive to 350 feet. During the winter when these waters virtually freeze over the birds will fly 4 to 500 miles south in the Pacific and winter there, not touching land for over 6 months.
We then motored up Aialik Bay to Aialik Glacier, it was very eerie, with a low lying fog and it was getting colder by the minute. Now I started to understand why all these people had were wearing so many layers of clothing but then I looked at Captain Joe and mate Ellen and they were not overly bundled so what the hell, how bad could it get!
After about half an hour of cautious sailing the fog lifted and we were confronted with a 400 foot wall of ice, it was just an incredible sight and felt like standing in front of an open freezer door, WOW and the noise was also incredible, it creaked and groaned as large chunks fell away into the freezing artic waters. We were bobbing in a sea of large ice chunks just a ¼ mile from the glacier face. Local law prohibited us from going any nearer and Joe could not cut the engine to get the full noise effect, due to the fact that we might need full power any second should a large enough piece calve to cause a wave which could swamp our small boat. I doubt if I, in my light clothing, would have lasted more than 40 seconds in that water but I would have loved to have experienced the glacier in total silence.
The glaciers are constantly moving, being pushed forward by pressure from above and move an average of 4 miles per day. We scooped up ice as it floated past the boat, it was so clear and pure looking, I could only think of making a martini or a gin n tonic.
Motoring back down the bay I noticed some kayakers beached on the shore. I asked Joe how they got here and he told me there are outfitters who will drop you off and then return to pick you up, weather permitting!! Now that would be the way to visit a glacier, maybe next time!
Exiting Aialik Bay we came upon a killer whale with her calf just frolicking in the open water, we heaved too to observe them and then another passenger spotted 3 more a couple of hundred yards off the port side. Joe was trying to decide whether we should move when they changed course and came to join the mother and calf by us. It was a male and 2 females and all 5 swam around us for a few minutes before the male took off and the rest of the pod followed what an exhilarating experience.
Heading back to Seaward all of the passengers seemed content to huddle in the main cabin sipping tea and soup as if the return leg offered nothing. I on the other hand grabbed a beer and sat up beside Joe in the wheel house. Joe and his ancestors have lived here all their lives making a living from the sea. He told me all about the great quake of March 27th 1964 which wiped out the town of Seaward, Joe happened to be in Kodiak that day, which also got hit but not as bad.
It took years of hard work, living through harsh winters in make shift shelters to rebuild the town and the fishing industry so when the tourist industry started to take off in the nineties Joe literally jumped ship and traded his fishing net for a tour microphone.
Back on the dock at 5pm I had ninety minutes till my bus to Anchorage, so I decided to have a bite to eat at Chinooks and was rewarded with the lovely Sandy being behind the bar. I told her all about my great day on the boat with Joe and Ellen and of course she knew them, they usually come in most evenings after work about 7ish when the boat was all ship shape, alas I would be gone.
Naturally I ordered the chowder and followed it up with their Halibut cheeks cerviche which was out of this world. I’ve had Grouper cheeks cerviche in Florida (I made it myself) but it was nothing on this. This was a taste explosion in my mouth; forget about lobster, this is seafood at its finest. Halibut cheeks are reason enough for a return trip, they never leave the dock! There just happened to be a couple of ‘tourist fishermen sitting down the bar and they agreed, it was the tastiest part of the fish and luckily for all the locals when tourists catch Halibut they only ask for the filets, leaving all the good stuff for them and me.
Traveling on ones own has its benefits, firstly you don’t have to conform to other people’s requirements and most importantly you usually get to ride up front on boats, shuttles and of course buses. This bus was no different, I grabbed the front seat and we had a good chat. He was retired from New Jersey to Florida and had to take care of his mother down there but for five months a year he came to Alaska to supplement
his income by driving a bus for the park shuttle service. I had seen a lot of buses zooming around with cruise line names on them and asked if he had ever tried drove them, he had made inquires at the start of this season but they require that you drive 13 out of 14 days, i.e. 1 day off every two weeks, sod that he said, “they pay more but I did not come here to kill myself”.
After 2 local stops we mutually ended the conversation as he hit the highway and put the hammer down, he was cruising at 80 mph and you have to keep your eyes on the road as an animal can wander out at any moment. He had had a few close calls, but none on this day.
We got into Anchorage around 9pm which was really good going and the bus stop was just a few blocks from the Econo Inn so I was checked in by 9:30pm. Although it had been a long grueling day and I was pretty knackered with it being full daylight I had no inclination to sleep so I headed for my new favorite Mexican joint La Cabana for a couple of Margarita’s and some fish tacos, I would be able to sleep-in in the morning as I had reserved a rental car at the airport for noon.
Although I had wanted to sleep late I found myself wide awake at 8am with the bright sunshine outside. Well I had not seen much of Anchorage so now was as good a time as any, check out was not until eleven so I had a couple of hours, figured I’d wander downtown and grab some breakfast preferably consisting of salmon or halibut but no such luck, every joint I went into had an all you can eat breakfast buffet, yuck! So I settled for a Starbucks latte and their egg Mc muffin sandwich, the last thing I wanted, well almost last thing, Micky D’s or Burger King would have been worse but I had been walking for almost an hour.
There is nothing to downtown Anchorage, its all souvenir shops so I headed back to the motel, grabbed my bag and took the shuttle to the airport.
Heading northeast out of Anchorage on route 1 there is some decent scenery but when you turn north onto route 3 through Wasilla the terrain get very flat green and boring just as Steve had said, there was very little traffic after Wasilla so I just floored the rental, next stop Talkeetna, which is 115 mile from Anchorage and I managed to make it in under 2 hours.
Talkeetna is a cute little town that still looks like it probably did back in the goldrush days but now it is caught up in the tourist rush. I walked around the whole town in ten minutes and figured the only place I would set foot in was the joint I had parked in front off, The West Pub & Grill; surely I would find some fish here for lunch. It looked a bit ominous when I walked in as most people in the small garden appeared to be eating burgers but a peruse of the menu offered a salmon filet with homemade slaw, sold with a pint of Alaska Amber Ale.
Naturally I got talking to the bartender, Simon and asked the obvious question, do you live here year round? No he only came up here five months of the year, tending bar 2 days a week and teaching kayaking the rest of the time. What he makes in the 5 months supports him in Costa Rica surfing for the winter, very cool. My advice to him was to keep living that life as long as possible, you never know what is around the corner.
I got back on the road by 4pm, I wanted to be in Denali by 7 and it was 155 miles north through what promised to be spectacular scenery. After about an hour I came upon the south Denali lookout point and got my first glimpse of the great mountain, even at over 120 miles away it was spectacular.
When I got to Denali just before 7pm it was just as Steve had described in Seward, “glitter gulch”. I came across a small rise and there laid out before me was a small valley chock full of condos, restaurants, fast food joints and souvenir shops, yuck, but a necessary by-product of Denali’s success.
All the condo/hotels in the area were priced at $175 and up per night, a little out of my range and not the kind of place I would like to stay anyway. Through some digging on the web I had found a cabin with shared bathroom facilities @ The Salmon Bake for $50 per night, much more my speed and now I was pulling up outside.
The Salmon Bake is the largest locally owner restaurant in the area and they were doing a thriving business, all 3 of their dining rooms were packed and there was a pungent smell of fish.
Reception was the cashier’s desk and upon production of my confirmation e mail I was handed the key to cabin 5 and a map to find it up in the woods, it wasn’t that far just a little complicated.
Up the hill I found 10 little canvas covered frame cabins connected by a wooden walkway surrounding a triple bathroom/shower house. Inside they were quite cozy, carpeted floor, small desk for writing postcards and 2 queen size beds with complimentary water bottles on each bed.
After getting my bearings and settling in I wandered back down to the main building and was amazed that the whole place had emptied out, I suppose it’s just like this on the boats, cruise/herd mentality.
Upstairs the bar was equally as quiet, I ordered an Alaskan Blond (beer), fish chowder and grill Halibut n chips, excellent, after another few beers I decided to have a wander around the neighborhood, you can’t really call it a town because I don’t think anyone actually lives there permanently
After about an hour I wandered back up the hill past the cabin site and found a small bar/restaurant called The Overlook, which was attached to the Crow’s Nest motel. They also had cabins but were made of logs and looked better decorated inside (I checked the web; they go for $199 per night). I stopped in for a quick nightcap and called it a day.
Next morning I was awake at 7am and decided to go for a long walk as I would be spending eleven hours on a bus for the rest of the day, I had booked the 9:30am trip to Wonder Lake which is 90 miles into the park and if Denali is out, there would be spectacular views. Private vehicles are not allowed past mile post 15 without a permit, there is a small parking lot there and it is a good spot to hike the Savage River.
At the bus depot I was third in line as I wanted one of the coveted left side window seats which has all the best views for the outbound leg, when the bus pulled up I got the perfect seat half way back with a full pane by my seat but unbeknownst to me the couple I had been talking to behind me in the line had a group of graduating high school seniors with them and they all piled into the back. There were about eight girls in the group and they did not shut up for a second, after half an hour if I had a gun I would have shot them. At one point the driver stopped the bus and asked them nicely to stop talking and one of them replied” we are college girls, we don’t stop talking”. No wonder we saw so few animals on the way out, we could be heard for miles.
The tension was broken when our bus pulled up beside another bus exiting the park and the two drivers leaned out to talk to each. After a few minutes our driver dug into his backpack and passed a jar of Grey Poupon to his fellow driver, he explained it had been a running joke between them all season and yesterday he had been in Anchorage and so picked up the mustard, very funny in the middle of nowhere, although not everyone got the joke, guess who!!
As we got into the park we got our first clear look at Denali from about 90 miles, it’s awesome to look at something that big and that far away. The mountain makes its own weather systems at that altitude and we did not see it again until we were about 40 away, now it really started to look overpowering. Our destination, Wonder Lake, is the closest the road gets to it at 24 miles but looking at now the signs were not good that it would be out when we got there.
Sure enough when we got to the lake, Denali was totally engulfed in cloud, there was not much to do except eat lunch and have a wander around. The terrain was very flat and treeless, just a lot of tall shrubbery. From the top of a small knoll I could see there were a lot of people camping in small pup tents dotted around the area, waiting for that elusive glimpse of the mountain.
The bus only stays for 40 minutes but with the mountain socked in and the mosquito’s being pretty bad there was no point staying the extra hour for the last bus of the day and beside the girls had finally quietened down. The return journey was pretty quiet but with every seat taken it was very cramped. When we stopped at Toklat River where the park service has a large tent set up to sell books and souvenirs the driver announced we would be here for another 40 minute break. The drivers had a small tent to the side for them to take a break. So when I saw one exiting as ours entered I asked when he was leaving and if he had space, he had and I had 5 minutes. A quick whiz, I grabbed my bag off the other bus and away we went.
This bus was virtually empty with only about eighteen people on a fifty seater, I was going to take the back seat but there was a family of six (Mum, Dad, 3 sons & 1 daughter, (boy, girl, boy, boy)) occupying the third and fourth rows from the back so it seemed a bit rude to sit behind them. After about twenty minutes the youngest son said he was tired so Mum told him to lie down in the back so I felt I had done the right thing. Two minutes later he is jumping up and down, hollering and waving 2 twenty dollar bills in his hands, he had found them on the floor, lucky bugger that would have bought a nice bottle of Cloudy Bay to erase the memories of the yakkedy yak school girls.
I don’t know if it was having fewer people on the bus not making noise or the time of day but we saw a lot more wildlife on the return trip, two separate brown bear sightings, a family of Foxes who’s den was just twenty yards from the road, two Moose that ran right in front of us and a Caribou, it was such a difference from the first bus.
Getting back to the bus terminal almost an hour ahead of schedule was a delight, I could have called the Salmon Bake Camp to send their shuttle but decided to hoof it. When I was out walking earlier that day I had seen a trail that lead to the park but did not know where it came out so I started walking around the parking lot looking for a trailhead when I came upon a young guy looking for the same thing. We agreed where we thought it should be and just as I was about to say lets hike together he took off into the woods like Bambi on speed, I tried to follow but within minutes I was totally discombobulated and lost, the immediate thought of running into a bear any moment suddenly became very real. I decided to backtrack and quickly realised I had no idea in which direction I was going, for someone who always prides themselves on knowing their north’s and south’s this was very disconcerting. All of a sudden I stumbled through some thick trees and found myself on the edge of a storm drain by the side of a road.
I was not sure which way was which but I had the feeling I was facing south so I turned to the left, as I wandered down the road a man appeared out of a side road about 500 yards ahead of me and just stood there, as I approached I figured I could at least ask him if I was headed in the right direction but as I drew close he shouted “are ya headed to town?, I replied “if towns this way, then that’s where I’m going”, it is he said, may I walk with you? sure!
After exchanging pleasantries and such (sorry I forgot his name) my new friend explained that he was going to town to buy a new tent as his had just been stolen, I was aghast. He had been hiking around Alaska for the past few months and just came upon this campsite at the entrance to Denali. He had booked a campsite for the night and someone stole his tent. I naturally thought that it had been erect but no, he had just gone to the bathroom, left his pack and tent roll outside but when he returned the tent was gone!! I explained this was not really a town in the normal sense but merely a collection of hotels, motels, RV parks and eateries with one gas station, I don’t think there is a hardware or grocery store so buying a tent would not be an option. He did not seem worried and started to ask about my trek into the park that day and how far I had got. I explained about the bus system and he asked if there was a trail as he wanted to walk to Wonder Lake. Walk!! It was ninety miles through bear country. He reckoned it would take him 5 to 6 days and I calculated I would be back at work in New York by then. I have no idea if he ever made it or if he even got a new tent but I thought of him often, especially when I saw a trailer for a new movie coming out “Into The Wild”.
The Salmon Bake was thankfully devoid of tourists when I got back so I retired to the bar for a well deserved martini followed of course by the fish chowder and their seafood quesadilla, excellent as usual, I’m really getting spoilt on all this fantastic fish.
After a stroll around I looked into the Overlook but it was a very loud cruise type of crowd so I decided to have an early night, write some postcards and get a quick start in the morning, it was after all my last day and I wanted to make the most of it.
While this trip was in the planning stages I had considered all the other “adventure” things to do while up here, white water rafting, I’d seen the river, it’s fast moving but not white water. Four wheel all terrain vehicles, just did not seem very ecco friendly so I just decided to drive into mile 15 of the park, leave the car and go hiking up the Savage River trail. Great move, there was nobody out there and the silence was deafening.
I drove back to the visitors centre for lunch and had excellent Halibut n chips which really surprised me as the concession is run by non other than Aramark, the global conglomerate that ruined my trip to the Chinese Grand Prix in Shanghai.
There are a number of short hiking trails from the visitors centre and I chose Horseshoe Lake which is about 2 hours round trip and I was rewarded by the sight of 2 Moose cooling off from the afternoon heat with a frolic in the lake.
As you exit the park there is one hotel, The Grande Denali Lodge, spectacularly positioned atop a mountain opposite and I thought I must have a cocktail there and get a panoramic photo but now I was going to drive up to Healy.
Healy is a small town of approx one thousand people just fourteen miles north of Denali but out of the Alaska Mountain Range, it sits on the open tundra and the main industry is the coal mine. I had been talking to the bartender last night at the Salmon Bake and he was born and bred in Healy. His dad worked for the coal company but he could not see himself going down that road. Last winter he had tended bar at The Totem Pole motel which was pretty dead so now with the money he was making he was going to Hawaii for the winter.
Needless to say there was not very much to see so I just turned around and headed back. I just made it over the Nenana river bridge when it was closed to all traffic due to the movement of a huge piece of machinery that was being moved north presumably to the coal mine. It was wrapped in white plastic, took up both lanes of the highway was about 20 foot high by 40 foot and sat in this immense trailer that was cradled between two bogies each with seven axles and eight wheels per axle all being pulled by a Peterbilt truck at approx 3 miles per hour. I stopped to watch it crawl over the bridge and noticed that the railroad ran above the other bank and cut into a tunnel under the bridge, the railroad was built to Fairbanks back in the 1920’s and they did not get around to building the road until 1974.
Well it around 5:30 by now and time for that pre dinner martini at The Grande Denali Lodge. There must have been at least eight switchbacks in the gravel road leading up the mountain but what a view from the top, of course Denali itself was not out, it must be fantastic when it is. The lodge itself was nothing to look but when you step in the door to the lobby, wow! It was a huge cavernous room of gleaming varnished wood , reception desk to the right, gift shop to the left and straight ahead a lovely seating area in front of a huge fireplace. Past the fireplace was the bar and dining room which sat out over the cliff and had floor to ceiling windows on 3 sides offering dramatic views, I ordered an in&out Tanqueray martini up with a twist and the barmaid apologetically tells me they have no vermouth, NOOOOOO, who ever heard of a bar with no vermouth, I was outraged, it took the shine off the whole place. I opted for a gin n tonic and she did not even have a slice of lemon, I had to settle for lime, now I’m pissed off, this place is a sham.
I downed the drink and headed for home to The Salmon Bake, it might not be pretty or have great views but it sure knows how to do food and drink. Later that night I got talking to the young girl who was the bar back that night and she said she used to work there as a waitress and hated every minute of it, this she said was the place work even though she made less money, she was happy.
Bellying up to the bar I got my perfect martini ordered the fish chowder, of course, followed by the Dungeness crab cakes, all washed down with a nice New Zealand sauvignon blanc, heavenly, my last supper in Alaska.
After dinner I got talking to a couple of girls and they were working as chambermaids across the road at the Denali Princess Lodge which they hated, they were filing applications at The Salmon Bake for next year.
Well that was it, time to hit the sack, I had to have the car back at Anchorage airport by noon so I would have to up by 6, on the road by 7 so I could be downtown Anchorage by 11 to eat before hitting the airport, I had noticed a place called the City Diner last week near the airport so I figured I’d try it.
What a great choice this turned out to be, there was a half hour wait for tables but I snagged a seat at the counter and ordered up some salmon hash with poached eggs. It was fantastic but I could not finish it, huge portions.
Well that was it, my last meal in Alaska, time to head for the airport, turn in the car and settle down in the Alaskan Airlines lounge as I had a 3 hour wait for my flight.
The lounge was virtually empty and what a nice surprise to find they had Alaskan Blond on draught, I got a pint and settled down to watch The Battle of Britain on my DVD. When I went back to get another pint there was a wonderful fish smell in the air and when I enquired from the bartender she informed me there was fresh fish chowder available in the kitchen, just help myself. Ah one last taste of Alaskan cooking.
I was originally scheduled to have a three hour lay-over in Seattle and had toyed with the idea of getting a cab downtown for a quick bite to eat at The Flying Fish but had to dismiss that idea when my flight out of Anchorage was delayed by 30 minutes.
Despite the delay I was very impressed by Alaska Airlines, the lounge, staff and facilities were superb but that was nothing compared to when I got on the plane. The flight crew were the most charming I have ever met and the service was impeccable. Good wines served in glasses, nice salmon and pasta served on china with real silverware, things that have gone missing on other major American airlines since September 2001.
Another nice touch in their first class is that they had out preloaded personal DVD players which contain about 20 movies, cartoons and a lot of nature shows about Alaska, as an alternative there was the spectacular scenery of the Alaskan and Canadian coastline, I must have counted at least eight cruise ships during the flight.
Landing at Sea Tac airport it turns out even if the flight had been on time I would not have had time to make it downtown, we pulled into the very last gate of the North terminal and when I checked the board my Delta flight was leaving out of the last gate on concourse A, the transfer would take 2 trains and a lot of walking about 40 minutes all told. As it was I was only going to get about 45 minutes in the Delta Crown Room but it was enough to have a couple of glasses of wine and watch a late Mariners rally which failed against the visiting Red Sox.
My flight was being called and it was time to end my latest odyssey next stop was JFK and back to reality.

Inaugural Asian Tour Pt.4

2010-03-15T12:18:00.000-07:00

The flight to Shanghai was fairly uneventful, but I did manage to put away the best part of a bottle of decent California cabernet with dinner, much to the steward’s angst and all the time enjoying The Commitments, which I was very surprised to see NWA had in their video library.
Upon landing I had about a 15 minute wait for immigration but poor Dave had a much longer wait. While waiting I found an ATM and looked about transportation into Shanghai, which is approx an hours taxi ride and maybe two hours on public transport. The newly opened Maglev train which runs at an incredible 275mph only operates between 9am and 5:30pm so would not even be of any use to us on our return as we had to be at the airport next Tuesday at 8am.
I checked out the taxi line and while there were plenty of them they were very small looking Volkswagens, Back inside the terminal I was approached by a young guy in an official uniform who inquired which hotel I was going to and that he could arrange transportation in a large sedan for 500 Yuan ($60).I knew the taxi fare should be in the range of 200 Yuan but being tired from the flight and knowing Dave had been squashed in the back the thought of an hour cramped in the back of a small Volkswagen was not very appealing, so I said yes and told him to hang on till my friend came through.
When Dave came out we told him to bring the car around and we see whether it was worth 500Y and it was, nice silver Acura. Not only was it comfortable but he got us to our hotel in 40 minutes, we thought he was trying out for the race on Sunday but little did we know this was tame compared to what we would encounter in the next few days.
As it turns out the Maglev train and New York’s train to the plane have a lot in common, both go to the airport and neither goes downtown. Just like N.Y. you have to take a subway to the airport train albeit a state of the art German engineered magnetic levitated train which has a top speed of 275 mph but what good is that when you are schlepping bags up and down stairs and escalators.
We checked into The Metropole Hotel, an old colonial building just a few blocks off The Bund, which was the heart of the Tai-Pan’s economic zone during the nineteenth century. Tai-Pan’s were the CEO’s of mostly British, French, Portuguese and Dutch companies that traded all the goods out of China to Europe
After throwing the bags in the rooms naturally we headed out for a few libations thinking we would just find some place and not bothering to ask at the desk, adventurous, yeah. Well it was rather dark outside, they do not have great street lighting, but we pressed on towards Nan-Jing Rd. There was a Mickey Dee’s on the corner which had rather a large crowd both inside and out. This did not look good, people gathering at McDonald’s at 10:30pm as a social hangout.
We pressed on a few blocks and then made a right turn, back in the direction of the hotel, this street was even darker and al of a sudden a couple of guys came out of the shadows offering to take us to bars, the first guy offered us a girlie bar but we said no, and the second guy offered to take us to a beer bar, so we followed him, but it turned out to be a girlie bar or to be more exact a brothel. We graciously declined and headed back to the hotel, grabbing a couple of cold beers on the way at a 711 (Lawson’s), we were tired and figured we have an early start in the morning.
I had read in the Shanghai Daily on the plane, that getting to the track last year had been a disaster. Only the night before the race had it was decided to provide free public buses, but nobody knew about them, so every body drove. This year they organized the buses well in advance and announced that they would leave from 4 central locations around the city. We showed the locations to the desk clerk in the hotel and asked her to write the address of the nearest in Mandarin so we could get a taxi.
Wow what a ride we had in the taxi, people think New York taxis are mad, they have nothing on these guys, and in fact the whole traffic situation is just plain chaos. Then when we got up on the elevated highway, more wow’s, the skyline was just spectacular, everyway you turned there was just more spectacular buildings and it went on and on into the suburbs.
When we got to Shanghai Stadium there was an incredible amount of buses but virtually nobody getting on them, we walked right on to the first bus and it left half empty. Once we got out of the city we were on virtually empty highways but it was a long ride, ninety minutes later we finally got to the track, it is in the middle of nowhere but at the rate that China is building it will be a suburb of Shanghai in a few years.
The track is absolute state of the art, this being only the second race at the facility, but there is one major flaw; they gave the catering contract to an American company, Aramark. Hamburgers, hot dogs, ham & cheese hero’s and one concession to Asian cuisine, chicken curry which did not look to appetizing. All the soft drinks were Coke Cola products and Fosters the sole beer supplier. In the Fosters tent behind the main grandstand it was very funny; when you walked up to the bar 10 little Chinese girls would all shout Ga’day, very cute. All in all, a disastrous culinary experience.
The second major disaster was the inflexibility of the police and security. During Friday and Saturday practice/qualifying you were only allowed to enter the facility through the gate marked on your ticket and could only sit in your designated seat. One of the major attractions of coming to the track on Friday and Saturday is the fact that you can wander around and experience the cars at various viewing points which can in turn influence your future purchase of tickets.
As a case in point the first year of a grand prix at the Indianapolis Speedway, 1999, Steve and I purchased seats in the southwest vista just before the final turn onto the main straight and at the entrance to the pit lane. Right away on Friday afternoon we hated the views and started looking for alternatives finally ending up at the other end of the track at the northwest vista which had views of the first six turns and we have been in those seats ever since. Looking down the track on race day, the southwest vista stand is totally empty.
After practice ended we decided to head back to Shanghai pronto as there was no point in sticking around, they would not even let you into the main grandstand after the cars had retired for the day.
Hopping on a bus in the same parking lot as we had disembarked we assumed it was heading back to Shanghai Stadium. After a very circuitous route through some very poor and dubious neighborhoods it was dark when we got back to the city and we did not immediately realize we were at a different stadium. We tried to walk around it, but it soon became obvious that was not an option and that was when we twigged it. Of course it was six o’clock on a Friday evening and like any busy city there was not a taxi to be seen anywhere. We had no clue where we were and lucked out when we saw a subway. This was a lot luckier than you would think in a city of ten million; they only have four subway lines, one each, north, east, south and west. This was the north one and we were able to get a train to Shanghai Railway Station which I knew was not that far from our hotel area.
Outside the main station it was murder trying to get a taxi, unlike the Japanese people who queue orderly, the Chinese are very rude and pushy, so when in Rome, do like the locals and give as good as you get. Within minutes we were on our way. Now I thought we had seen some amazing sights on the bus but they were nothing compared with some of the back alley’s this driver took, it was like going back 300 years and then he turns the corner, goes up the freeway entrance ramp, and you are back in the heart of a 21st century city, unbelievable.
.
Safely back at the hotel and after a quick shower it was time to see Nan Jing Road, Shanghai’s version of Time’s Square. Well it did not disappoint, enough neon to rival the best of them, Time’s Sq., Las Vegas and Shinjuku. As we walked up the street everybody wanted to sell us a Rolex watch, some wanted to sell CD’s and DVD’s and a few even wanted to sell their sisters!
After about twenty minutes of this crap, but what seemed like an eternity, we were gasping for a couple of cold beers and realized we had not seen one bar or anything even resembling one. Finally we spotted a bamboo tikki bar and dived in just to get away from the watch sellers whom were as eager as the African boys in Shinjuku at plying their trade.
Upon getting a couple of beers we realized in keeping with the tikki hut theme the place had no windows and all the watch sellers were congregated outside. Now in the front window were about 10 English guys who were being barracked by them, but one lad was taking charge and announced to all the watch boys that they would buy one watch in turn from each of them and if it passed their tests they would then purchase all that sellers watches.
Fair enough, all the boys agreed and the first Rolex was bought without any haggling for 100 Yuan ($12.50), the guy immediately dunks it into a pint of beer and declares the watch a failure, throws it back at the seller and shouts NEXT. The next lad offers his Rolex, gets his unquestioned 100Yuan and it receives the same treatment with the same results. A couple of the lads wander off knowing their watches don’t stand a chance but a few remain. The next watch gets the same treatment with again the same result and of course you would think this is the way it will go on all night until either the Brits fun kitty runs dry or they just tire of the game.
Well one young boy was still proudly offering his Rolex and it was dually bought and dunked, but low and behold it pasted the beer test. Everybody immediately sat up including us, the emcee started banging it on the table and it still kept going. Next he put it on the ground, stood up on his chair and jumped on it It still kept going so he took it outside on to the street and threw it as high as he could in the air, it came down with a thud but it was still working, amazing. Well a deal is a deal he declared and took out a large wad of notes to buy all his watches but the poor kid only had 2 , he could have sold 50 right there and then.
Now that was great street entertainment 
Time now to go in search of some dinner and I really wanted some crispy duck and just around the corner was a restaurant with huge pictures of golden crispy duck outside, well this had to be the place and in we went. Immediately we were impressed, there was not a foreigner in sight, just families sitting around big tables digging into glorious food but alas they were out of duck. Well everything on all the other tables looked so good we stayed and it was well worth the 600 Yuan we splurged on gorging ourselves. I’ve always liked Chinese food but this was spectacular, how would I ever be able to eat it stateside or in Europe again and we washed it all down with a couple of bottles of Great Wall cabernet, which wasn’t bad.
On the way back towards the hotel we looked for someplace to have a nightcap but there was none so we settled again for a couple of cans from Lawson’s and I decided to try a small bottle of Sake, wow, an arsonists delight, pure mentholated spirits, 100% flammable. Needless to say I did not even taste it, straight down the sink.
Saturday morning we again took a taxi to the National Stadium but knowing the length of the ride we did not jump on the first bus but waited for a more luxurious one of which there were plenty scattered amongst the hard seat city types. Getting on the bus we received a package containing various advertising crap and a map showing the four departure locations and the major roads surrounding Shanghai and the track so I was able to work out the routes. Three of the locations were using the same route and the only one that differed was the one we had taken home last night to Hongkou FC stadium, now I could work out our strategy for getting home after the race, getting stuck in the middle of nowhere with a 150,000 people it not the way I want to spend Sunday evening. Last week we had gotten real lucky in Suzuka in that our grandstand had been the closest to the train station.
After qualifying which the Renault boys dominated we made a dash for the Pudong area buses, as I calculated they would have to pass the Bund where we were staying and if we got lucky we could jump off around there. As the bus came over the cross-town expressway a guy from the back seat went down and had a word with the driver and came back smiling. I just instinctively knew he had asked to get off early and told Dave who had been dozing to be alert as he had the aisle seat. The exit ramp took us straight into the tunnel under the river but as soon as we came out the other side the bus pulled over and about half the passenger scampered off.
Sometimes things just fall into place perfectly and this was one of them, right across the street was a Citibank, for some much needed cash and just a few blocks away the Pearl Tower, which we were planning to visit on Monday and could now knock off at 4pm on Saturday afternoon.
Now it was a nice sunny afternoon and Pudong has some amazing architecture, but when we got up the top of the Pearl Tower you could hardly see a thing with the smog.

Going out for the evening we asked the front desk for recommendations firstly for a bar and then somewhere to get good crispy duck. The girl directed us to the Bund Brewing Company which was located in a small street very close to where the guy had taken us to the brothel on Thursday night, so near and yet so far. Next she said we should return to the hotel restaurant for the duck.
The brewing company was full of Europeans eating Chinese food with knives and forks, how pathetic, we almost turned and walked out but the hostess at the door was really really cute, a Chinese version of Sandra Bullock so we sat down and had a couple of the local version of Paulaner Weiss which was very nice. After a few liveners we headed back to the hotel for some much anticipated duck only to find that the restaurant was closing up at 8:30pm, damn, where am I supposed to get some duck!
On the way back we had passed an Italian, a French bistro and a local place called “Grandmothers”, well with a name like that we just had to give it a shot. It was very basic, formica top tables and plastic chairs but hey sometimes these little places can be gems in the rough, and oh how glad we were this was one of them., the eel, the duck, the shrimp the crabs, everything was great and we washed it all down with a couple of bottles of Dynasty cabernet and the happy smiles of grandma’s grand-daughter’s (waitress’s), all for 160 Yuan ($20).They were a very friendly bunch and only the hostess spoke a few words of English. This was dinner sorted for the next couple of days, why bother going in search of anything else.

After dinner we went for a walk along The Bund, I particularly wanted to see The Peace Hotel, legendary in Tai Pan Folklore. It has a magnificent marble lobby with chic restaurants and bars, but it was the roof bar I wanted to see, which has staggering views of the city, but is legendary, in that it is not well sign posted, a fact I was aware of, or we would never have known it existed. The views were stunning and as we enjoyed a couple of glasses of Great Wall cabernet, I was thinking it must be awesome to be posted here from some stuffy London bankers or insurance house with all expenses paid. A few moments later, a young man asked if he could share our table, “of course we said”. We got chatting and he was from London, I told him of my thoughts just before he sat down and low and behold he was living that dream. He worked for a London based insurance company and they had sent him here, all expenses paid, on a two year contract. He had been here three months and become so comfortable with everything he now rode a bicycle through the chaotic traffic to work. His younger brother had just flown out for a weeks vacation but was now sleeping off the jet-lag, they would be at the race.

Sunday morning, race day, we decided we had better get an early start to the track and having assessed the various departure points we decided that leaving from the most westerly area and returning via the northern stadium was our best plan of attack...
The girl at the desk when asked to write the International Gymnastic Center was perplexed and had to make a phone call, she wrote the instructions on a piece of paper which we gave to a cab driver and off we went. Well he seemed to go a different direction when we got off the east-west expressway which I expected but we ended up at the same stadium as the two previous mornings. I think I have since figured this out, that is where all the school children were being bussed from and they therefore did not want any westerners witnessing this.
When we got to the track and tried to walk anti clockwise to our grandstands we encountered thousands and thousands of school children of every age being shepherded into the outer grandstands. We had seen a few classes of children attending the previous day’s practices but nothing of this scale; it was obviously to fill the grandstands for the world television audience, as very few local people could afford the ticket prices.
After watching the early morning warm-ups and with 3 hours to wait for the main event we decided to retire to the Fosters tent and be entertained by the Ga’day girls. We grabbed a couple of ham n cheese hero’s with a couple of cold ones and settled in under a nice shady table just outside. Our friend from the Peace hotel, the previous evening came by with his brother and we had a nice chat, we told him about our encounter with the watch boys and the Brits on Nan-Jing rd., which really amused him, he had not done many of the touristy things yet.
The race itself was a rather non event; the two Renault’s made it into turn one ahead of the field, Fisichella held back the McLarens of Raikkonnen and Montoya while Alonso took off to secure Renault the manufacturer’s title, game, set and match.
After the race we headed as fast as we could for the Hong Kow stadium buses as we figured they were the fastest way back to the city and we were right. Unfortunately we were sat in front of one of those, know it all, expat women, that seem to be in the shadows of all those old colonial movies, when the British Empire ruled the world, “anyone for tea”. I felt sorry for the poor people stuck with her, I think they were work colleagues, every time they tried to change the subject it just lead to another field of her expertise.
They had obviously taken a different bus out to the track and had no idea what part of the city they were now in but she persevered, that she knew the city well and they would be alright. As the bus pulled up opposite the stadium she started to change her tack and announced this must be one of the slummier parts of the city she was not familiar with, I took great joy in turning around and telling her that there was a subway around the corner that would take them to the central Shanghai railway station.
At the main station I was quick to commandeer the first taxi I saw and had to fight off two women that appeared from nowhere and tried to grab, it but I was having none of it, we weren’t in Japan anymore! To the drivers surprise I jumped into the front seat and put on the seat belt, well he took this as a challenge to scare the shit out of me, but I was looking forward to the chaotic ride and he did not disappoint. After about ten minutes of ducking and diving up and down off the highways and under various structures we stopped at a light and Dave shakily inquired from the back seat if I had any idea where we were? I said and indicated that the hotel was about 3 blocks to our left, the cabbie looked at me in disbelief and made the left turn, sorted.
While Dave went off for a wander I had to go and write my column for Home & Away which would be fairly brief owing to the dull nature of this final race and the bland atmosphere of the track. While writing I tuned in Q104.3 radio station from New York on the internet, it was the Sunday morning “with The Beatles” show and to my surprise the DJ starts talking about a Beatles benefit he had attended on Saturday night, organized by Jason Shela. It freaked me out, Jason is a good friend of mine and here I am sitting in a hotel room in Shanghai listening to some deejay in New York prattle on about one of my mates. The world is getting to be a very small place, you can run but you cannot hide, scary stuff!
After getting the ol column out of the way, I was gasping for a taste of the old amber nectar, so after meeting up with Dave in the lobby we headed to see darling “Sandra” at the Bund bar for a few well deserved Weiss beers and then on to Grandmothers and the smiley waitresses to sate our hunger pangs.
As per the previous night, everything was great, the food, the wine and especially the service, we could not stop congratulating ourselves on such a fantastic find. The down side to this is, that now that I am back in New York, writing this some two months later, I can no longer eat New York Chinese food, it’s bland and tasteless.
As Monday was to be our only real sightseeing touristy day we hit the sack early Sunday night to get a running start in the morning.
Well we didn’t get quite as early a start as we had hoped, the track had really sapped us the day before. When I called Dave around 8:30ish it was ARRRRRRRRRGH I’ll see you in an hour.
One great thing in the mornings, you did not have to go looking for breakfast, they left these (2) little egg cakes in your room. It was an almost hard boiled egg inside a little sponge cake, very tasty with a green tea.
Anyway we met up in the lobby and decided to take the subway to Pudong and then the Maglev to the airport. What a train, well it looks like a train but there are no wheels and no rails, it levitates on a magnetic track while doing 275 MPH, unbelievable. Sitting down inside if you do not look out the window you would not know it was moving, mind you, you cannot see much outside anyway, it is all a blur.
We got back into Shanghai around noon and decided to try and find a floating restaurant called the Seagull which we had heard Miss Knowitall talking about on the bus yesterday. It was just over the small bridge at the end of the Bund behind a hotel on the water front. It was not exactly a floating restaurant but gave the impression it was. The whole place was set on an open deck, the large bar set in the hull of a boat with a bamboo roof and all the tables were set in the hulls of smaller boats and individually glass enclosed with bamboo roofs. With the river as a backdrop it was very impressive but unfortunately it was closed and did not open until evening. We vowed to return.
As we returned to The Bund we encountered the usual watch sellers but this guy had something different, Mao Tse Tung watches, his arm going back and forth in a wave, cute, so we decided to buy a couple as they would make cool gifts. He wanted Y200 a piece so we offered him Y400 for 4 and he took it.
It was now time to start thinking about lunch and I had read in the Zaget guide that celebrated chef Jean George who operates a couple of great restaurants in New York that costs an arm and a leg, if you can get a reservation, had opened a new place here on The Bund, that had a prix fixe 3 course lunch for Y188 that was not to be missed.
It was located at 3 The Bund, a fantastic old Victorian building that housed a very up scale mall and it was just around the corner from our hotel. We made 2:30 reservations and went back to our place to freshen up.
When we got back the place was fairly empty as the main lunch crowd had departed and we got a prime table over looking the river. The food was out of this world, I had the Foie Gras appetizer and roast duck entrée, absolutely superb, I might have to return to Shanghai just for lunch.
After lunch we had a wander up back up to Nan-Jing Road as we had only been there at night and we wanted to see if there were really were any bargains to be found. Most of the stores we looked in were full of your typical western crap and priced at what you could find in any big department store like Walmart or Target.
Further up the road as Dave had walked ahead I was approached by a young couple who professed to be starving artists, who had studied in San Francisco and New York. Being very skeptical I asked the young girl who spoke perfect English various questions about New York and she was very chatty and nostalgic when I explained I lived there. They were trying to get people to go look at their art which was being exhibited in a local gallery and I agreed, Dave had returned now and was also very skeptical but I said I was going so he tagged along.
They took us in through a shopping mall full of small stalls, mostly selling clothes and up in the elevator to an office floor where there was a small gallery. We were introduced to a little man with a long grey beard and hair, ala, the master in the old Kung Fu show.
Most of the art was of typical Chinese settings pagoda’s, waterfalls, crouching dragon’s etc., but I was drawn to an oblong floral painting which I immediately knew Leslie, my godson’s mother would really like, and it so happened to have been painted by the young girl who had enticed me in, sold. Dave also purchased a small painting which I think was for his dear mother in Dublin.
Back out on the street we were elated with our very original purchases, far superior than the tourist clap trap being offered in shop windows. We were not the target however of all this drivel, far from it, we were vastly outnumbered by Chinese tourist from other parts of the country and it was these country bumkins that the watch boys and other touts were actually after.
We stopped into another couple of shopping malls but there really was nothing worth buying until I glimpsed a long black coat that was cut perfectly straight down to mid thigh with a high stand-up collar. I tried it on and it fit, I’m not sure where I can wear it but for $28 I was having it.
After a quick walk around peoples square it was time to head back for a few beers at the Bund Brewing Co. with the lovely “Sandra Bullock”. Being early Monday evening the place was quiet and all the waitresses were hanging out at the end of the bar. Sipping our beers we noticed they were all in a huddle, tittering and giggling and when one of them noticed we were looking the tittering got louder and two of them pointed towards me! I thought maybe it was red England Beckham shirt I was wearing ( he is so big in the East) and indicated so by pulling on the sleeve and pointing to the back but the older bartender said no between laughs, it was my platinum silver hair was the source of their admiration and amusement 

Flattering as it was to have all these sixteen and seventeen year olds fawning over my hair we left to dump the shopping at the hotel and go revisit the floating restaurant and see what they had to offer. By the time we got there it was dark and easy to see why they did not bother opening during the daylight hours. The bar and all the individual boat hulls were lit with paper lanterns and strands of fairy lights connected all the structures. Out on the river real floating restaurants, dinner cruise boats all lit up in neon, cruised up and down in front of the magnificent Pudong skyline backdrop, it was an awesome sight to behold and totally blows away any myth that Manhattan is the most spectacular skyline.
We sat down ordered a couple of beers and perused the menu! Well I don’t know what Mrs. Knowitall ate when she found this place but it was obviously for locals and visitors with an extremely educated Chinese cuisine palate. Not that we were going to eat anyway, it was after all our last night and we had to dine with the girls at Grandmother’s and have a nightcap at the Bund bar.
Our flight on Tuesday morning was at 10am so we had to be there by 8 so we had to check out of the hotel at 6:30, an ungodly hour to be ending a vacation on, but it was a long way home. We got a regular cab and it was nowhere near as comfortable or as fast as the car we had hired coming in and it was only a few minutes before we rued not getting his number.
Check-in was a rather easy formality but I must say this was the only time I have ever enjoyed going through security. Naturally my knee implant set of the metal detector, it was 2 young girls manning the gate and led me off to the side where I expected them to call a male colleague for the pat down, but surprisingly they started to perform it themselves, all the while smiling and blushing, I think they enjoyed it as much as I did!
At the duty free we spent all our remaining yuan on silk presents which were an excellent value, then I dived into the first class lounge for an eye opener before the pre flight champers on board.
On board I had the pleasure of being seated beside a beautiful and very smart young Chinese girl who worked for Dell computers, she was on her first trip out of the country going to Austin, Texas. She wanted to know all about New York and I wanted to know more about the rapid growth of Shanghai and their love of American fast food, I had never seen so many Kentucky Fried Chicken’s and she explained that due to them Pepsi had out sold Coke in 2005 for the first time and she seemed quite proud of the fact. She also explained that they sell a lot more than just chicken and it is considered a treat for the whole family to go there for an afternoon and they are also very popular date venues, go figure.
Sadly she was switching to American Airlines at Narita, I would have really liked her company to Detroit.
On our way out of Narita I had spotted a beautiful blue kimono which I said I would pick-up on the return so I headed straight for the duty free zone. It was still there although I’m sure not the same one but anyway I started to try it on when an assistant came over to see if I need help, I said I don’t think so, these come one size fits all, right? Yes she replied, is she a large woman? Woman! I was buying this for myself, oh she said and blushed very brightly…..the men’s are down here. She pulled out a few and they were all just cotton and only black and white with very dull designs, but I felt very self conscious now about the so called woman’s gown, so I bought nothing. Reflecting on it later I should have just bought it, it fit and was a beautiful royal blue with a golden dragon on the back, good job I’m already booked to return next year, I’ll say nothing and just buy the one in the package.
The flight to Detroit was very uneventful and I was very disappointed NWA ran out of Japanese meals. I managed to stay awake the whole way and consequently when I got home that evening I went to bed early and after a 12 hour sleep I was right back on New York time.

Inaugural asian Tour Pt.3

2010-03-15T12:17:00.000-07:00

Tuesday morning we caught the 10am Shinkansen to Hakata on the southern island of Kyushu, you can actually catch a ferry here to Pusan in South Korea. We had basically done the 3 hour trip to see the countryside and visit Hiroshima. Well we did not see as much scenery as we thought we would, southern Japan is very mountainous and the high speed train was in and out of tunnels every couple of minutes.
In Hakata we had an hour till the return train so we looked at the map, picked canal city as a likely destination and headed in that direction. It was a 20 minute walk and surprisingly we found a nice shrine there.
Back at the station we grabbed some box lunches for the journey to Hiroshima. Every station kiosk sells them and they are excellent value for money, a mix of sushi and noodles from Y700 to Y1200. Yeah it’s a real expensive place alright.
At Hiroshima the A bomb memorial and museum were clearly sign posted via a tram which took about 10/12 minutes. It’s an eerie feeling riding through a city that was totally demolished less that sixty years ago and is now completely rebuilt.
The Atomic Bomb & Peace Memorial Park which is a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage Site, is a deeply moving emotional place that makes you examine your conscience. The dome building at the north end of the park was the only structure left standing afterwards, as the bomb had detonated directly overhead, instantly cremating everything in a one kilometer radius. When a lady who was saying prayers , spotted us, she insisted on bestowing upon each of us a blessing!

It was a quiet reflective train ride back to Osaka.
That evening we went looking for another ex pat bar we saw on the map, The Covent Garden, which turned out to be a really nice Canadian bar in a quiet neighborhood of small restaurants and boutiques . It was about a ten minute walk west of the Pig n Whistle. After a few Asahi’s we headed back towards the Pig n Whistle area which is where all the neon and brashness starts.
Getting hungry, I was all for going back to the same place as last night, there were a lot of other items on the menu to taste but the others were into trying something different and different was what Steve got. It wasn’t late, around 9:30 but we noticed a lot of restaurants were starting to close up so they opted for a very garish looking place with some 4 floors, the food getting more elaborate and expensive the higher you went. I know this because there was a large showcase outside with plastic samples & prices per floor. We opted for the ground floor plastic tables and chairs and the food was quite good, but the fun was watching Steve eat his while the bowl of broth had a fire underneath of petroleum jelly, that you could not put out, Niagara falls was coming off his forehead while he tried to slurp his way through it. Thank god Murphy’s was only around the corner when he finally finished it. He said it was great and I’m sure it was, just very difficult to eat.
Next morning we caught the 10am Shinkansen to Tokyo which is a nice relaxing 3 hour run with limited stops. Upon arrival in Tokyo it felt like home, familiar surroundings, we just hopped on the Chuo line and were in Shinjuku in 20 minutes. After throwing the bags in the hotel we decided to go see the shrine where Steve had his Chelsea prayer said.
Harajuku is just 2 local stops down the line going towards Shibuya, what a great street scene, it was the St. Marks place of Tokyo, except better. As we walked towards the shrine I got stopped by two young reporters and asked if I would do a quick interview for Radio Tokyo, for which I was only to happy to oblige. They asked questions like where I had been in Japan, what I thought of the country/food/culture and what had inspired me to come. Well when I told them I had come from New York for the Formula 1 they thought it was fantastic and I told them we adored their country. All the time I did not know I was under the watchful eye of a giant David Beckham billboard, brilliant.
I wonder if it was ever broadcast?
The shrine was very nice and Steve checked to make sure some wayward Chelsea fan had not disturbed his prayer plaque, it was intact and as of writing this in early November they have been beaten twice and drawn once but not in the Premier League, still he has a chance this weekend when they play his beloved Manchester United.
Back out in Harajuku we spotted a football shop and of course had to have a look, England and Premier League club shirts were over a $100 each, knock offs in Shinjuku were $10 each. United had been in Japan on their pre-season tour so, Steve and Dave were able to pick-up lots of little souvenirs.
Back on the street we followed the crowd and found ourselves walking down what is known as Fashion Alley, WOW. The girls fashion here is out of this world and this is 4pm on Wednesday afternoon, apparently Sunday is the day to be here when they all really dress-up outrageously, well we will just have to go back.
We adjourned back to The Hub in Shinjuku for happy hour and to grab a quick shower at the hotel. It was our last night in Tokyo and we did not want to waste any of it.
We had not been to the Roppongi area yet but it is notorious for strip clubs and there were enough of them where we were, so we decided to head for Shibuya and a pub called The Aldgate. We actually found it very easily and they had a decent selection of beers except most of them were British, but there were a couple of local micro brews, which were pretty good.
There was a young single girl sitting next to me drinking a pint of Guinness and naturally I had to ask her how she acquired a taste for it, a friend had turned her on to it some years ago and she thought this place served one of the best pints. She visited a few times a week for the black nectar and the music. The bar had one of the best music collections I have ever seen, over 6,000 vinyl/CD albums, in between pulling pints they play any requests.
Well we could not leave Tokyo without a revisit to our new favorite pubs, Hazelburn and Mother’s, so back to Shinjuku we headed and made it to Hazelburn by midnight running the gauntlet of the African pimps.. After a few pints of Speckled Hen, some Haggis Bruchette and a few single malts, we went in search of Mother’s. In the labyrinth of small lanes none of could remember where it was. So after half an hour and finding ourselves standing out side our hotel, I gave up and retired for the night. Steve and Dave pressed on but Dave gave up ten minutes later and of course you know it, Steve found it around the next corner.
The next morning we checked out of the hotel at eleven and had three hours to kill until the train to the plane (Narita Express). First we went to visit the Takashimaya Department store which has an open roof garden and great views of the Tokyo skyline. Then it was off to find the little lunch place we had found the first day. After another successful meal we retired to the station and just sat outside on the plaza for a while which is something we should have been doing everyday, the people watching was incredible.

Now in all our travels up and down Japan on every kind of transport we had never once heard anyone talking on their cell phone. Everybody had them in their hands with their thumbs twitching away but no talking. Well we are on the Narita Express from Shinjuku and at Tokyo station a big guy gets on and I said to Dave “ spot the yank” and sure enough he sat down behind Steve, pulled out his cell and started talking to a friend, REALLY LOUD. Everyone in the car were putting their fingers to their lips but he took no notice and American’s wonder why nobody likes them when they travel!
At Narita we went our separate ways, Steve with his AA Platinum card was eager to try all the One World first class lounges. He had researched them on flyertalk.com and each one had different strengths, Cathy Pacific obviously for its food, I think British Airways for the drinks and I’m not sure if American had any, I might be wrong.
Dave and I were on a different concourse for Northwest, on a business class ticket i had access to their lounge and I tried to get Dave in, but too no avail.

Inaugural Asian Tour Pt.2

2010-03-15T12:15:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning at 6:30am and the Nagoya subway is already more crowded than the New York City transit at mid-afternoon on a weekday. The platform at the Nagoya JR station was packed with race fans, but fortunately our first class rail passes came in handy again, we were in the front car of a very cool sightseeing train with a virtual all glass surround and huge comfy seats. Well Steve and I were, we could only get 2 first class seats and 1 in regular, very graciously the lads said I should take one of the first class seats as I had organized everything and they drew straws for the other, Dave lost.
As this was a special train and regular traffic had preference on the single track, a relatively short journey took over an hour, we got to Suzuka circuit around 8:30 which was fine with us as the race was not scheduled to start until 2pm. There was a tremendous carnival atmosphere about the place and it seemed virtually everyone had either Honda or Toyota colours on, and they were buying more by the armful. A barra bhoys (a London market trader) dream.
Our seats were located at the entrance to turn one, just at the end of the pit exit line, a superb spot and one of the best overtaking parts of the track. Naturally we had a celebratory beer to mark the occasion and then split up to explore the circuit.
A fantastic wave of aromas sweep over you as you wander around, small stalls everywhere offering tempting morsels of whose origin I had no idea, but what the hell, they were all 3 to 400 yen ($3.50-$4) so I tried everything. When I got back to the seats around noon I was totally full. Steve then starts telling me about an amazing dish he just had of noodles, veggies and fried egg but there was no way I could squeeze one in.
It was a very hot day, which was totally unexpected, fortunately I had brought a hat but Dave hadn’t and it was costing him dearly. When we split up to explore I told him to get a hat but he delayed and now his head looked like a volcano interior.
We were the only westerners in our grandstand, we had seen others while wandering around, but they must have all been sitting in the main stands, probably having bought their tickets through F1 Tours. I had purchased ours directly from the track, which had been quite a challenge, but now so worth it.
Everyone around us were so optimistic of a Japanese victory, what with Ralf Schumacher’s Toyota on pole, Jensen Button’s BAR- Honda second and local hero Takuma Sato’s BAR-Honda in fifth, but unfortunately it all started to unravel right from the get go. Ralf got off to a flyer but Sato was forced wide at the start in turn one and had to pit immediately, then on lap ten he forced Trulli’s Toyota off the track ending his day. Ralf got passed in the pits on lap 26 and finished eighth, Button could only manage fifth. Sato did finish last of the runners but was later disqualified for the incident with Trulli.

Although all the locals were very disappointed this was one of the greatest races ever and the high point happened right in front of us. Kimi Raikkonen pulled off the most astonishing win of his young career, starting from seventeenth on the grid, due to an engine change on Friday, and abysmal rain conditions during Saturday qualifying, he stormed through the field to overtake Giancarlo Fisichella going into turn one on the final lap to take the win and kept McLaren’s constructors title chances alive until the final race of the season, next week in Shanghai, which Dave and I were traveling on to. Steve was not joining us as the American Advantage miles program could not do the routing and the cost of an extra ticket between Tokyo and Shanghai was prohibitive.
We were unable to secure return tickets on a special train and therefore had to make a run for the station as soon as Kimi crossed the finish line. There was a long line when we got to the station but when the first train pulled out we were in position to make the second and luckily did so, Dave was about to pass out from sun-stroke. Unfortunately for Dave like the morning train this one also got stopped a lot and took over an hour to reach Nagoya.
When we got back to the hotel we were all pretty knackered, Dave was done for the day, I had to write my column for Home & Away and Steve was left to his own devices.
Around 9:30 I was almost finished my column and went out to the 711 to grab a snack and bumped into Steve at the traffic light, he was heading to an Aussie bar that someone had tipped him off about. So I joined him and it was a quiet last night in Nagoya.

For the next couple of days we had no set plans so we decided to make Osaka our base, it was only an hour away on the Shinkansen, from there we could visit Hakara, Hiroshima and Kyoto I had looked on the internet and there appeared to be plenty of hotels near Shin Osaka station so we hopped on the nine o’clock train, Dave was feeling a lot better and on the way to Osaka we decided to spend the rest of the day riding the rails after we found a hotel, we figured we could make it down to Hakara with a stop in Hiroshima and back in 8 hours but what we had not figured was that Monday was a national holiday and all the seats on the Shinkansen were reserved.
For once we came out the right side of the station and I spotted the New Osaka Hotel, it was right across the street and they had 3 rooms @ Y8,000 ($69) per night, pretty good for a walk up rate. Asiarooms.com had quoted $65 online.
So with all the south bound trains booked we decided to head for Kyoto as it was only fifteen minutes on the Shinkansen. At the tourist information booth we picked up a map and the agent outlined all the major shrines and temples, although there were signs pointing towards a sightseeing tour bus we were unable to find it, so we headed for the subway to figure out which sites were accessible. Kyoto Imperial Palace was only 3 stops and then Heian-Jingu shrine was a 15/20-minute walk from there, so off we went. Kyoto is a beautiful clean city as befits the ancient capital.

The Imperial Palace was very disappointing but the gardens at the Heian-Jingu shrine were a harmonious blend of stone and plant allotments, sculpted evergreen trees, all interwoven between Lilly ponds with stepping stones from bank to bank.
Upon our return to Osaka we headed downtown and decided to check out the local ex pat bars, first we looked for Murphy’s, but could not find it, so we went looking for the Pig & Whistle, which we found courtesy of a large Union Jack. After a few beers we consulted another pub guide and it showed Murphy’s on a better map, we had been right beside it but did not look-up high enough, it was on the seventh floor which is typical in Japanese cities. We decided to give it another shot and thank god we did as Michael the manager/bartender sent us to a great restaurant for dinner.
Michael was from Foxrock, south Dublin and had gone to Australia six years ago to visit his sister who is married to a Japanese man there. After a few months he decided to head home but wanted to go via Japan so naturally asked his new brother-in-law for some advice. Turns out his brother-in-law owns the bar and made Michael the manager, he has been there ever since.
We had noticed that every bar we had been in Japan so far had Guinness on draft, so we asked Michael about it and he said it was very good, but not until at least 4 or 5 pints had been pulled. Dave and I were up for it but Michael had only pulled 2 pints so far, it was a holiday Monday! Anyway we were getting hungry so we asked for some local recommendations and Michael sent us to his favorite place, at which he explained they spoke no English, hell we were getting used to that.
Well we found it easily enough and of course they wanted to take us downstairs to the traditional style room where you sit cross legged on tatami mats, I showed them that my leg did not bend and they took us back upstairs, everybody saving face. We ordered some sake and three different meat/noodles/broth dishes and they were superb and so cheap Y7800 about $67 for the lot.
After dinner we walked around to get a better look at downtown Osaka and then had to find a subway before they closed.

Inaugural Asian Tour Pt.1

2010-03-15T12:12:00.000-07:00

I have had a fascination with the Orient, particularly with Japan, since I was a child, but the distance and cost of getting there had always been a major roadblock in my plans. Added to that, were the stories of how expensive it is, not to mention finding someone with my same interests to travel with, so it is easy to see why it took fifty years to come to fruition.
Being a lover of Formula One racing since the early sixties, my friend Steven Whittle and I had been going to every race at The Indianapolis Speedway since they had brought racing back to the USA in 1999. After our successful mileage trip to Australia in 2002 to watch the World Cup, to which, Steve had flown via Japan, we decided it would be a great idea to go to the Japanese Grand Prix in Suzuka. At the time I was writing the Formula One column for a small sports orientated local newspaper, which I co-owned, called Home & Away, so I could write the trip off as a business expense.
Each year our group to Indianapolis got larger and by 2004 we were up to about ten guys, one of the newest members to our troupe, was a young Irishman, Dave Murray, who had only been in New York for a few years and not travelled much. When he heard of our plans, he asked if he could tag along, why not. We explained that we were doing this on our frequent flyer mileage and he said he had enough Delta miles to go in coach, I was using Delta miles for business class and Steve was using American Airlines miles for first class.
I volunteered to take care of the tickets and hotels once everyone confirmed they had secured flights, but when I looked at the race schedule for 2005, I discovered an anomaly in the calendar, usually races are staged 2 weeks apart to allow for travel, but the Chinese race was scheduled for the following Sunday. We could go to both on the same tickets; we would just use Tokyo as a stop-over to Shanghai. I proposed this to the guys and Dave was delighted but Steve could not get the extra time off work.
Tuesday Oct.4th 2005 dawned and it was a beautiful day, temperature in the sixties with nary a cloud in the sky, a great day to fly. I met up with Dave at La Guardia (LGA) airport to embark on the first leg of our trip, to Tokyo (Narita airport), Japan via Detroit.
Dave’s coach ticket and had originally been scheduled to fly direct from JFK to Narita but due to high fuel costs and low seat demand Northwest Airlines (Delta’s partner) had cancelled the flight just a few weeks prior to our departure and he been rebooked on my schedule. I was in Northwest Airlines First/Business and had always been scheduled to travel from LaGuardia via Detroit, for some reason they never gave me the choice of the direct flight.
As per usual for LGA the flight was delayed taking off and it would be touch and go if we would make the connection in Detroit. There were several passengers on board who had originally been scheduled for the direct flight out of JFK and we all made the staff aware of our plight. The Captain had originally informed us that we would be arriving at gate 28 and that the Narita flight was leaving from gate 70, a long hike. As we taxied along the terminal I spied gate 68 open and holy cow he pulled into it, the Captain had informed the tower of the large number of passengers connecting to the Japan flight, hence the new gate. Being in row A, I was first off the plane and ran to the next gate to inform them there were a lot of passengers making the connection. I waited to make sure Dave made it as he had been seated all the way in the back. He made it and with enough time for me to grab a quick glass of champers while he was questioned by Homeland Security, they somehow thought he was taking large sums of money out of the country!!
My seat-mate during the flight worked for XM radio and was being sent to Seoul, Korea, to investigate the possibilities of opening a station there. This was an incredible chalk and cheese situation, I would love if someone paid my freight, especially in First/Business class to go explore The Orient, whereas it was a massive inconvenience for him, he would not like the food, was not sure if he would be able to find a McDonalds and he was missing several important college football games. Needless to say he only ordered American cuisine on the flight, whereas I ordered everything I could not pronounce.
Upon our arrival in Narita, it was now Wednesday approx 5:30pm local time (4:30am NY), Steve was waiting outside customs, he had arrived an hour before us and promised to locate an ATM machine and the train to Tokyo, obviously he had been very bored for an hour as the Citibank ATM was approximately thirty feet away and the train was at the bottom of the escalator next to the ATM, we got some yen and caught the next Narita Express to Shinjuku, Tokyo.
Shinjuku, an area of Tokyo, which has a reputation as a red light district, is a warren of small streets and alleys with no names, but I had an idea where our hotel was, so long as we came out the northeast corner of the station. This said naturally we got on at the rear of the train and ended up at the southwest corner of the station. I should point out here that Shinjuku railway station is one of the largest and busiest in the world, not just Japan, handling over 2 million people a day.
Exiting Shinjuku station is a complete assault on all of your senses, your eyes try to comprehend all the huge video screens and endless rows of multi coloured neon lights, your ears are deafened by the cacophony of music coming from every direction, the enormous crowds stampede you and the smells are intoxicating, WOW Tokyo.

Although quite disorientated we eventually found the right end of the station and preceded in the direction of the hotel, which was supposed to be a 5 minutes walk, but we found it in 10 and only had to cut through a small section of the red light district. Thankfully The Vintage Hotel was set a few blocks away from all the chaos, across the street from a hospital and a baseball batting cage, a strange combination. The Vintage had the smallest rooms I have ever been in, they make Manhattan studio apartments look like mansions, but what do you expect for $75 a night in Tokyo. What really caught my eye was in the bathroom, there were all sorts of buttons and dials on the side of the toilet, this I had to try, when you sat down it flushed and when you are finished, it washes you with a stream of warm water and of course there is the option of front or back! No wonder they think western hygiene habits are barbaric.
It was now around 9pm and we quickly threw our bags in and headed out for a well deserved beer. Within a few minutes we came across a small Irish pub, The Angel, in the basement of a trendy boutique shopping plaza, gasping for repast we entered an sure enough it was a little bit of Ireland in Japan, people playing darts and watching football (soccer) on the television, they even had Guinness on draught, but we opted for the local brew and ordered 3 Asahi draughts.
After a few beers we set out to see what the neighborhood was like. We were right on the edge of the Red light district and there was neon everywhere, lots of massage parlours, clubs of every persuasion, shot bars (liquor only) and sake bars, but not much in the way of regular pubs. We eventually opted for another Irish pub, Dubliners, a theme chain which was terrible, one drink and we were out the door.
After wandering around for a little while longer and being badgered by African guys trying to persuade us to go into their clubs, we came across a Scottish bar called, Hazelburn, and so in we went. It was very dark and there were no westerners, which was a plus. Nobody spoke any English, but they made us very welcome at the bar and we ordered 3 Speckled Hens (English beer), they had no local beer. Upon looking at the menu we found everything was western, but what really caught our eye was the Haggis Brushetta! Well curiosity and hunger deemed we order some, with a couple of portions of fish n’ chips, it was all very good.
Being a Scottish bar they naturally had a great assortment of Scotch whiskies and it was brilliant to watch the bartender take about 10 minutes to mix a scotch and water. The whiskey was placed in the bottom of a large but narrow based glass, a large orb of ice was then placed above it but not actually touching the whiskey and the water was drizzled very slowly over the ice while it was constantly stirred. The whiskey never touches the ice until you take a sip, incredible attention to detail for such a basic drink.
We sampled a few single malts and the prices were very reasonable, I had heard that single malts cost a fortune in Japan but these were cheaper than New York and a few even cheaper than Edinburgh. It was now around midnight and I was feeling exhausted, so I left the boys there and headed back to the hotel fighting my way through the African pimps.
Wednesday morning I was up bright and early and decided to take a walk around the neighbourhood, it was incredibly, there were 10 McDonalds within a 6 block radius and about half a dozen Starbucks. I thought about my seat-mate from the flight and hoped he had found such a bounty in Seoul.
The lads arose at nine and we went to the station to activate our Japan Rail passes and book seats from Nagoya to the track in Suzuka. Unfortunately there were only a few remaining and we had to settle for the 7:16am which would make for a very long day at the track. The office to activate the passes did not open until 11am so we took a ride to Shibuya in search of an ex-pat bar that advertised they show English football. We could not find it so returned to Shinjuku station and got our rail passes. We had a listing for another footy bar one subway stop away at the other end of Shinjuku so we went looking for that and actually found it, but they did not open until 5pm. This was a very local area devoid of tourists so we decided to find someplace for lunch. We found a small place which had the New York Yankees vs California Angels, American League baseball play-off game on TV, but it was packed, so we settled for a little place around the corner. Three sushi lunch specials and two large beers was only 2400 yen which is about $23, who said Tokyo is expensive.
For the afternoon we decided to explore the JR over ground train system and see how to get to Tokyo station as we had early reservations on the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Nagoya. on Saturday morning. From the station it was a twenty minute walk to the Imperial Palace, but upon arrival we found it was closed, but the grounds open, we walked around for a while but totally missed the Japanese Gardens.
From the palace it was another twenty minute walk south to the Ginza area and a visit to Bic camera store, supposedly the largest in the world. They had some amazing stuff but I think J&R in New York, actually beat their prices. It was now well past beer time so we headed back to the footy pub which was open.
The place was owned by an Aussie from Melbourne and was an electrical firetrap, literally hundreds of wires all over the place plugged into extension cords. Anyway he had Asahi on draft and gave us directions to the other footy pub, Footniks, as the place was empty we stayed for a few.
Now the reason we were so emphatic about finding a footy bar was the following Wednesday night England were playing Poland in their final World Cup qualifier and it could be a crucial game depending on the result against Austria on Saturday.
On Saturday we were scheduled to be in Nagoya, I had found a pub through the internet and already e-mailed the manager, Tommo, to confirm the England vs Austria game was being shown, although now with a 7am train to the track we might have to forgo the match, which kicks off at 12:45am local time.
After a rest and shower we decided to go find Footniks which was actually in Ebisu one stop further than Shibuya. We had rough directions, out of the station 2 blocks and make a right except of course we came out the wrong station exit, again, anyway after wandering around without any luck for 20 minutes we decided upon a hip looking Japanese restaurant to eat. A selection of appetizers, 3 excellent main courses and 2 bottles of good sake a grand total of 8950 Yen which is about $78, fantastic.
After dinner we went in search of and found Footnik, it was actually a Liverpool supporters pub, but after chatting with the manager he assured us the England vs Poland game would be shown, on the 12th @ 3:45am.
By now it was getting rather late and we realized that the last train back to Shinjuku would be leaving soon so we hightailed it to the station and just made it. These are the trains you have seen on the television and in movies, with people getting packed in, I almost could not breath.
Anyway we made it back and went looking for the Scottish bar, Hazelburn, for a nightcap but none of us could remember exactly where it was and now the African boys were really setting their sights on us, which really annoyed me. Two of them were having a go at Steve & Dave when I spotted a sign for a rock n roll basement bar called “Mothers”, I signaled the lads to follow me and down the stairs we went, incredible! Heavy metal being played at full volume and only about 4 people sitting at the 8 stools with a salary man at the end of the bar with his date shouting “s*ck my c*ck” in time with the music.

After a couple of beers I was feeling knackered but Steve and Dave were loving the place, so I left them there. It is now one of Steve’s all-time world favorite bars.
We had agreed to meet up at 9am to take a trip to the mountain region of Hakone but Steve was looking a little worse for wear and cried off, (he had closed Mother’s at 4:30am.). So Dave and I headed off into the unknown.
Trying to enter Shinjuku station against the out pouring hoards during rush hour is a daunting task but we managed to battle our way in and grab some breakfast sandwiches and coffee before the 10am train to Odawara. The first class cars on these regional trains are excellent, it was a double decker with panoramic windows and reclining seats.
Upon our arrival in Odawara we could see it was very misty up in the mountains and we would probably not see Mount Fuji so we just bought a couple of bus passes and jumped on, not knowing where we were going, hey we were on an adventure. We sat in the back row to get the best possible views and an elderly couple who had been sitting across from us on the train sat down next to us again. The woman was eager to start a conversation as she was taking English lessons; she asked where we were from and why we were in Japan. She was fascinated when I told her we lived in Manhattan and asked if I had been to Greenwich Village. When I told her I lived there she was in awe, she had heard of all the jazz clubs, the Blue Note, the Vangaurd etc. They were going to visit their son who was a hotel manager up in the mountains and attend their grand children’s kindergarten sports day.
The bus trip took an hour up through spectacular scenery ending at Lake Ashi which has 2 replica junks for tours which we declined, as it was rather misty, likewise with the Ariel tramway from which you can glimpse Mt.Fuji.
Back in Odawara we decided to take the Shinkansen (Bullet Train) back to Tokyo as the local from Shinjuku had taken 90 minutes and this would only take 25 plus it was our chance to get one up on Steve. The first class seats on the Shinkansen are like airline first class and defiantly well worth the extra few bucks, kudo’s to Steve on this one. From Tokyo station we decided to take the JR Chuo line back to Shinjuku and it was much quicker than either the subway or the Narita Express.
Back at the hotel we met up with Steve who had spent a leisurely afternoon at the Meiji shrine in Yoyogi Park and even had a prayer said for somebody to please beat Chelsea!
At this point we had no set plans for Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday next week following the race but now decided we all definitely wanted to return to Tokyo for our last night, so we inquired about an extra night only to find the hotel was fully booked, but they did recommend The Kent, which was half way to the station, we got 3 rooms for $80 a piece. A beer was now definitely in order and there was a Hub around the corner. These are a chain of English style pubs but without the ex-pats. Happy hour was in progress and the clientele seemed to consist mostly of shop girls, very easy on the eyes. When happy hour ended a lot of them drifted off and the remaining ones were joined by their boyfriends so it was time to start thinking about dinner.
We took a train one express stop up to Ikebukuro, It was a bit of a damp drizzly evening and after wandering around for a bit we found a small Irish bar in a cellar that had a band advertised out front. The band did not look like much so after a couple of beers we went in search of food. We spotted this place a few minutes away that looked interesting so in we went. In side the door there was a menu with pictures of the food and a machine that you ordered from, you punched in the numbers, it gave you a total, you paid and it spat out some tickets which you gave to a waitress. Japan’s answer to fast food, except it was really good. Dinner including a beer was about 1200 Yen, approx $11, yeah Japan is really expensive!
We walked back to our hotel down some very dark allies but we never felt threatened, there were lots of little restaurants and bars with just a few seats in each and fantastic odors wafting out the doors. At the hotel we decided to have a nightcap at a little local place rather than run the gauntlet of the African lads. A couple of salary men at the bar got a great kick out of me trying to order sake and the barmaid was beside herself in laughter, One of the men spoke a little English and explained it was not a sake bar, I knew that but it didn’t hurt to ask, oh well it gave them a chuckle.

Saturday morning and we check out of the hotel at 8am in order to catch the 9:05am Shinkansen from Tokyo station to Nagoya. The plan was to get to Nagoya at 11:05 pop the bags into a locker and catch the 11:30 train to the track for qualifying. Well you know what happens to the best laid plans of mice and men, correct; we could not find any empty lockers! So we were forced to abandon qualifying and go looking for our hotel, another little adventure. This time when we exited the subway I had no clue which way it was even though I had a crude map which Japan Travel had faxed me. Dave took matters in hand and marched into a nearby 711 with the map and came back with directions, it was about 7 blocks away, sorted.
Before I left New York I had inquired on various websites looking for football bars and in Nagoya I had found Shooters, whom I had contacted and received a reply from the manager Tommo with directions from our hotel.
Upon our arrival at Shooters the place was packed as several World Cup qualifiers were already on the telly so we squeezed into a corner and ordered some beers. I inquired of the Aussie at the door where Tommo was and told him who I was, well a couple of minutes later a round of shooters (Kamikaze’s in Japan!) arrived and then mysteriously a great table with views of all the screens was offered to us. Naturally we had to accept and then Tommo made his appearance and thanked me profusely for coming all the way from New York. Now we were stuck, I should never have said a word. We would at least have to stay and eat something and all they had was traditional English/Australian pub fare, yuck! I had an auzzie meat pie and if I remember right Steve and Dave had fish n chips but there was no way we were staying for the England game at midnight with a 6am alarm for a seven o’clock train. I made my apologies to Tommo and we walked back to the hotel hoping to see at least another bar on the way for a nightcap but no such luck, a couple of beers from the 711 and an early night.

French Trip 2009

2009-08-11T06:40:00.000-07:00

France Trip 2009

It had been 32 years since I last passed through Paris, enroute to Athens, on the Magic Bus, it had only been for a few hours, but it was magical, I was really looking forward to returning on this trip.
Originally it had been planned last year as a joint trip to cover both the British & French Formula 1 Grand Prix’s, both of which were slated to be the last at their respective tracks. Unfortunately the French got cancelled before the season even started due to the financial downfall of the world markets and their main sponsor.
Due to a lot of research on tripadvisor.com I had booked all my trains and hotels in advance when the dollar was at a favourable rate to the Euro, but I had a slight quandary, I only had an hour and a half between arriving at the Gare Nord in Paris on the Eurostar @ 3:50pm and transferring to the SNCF train for Cahor at Gare Austerlitz @ 5:31pm, the SNCF require that you exchange the on-line booking confirmation for a hard ticket (unlike Eurostar) and unfortunately the French ticket machines do not accept American issued credit cards, leaving you the only option of queuing up at a ticket window, which are notoriously slow.
A query on tripadvisor.com solved the problem, someone told me I should try the Rail Europe office on Lower Regent Street, in London, and it worked a treat. I produced my on-line confirmation and credit card and the tickets were issued in seconds. It was such a relief to know that I would not have to line up in Paris, but have time to look around and find some food and wine as the trip to Cahors was over 5 hours.
I had thought Gare Nord would be like St. Pancras in London, which has 2 branch’s of Mark’s & Spencer’s to buy supplies for your trip, (I had some strawberries and a half bottle of bubbly for the Eurostar) but alas all I could find were baguettes and coffee/soft drink kiosks, but not to worry, I had time on my hands, so I went for a quick wander around a few blocks. This being a major rail hub, there had to be something, but alas, again, no. I returned to the Gare defeated and just bought 2 baguettes, then headed down into the Metro. I tried 4 machines and non of them would take cash, all wanted CC’s, I spied a ticket booth on the next level down and headed for it when out of my peripheral vision I spied a cheese and sausage store that had bottles of wine on the shelves, I got a bottle of St. Emillion for 7 euro, sorted, got my Metro ticket and was in Gare Austerlitz with time to have a beer before boarding the train.
I had originally wanted to ride the TGV but it does not go to Cahors, so I had treated myself to First Class and was I glad I did. It was reminiscent of a by gone era of elegance, big comfortable seats, subdued décor and lighting, even a bottle holder by the seat, this was fabulous.
As the Paris suburbs slipped past I opened my first baguette and the first bite was sublime (I was ravenous, it had been over 8 hours since breakfast in London) but how do they do that with just a piece of bread, ham and cheese?
The service cart came by and was I glad I had brought food, even by French standards it looked pretty pathetic but he did have drip coffee which was superb.
After finishing off my second baguette and the last of the wine around 9pm the service cart came by for what he announced as the last time, it was getting to be dusk so I decided to order a cognac with my café, but he said he only had scotch, which he pointed out was written on the side of the cart, I was astounded, here we were hurtling through the heart of France, probably not too far from the Cognac district and the SNCF only serve scotch, I was flabbergasted, this would be tantamount to eating McDonald’s.
When we finally pulled into Cahors, my cousin’s husband Martin was waiting for me on the platform, I figured it would just be him but when I opened the door, the whole family, Bernadine (cousin) Ellen (god-daughter)9, sister Julie-Ann,5, and brother Tommy, almost 3, were all waiting for me, what a great surprise.
It was approx 20 min. drive to our house in St. Medard which they said I would not believer in the morning. They were right, WOW, when I woke up, I was in this incredible medieval hillside town overlooking a lush valley, the type of town you normally only see from the helicopter camera on the Tour de France, heaven.
Friday morning we lounged by the pool as the temperatures soared into the low 30’s Celsius, excellent. In the afternoon we all took a ride into Cahors to have a look and stock up on vittles.
After several wrong turns we finally found a supermarket and oh what a selection, I was in heaven, so many cheeses, foie gras, sausages, hams, local wine etc., I’m in the middle of no-where and the food is still spectacular. If this was America all I would have is a choice of, Winn Dixie or Food Town, bologna & Budweiser. Here a 5 litre jug of local wine is 7 Euros, approx $10, it’s spectacular.
Back at the house I opened a package of fromage wrapped in jamon soaked in oil, I popped 1 in my mouth and was in heaven, I dredged some bread in the oil and WOW, next I opened the foie gras and another WOW, I’m in heaven. Not only is this local “black” wine phenomenal, but this is the heart of the French foie gras production region, fat ducks every where!! I’ll be one soon!
That evening after an afternoon in the pool we barbied up some sausage and steaks, sat out and listened to the crickets symphony, such bliss and so simple, why do we try to complicate our lives so much.
Saturday dawned another beautiful clear blue sky day and I dove into the pool for an early morning swim after which Martin I drove to Catus for some bread from the boulangerie, we were expecting Caroline (Bernadine’s sister) hubby Dermot and kids Louise & Robert. Without coordinating any plans they were staying 60 cliks away in a holiday village and were coming to stay for the night. Louise & Robert are 15 & 13 so Bernadine’s kids look up to them like older siblings, taking the pressure of us to watch them every second, yahoo 
The theme did not change much when they arrived, leisurely lunch of foie gras, pate, fromage, sausage, bread and wine, then the afternoon around the pool, looking forward to the evening BBQ, tough life!!
Sunday started much the same way Saturday did, what a surprise! Good coffee, a swim then start talking about lunch, the talk up to lunch can be a great appetizer, like you need one in France.
After a casual lunch, followed by a swim, Caroline and gang left. The temp was back up to the mid 30’s so we decided to take a drive and get the kids some ice cream. I plotted out a circular route going west through the Lot valley past a Chateau with a “view” sign on the map. Well it turned out to be a spectacular view, the chateau was Chateau Fort de Bonaguil, an amazing castle in the Disney Cinderella style, but real, built in the 10th century and a massing point for Knights Templar heading to the holy land during the crusades.
We returned home for another low key BBQ and with every body exhausted we had an early night. Monday, Bernadine and the family were going to visit a friend of hers, Linda, who lives with her family in Toulouse, her husband is an engineer for Airbus. I had met her and her daughter on our Christmas trip to San Remo in 2007 so decided to give the trip a miss.
When I awoke at 10:30am on Monday, the Kelly’s had already left and I was left with a very quiet, empty house, exactly what I needed for a day to recharge my batteries. I made a pot of coffee and headed to the pool for an early swim.
After breakfast I went for a walk around the village and surrounding area to get a real feel for it. We had seen virtually no people over the weekend but today was Monday and in an hour I only saw 3 people, who very nervously said “bonjour”.
I returned to the house drenched in sweat and dove straight into the pool, 1pm and the temp was already 34 Celsius in the shade.
When I finally cooled off it was time to start preparing lunch, jeez, with everyone gone what would I have? I guess I’ll just have the usual, sausage, pate, foie gras, frommage, bread and wine, what a bitch and no TV, I guess I’ll have to look at the spectacular scenery and the bumble bees pollinating the lavender plants, oh well, twist my arm, I’ll give it a go.
Dozing in and out of naps while jumping into the pool to cool off, the afternoon passed quiet sublimely, I beginning to forget there was an outside world, actually I had totally forgotten about the outside world and was only wondering if they (Kelly’s) were having as good a time in Toulouse. It was now approaching Gin n Tonic time but unfortunetly we had polished it all off last night, so I would have to settle for a pastis, oh dear what a bummer, never mind.
We had steaks in the fridge but I really did not fancy firing up the barby to cook one steak so I thought there is no rule that says you cannot have lunch twice, easy choice.
Although I had my Zune (I pod) with me, loaded with movies and music I was not tempted to turn it on as nature was providing a fantastic natural symphony, crickets creaking and swallows swooping for drinks from the pool, it was still light until 10pm. The only sound from civilization was every 20 minutes or so when a car would go down the local road, ahhhh.
It was now 10:30pm and The Kelly’s had not returned, so I figured they must be staying over and I retired for the night. But no, I was wrong, an hour later I was awakened by a knocking at the window. The Kelly’s had returned and I had the key to the upstairs.
Tuesday morning we all took it very easy, they had a very tiring day traipsing around Toulouse and this afternoon we are going to the caves at Gouffre de Padirac followed by a visit to Rocamadour on the return leg.
It was a nice leisurely cross country drive to the caves, and when we arrived it appeared to be a very short queue to enter, but unfortunately the line hardly moved and we were left to bake in the 30+ degree (90+F) sun for almost an hour. Ironically 2 workmen were preparing a canopy to place over a frame for shade but that should have been done in the cool of the morning, to late now.
The cave is very impressive, the initial shaft is 75 meters (250 ft) deep and then there is another 25 meters drop inside the cave entrance to the river, which so far has been explored and surveyed over 20 kilometers (12 ½ miles). The tour starts with a 500 meter boat trip at the end of which you are taken on a guided tour through the grand salon, a giant cave that has been eroded out of the ground, the roof is 94 meters (308 ft) high and there are huge rimstone pools with amazing rock formations, it really is quiet spectacular and a very arduous trip, which they do not warn you about. After a couple of hundred yards through some very narrow passageways, the guide announces that there will be 150 winding steps up, which also means 150 winding steps down, not good when you have an artificial knee or are carrying a 3 year old, like Martin ended up doing with Thomas.
On the return boat trip they have a photo op set-up and the pictures are available when you disembark, actually they are very good.
The whole trip took 1 ½ hours so when we exited we were all famished and headed for a little restaurant for some late lunch before heading to Rocamadour, which is reportedly best viewed at dusk, but that will not happen until 10pm, a little late for the kids.
Rocamadour is only 20 klicks from the cave so we were there by 6pm and parked at the bottom of the cliff and got the little train up but unfortunately it only goes up as far as the main shopping street, I thought it would go all the way to the church at the top.
This is one of the most visited town’s in all of France, a combination of both pilgrims and tourists. For pilgrims, Rocamadour's importance lies with the Shrine of Our Lady of Rocamadour, a complex of religious structures centered on a miraculous statue of the Virgin Mary and the tomb of an ancient saint. The really zealous ones say a rosary as they ascend the steps on their knee’s, ouch.
We got home by 8:30pm and the kids were able to get a last swim in for the day, up until now Martin had been doing all the BBQ’ing so I decided to give it a go, not a good idea. The French charcoal was very light and the fire that I put down to cook 3 steaks died long before I thought it would, oh well, foie gras, jamon, sausage and cheese with bread for dinner, it’s such a tough life.
Wednesday dawned another cloudless beautiful day, it was our last and we were going to visit Caroline this afternoon but I had not seen Cahors yet and Martin graciously offered to drive me in as I was not insured to drive the rental vehicle.
It is a beautiful little city nestled in a loop of the Lot river that was held by the English during the Hundred Years War, the cathedral dates back 1112 and Pope John Paul XXII was born there in 1249, it’s got a bit of history.
We got back for a light lunch and headed for Caroline’s, they were staying in a holiday camp just northwest of Buges, it looked very simple on the map but thank gawd Dermot had put the coordinates in Martin’s GPS on Sunday, we would never have found it.
This place is perfect for families, 2, 3 & 4 bedroom cabins spread though the woods, a restaurant/market area, several playgrounds and a water park with 3 slides, 3 pools and a Jacuzzi, the kids had a great time, it was a perfect last day in the French countryside. As Dermot said, “the only thing missing are The Hogarty’s”, Bernadine and Caroline’s sister’s (Imelda) family.
Thursday morning and we were up at 5am, showered and on the road by 6, The Kelly’s dropped me off at the railroad station and head for the airport, that was the shortest week of my life.
Next stop Paris in just over 5 hours. The trip was very uneventful, good coffee and croissants, a 2 hour nap and I was almost there.
When I alighted at Gare Austerlitz it was baking hot, just like it had been in St. Medard, after lugging my bags up the 2 flights to the Metro I was drenched in sweat, I bought a 3 day 3 zone Paris Visite metro pass for 19.60 euro, this would allow me unlimited metro and bus trip anywhere within the city center for 3 days. (A lot of people on tripadviser.com had recommended a garnet of metro tickets (10) for a 3 day trip, but I used a lot more than 10 trips, even allowing for the transfers).I had to change trains @ Stalingrad for the #2 metro to Pigalle, thank god, like the Japanese, they have vending machines on the platforms,
At Pigalle I found my hotel, The Victor Masse on Rue Victor Masse with no problem thanks to Google street view, which is actually a bad thing, because it takes away some of the excitement of unexplored travel, but in this case it was a good thing as I needed a cold shower, pronto.
I had prepaid through hotels.com so just handed the clerk my confirmation and he handed me a key, done, no credit card, no passport required, this was the easiest check-in I had ever experienced, straight upstairs (elevator) and into the shower, aaaaah.
I was pretty knsckered from the trip and would have loved to lie down for a nap but my stomach thought my throat had been cut so it get changed and head back to Pigalle, which is smaller version of Times Square. Of course there was a baguette shop right on the corner so in I went, a classic jamon w/brie and a Kronenbourg, 7 euro, did someone say Paris is expensive?
Refreshed and sated I headed for the Sacre Coure in Montmartre which was only few minutes walk away, as I expected it was pretty mobbed with tourists and hawkers, had I known there was a train I would have saved my knee the ordeal of the massive steps, but such is life. The Basilica is absolutely beautiful, what an architectural wonder.
The carnival of street performers at the base of the steps was a little disconcerting seeing as this is consecrated ground but the amount of garbage strewn around, mostly glass/plastic bottles, soda/beer cans and food containers was really quiet disgusting, most of it I’m sure came from a vendor who had a kiosk just off to the side and seemed oblivious to the whole situation. I was thirsty but not about to contribute to this guys fortune, I wandered off in disgust.
Around the back of the Basilica where few tourists seemed to venture, I got the most amazing view of Montmartre, I had originally wanted to stay here but had found nothing that I considered quiet right, I had out rightly dismissed “Comfort Inn” but having seen it in person, it is now a candidate for the next trip (this was before I went to the Left Bank).
I wound my way down through the winding street of Montmartre and plonked myself down on a bench on Rue Caulaincourt and watched life go by.
After a rest I walked up to Lemark-Caulaincourt metro and caught the 12 line to Notre-Dame de Lorette, another fantastic Parisian cathedral, the fresco’s on the ceiling are worthy of Leonardo da Vinci, I then got the metro onward to Concorde for a look at The Champs Elysees, I was immediately struck by the square cut of the trees, such detail, but the Arc was a long way off, so I went back downstairs and took the #1 metro to Charles de Gaulle Etolle, WOW I was blown away by the size of the Arc de Triomphe, there is a replica one in Washington Square Park in New York but it is truly miniscule compared to the real thing, I had no idea it was so big, truly impressive.
It was about 5pm and still baking hot, another cold shower beckoned and then out for dinner, it was a very easy trip back to Pigalle on the #2 metro.
Showered and changed, I’m ready to go again by 6pm, I want to have dinner at L’Entrecote by St. Germain, the easiest way was the #2 metro from Pigalle to Rue du Bac and catch a bus along the Blvd. St. Germain.
I was there by 6:30pm, but they were still only setting up, I was starving, but went for a stroll in search of a café for a cold beer. I came across a suitable looking place on the corner of Blvd. St. Michel and had a couple of Kronenbourg’s while watching the world go by, one of the great pleasures of Paris.
After a couple of beers I circled back around to L’Entrecote and it was 80% full, luckily I was able to get a single table outside, it was exactly how I expected it, the waitress merely asked, rare or medium rare, I chose rare with a half bottle of Haut Medoc. Not only was the beef excellent but the frites were also amazing, with coffee and assorted cheeses I was out the door for 50 euro, very reasonable, especially as it’s Paris.
L’Entrecote gets quick a bit of stick on tripadvisor.com from what I presume are so called French foodies, bah humbug, this beef was excellent, the special sauce superb and the frites the best I have ever tasted. Some people seem to think that if you open more than one location you are watering down the product and or making it to accessible which takes away from their exclusitivity, bloody snobs if you ask me.
It had been a very long day since 5am when I got up in St. Medard, so I decided to head back towards Pigalle and have a nightcap in the little bar by the hotel, Pub Frochot, the only non vice bar in the neighbourhood, a quick cognac and I was tucked in by 11pm, what a great first day in Paris, I could not wait for the morning, I was like a child on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa.
Well I must have been tired, I had planned being up and at Notre Dame by 9am, but I only awoke then, it’s rare that I sleep 10 hours straight but sometimes your body just says, enough.
Up and showered I was at Pigalle by 9:30, caught the #2 metro two stops and changed to the #5 to Chatalet /Les Halles. It was another glorious day, not a cloud in the sky and already 70 dergees (19C). I was surprised by Chatelet, I had no idea it was a medevil fortress to protect the Île de la Cité. Also I was very surprised at the size of the towers of Notre Dame, I had expected them to tower over the area but they were actually hard to pick out against the skyline.
I walked over the Pont au Change, past the Palais de Justice, made a left on Rue de Lutece and then a right on Rue de la Cite (funny these are all good French restaurants in New York) and there, finally, in front of me was, Notre Dame, WOW. The Bells master, the Bells.
Upon entering the cathedral, I could not believe they allowed photography, everybody was clicking away, so I joined in and took some great shots of the alters and windows, it really is a magnificent building, I spent 2 hours looking around the place, totally captivated.
Time for lunch as I had skipped breakfast, so I strolled across Petit Pont and down beside St. Vernan church, there were a lot of places offering various 2 & 3 course set lunches and 1 in particular grabbed my attention, escargot appetizer and confit du canard (duck) for 16 euro. I was looking for a café that a friend had recommended, La Palette, on Rue de Seine, but I somehow missed it and ended up back near St. Vernan so I opted for the escargot and canard, they were both delicious with a small carafe of red wine.
Sated, I headed back over the Petit Pont, I had seen a post office earlier and had written some postcards over lunch which I needed stamps for. I then hopped on a bus along the rue de Rivoli to the Louvre, basically all I had seen was the glass pyramid in pictures, the vastness of all the buildings was overwhelming. It was almost 3pm, although it is open till 10pm on Friday’s I did not have ½ a day to spend in there, tomorrow was my last day and there was still so much to see.
From the Louvre I jumped on another bus up to the Opera house, another fantastic building, I could only imagine what it must be like inside and I’m sure the acoustics must be great.
It was now nearing 5pm and time for a beer and a cold shower so time to head for the hotel, I caught a train at Opera and changed at Saint Lazare to Pigalle. A quick cold Kronenbourg at my new local on the corner, a cold shower and I was ready to go again just after 6pm.
My friend, Loic in New York, who is French and had lived in Paris many many moons ago, had given me list of restaurants and La Coupole in Montparnasse, he described as one of the most famous brassieres in Paris and was across the street from Le Select, one of Hemingway’s haunts.
So I headed for Montparnasse, I could be on a double winner here, walking up the street I spied La Coupole on the opposite side but as got closer the wind was taken out of my sails, in front of the name in neon script was “Americana Café”, and it was virtually deserted, no way Jose. I crossed back over the street and sure enough there was Le Select, it had been selected by everyone, there was not an empty chair in the house. There were several more cafes on the block but all less than 50% full, obviously it was Le Select or nothing, so I chose nothing.
There was a bus stop just down the street and I stopped to check where one of them would take me and was surprised to see a route right across the city to Montmartre, perfect, it would be a long but entertaining and educational ride.
Forty minutes later I was in the northern section of Montmartre and disembarked to explore the neighbourhood., I was on the Rue Ordener and knew if I walked up hill I would be headed to Sacre Cour, a couple of blocks up I came to Rue Caulaincourt and made a right. There were cafes everywhere but nothing felt just right until I came to a small place called Café de la Butte, all the outside tables were full but there was plenty of space inside. I did not even look at what people were eating or the menu, it just felt right.
I sat at a small table, there were just 2 girls running the place, 1 waitressing the other making drinks, I ordered a Kronenbourg and perused the menu, I don’t read or speak French but having worked in restaurants for years I know what most foods are but there was 1 special entrée I had no clue what it was, I asked and the waitress, pointing to her midsection and said, veal kidney’s, oh yes, bring it on with more escargot to start and a small carafe of red. The escargot were excellent and the house red the best I had tasted so far in Paris, but the kidney’s were mind blowing. They came with rice and I almost asked frites, but I had a basket of crusty bread in from of me and dipped a piece into the red wine sauce, I was in heaven and the kidney’s just melted in my mouth, WOW, what a find, my instincts were so right, they rarely let me down.
This was the type of meal you don’t want to finish but finish it must, I rounded it off with a cognac & café and headed off into the night vowing to return one day.
Just down the block was a bus stop and I caught a bus down to Blvd. de Clichy to check out The Moulin Rouge, Friday night and it was wall to wall people lining up to pay exorbitant prices for a glass of bubbly and a titillating stage show, not my cup of tea, I had just left Nirvana.
It was now just after 10pm and fully dark, so I decided to make a quick dash back to the Eiffel Tower, to see the light show. The nearest metro station is shown as Bir-Hakeim, which I thought rather weird, it sounds like a terrorist name, but I researched it, and it turns out to be a famous battle site in Libya during WWII, where the French army bought time against the Germans, allowing Monty and the British army to win a crucial battle at El Alamein, which in turn changed the results of the war in North Africa in the Allies favour.
The Eiffel Tower looks spectacular at night all lit up, from standing directly under it and then walking backwards over the Pont d’Lena up to the Trocadero, it just keeps getting better.
It was now after midnight and time to think about getting back to the hotel before the metro closed down, luckily it was just 2 trains from the Trocadero to Pigalle, changing at Charles de Gaulle.
A nightcap at my new local and I was tucked up by 1am. I went to sleep thinking “God I love Paris, those kidney’s were out of this world”.
I guess I really walked a lot on Friday, I was in bed by 1am but did not wake-up till 10am, I had wanted to be out by 9, but better late than never. After last nights ezperience at the Eiffel Tower I could not wait to see it in daylight so I caught the metro to Trocadero.
It was far more crowded than it had been last night and the lines to get up to the first level were huge, there was no way I was going to stand in that and it was annoying the way there were so many young men pushing miniature models of the tower in your face, I took some pictures and walked over to the bus stop on the Pont d’Lena, the #82 went to Luxembourg gardens which would stet me up for lunch at La Paletta in St. Germain.
This seemed like a real good plan until I saw the Eglise Dome of the Musee de L’Armee, I immediately jumped off the bus and was in awe of the structure, this is the home of Napoleon’s tomb. There was a café right there so I sat down had a café and reflected on this amazing building.
I was going to wait for another bus and continue to the Luxembourg Gdns. but the sun was beating down and there was no shade so I walked in the direction the bus was going where there was shade and came across St. Francis Xavier, not only another magnificent church but also a metro station, looking at the map I could not be bothered taking 3 trains to get to Luxembourg to I headed back across the river and got off at Champs Elysees Clemenceau beside the Grand and Petit Palais, more awesome buildings and a fantastic view across Pont Alexander III down to Les Invalides, this must be some sceptical when it is all lit up at night. Now I know why they call Paris the “City of Lights”.
I caught the #72 bus along the right bank of the Seine, past the Louvre to the Pont Des Arts where I alighted, walked across the bridge and down Rue de Seine to La Palette for lunch. I started with a large Kronenbourg and some moules then surprised the waiter by ordering the plat du jour, which was boeuf tar tar with a glass of rouge. It was a little annoying that they did not have a house wine by the carafe, only glasses from well known regions, which were expensive.
As I said, that was a little annoying, what was really annoying was the middle aged well dressed woman who sat down at the next table whom I assumed was French as she quizzed the waiter about the menu but I was wrong. She received a beer first then her food, a frankfurter with frites and she requested ketchup, I was most surprised, but then the real insult happened, her cell phone rang, she answered with an American accent and proceeded to have a trans-Atlantic conversation while eating, how uncivilized and what must the person on the other end thought of all the chomping, disgusting, no wonder the French hate American’s and which is why I was using my best British.
The food and wine had been delightful but the experience was less memorable.
I started walking around some of the smaller streets of St. Germain/Latin Quarter and came across a restaurant “Le Procope” that claimed to be the oldest in Paris, ( it was later confirmed as the oldest Parisian café in a PBS documentary, founded in 1686. Procope was actually Sicilian),I looked inside and it was a very nice old world dining room and the menu looked very good, the Brochette Boeuf was highlighted and that was what I wanted for my last supper. I would return.
Out on the Blvd. St. Germain I caught a bus towards The Bastille, I knew there was nothing left of the old prison but it is known as a very bohemian district, I walked around and found nothing exceptional about it, except for the Spirit of Liberty atop the Bastile monument. I hopped on another bus up to Place de la Republique, I had came very close to booking a hotel here and wanted to see if I had been wrong to change to Pigalle. Although it was quiet picturesque with the canal and locks there was a decided lack of decent looking cafes and restaurants so I think I made the right choice.
As the Gare de Nord was on the way back to my hotel I decided to check out the RER for tomorrow morning’s trip to CDG, it was all straight forward, I then went outside and got a bus to Pigalle, this would be the same bus I would get in the morning.
It had been a long day and I knew where I was having dinner so I stopped into my local for a couple of cold Kronenbourgs, there were four English lads at the bar who had just arrived on the Eurostar, I gave them a few pointers, but I think they were there more for the red-lights than the historical ones.
As previously I caught the 12 metro from Pigalle to Rue de Bac and then the bus to St. Germain getting around was now becoming very second nature.
I found Le Procope with no problem but it was a little early for dinner, there was a very lively bar/restaurant next door so I thought I would try it for a gin & tonic.
I walked in, ordered a G&T and noticed the guy sitting next to me was a waiter, (black shirt n’ pants, dead give away), hearing my English accent he turned and asked if I was enjoying my stay in Paris, in very guttural French, almost condescending, but there was a word in his question which did not sound right. I was possessing it and trying to say I was having a blast when it hit me, he was a Californian. I proffered this idea to him and he admitted, he was from San Diego, his father German and mother French, they had emigrated to California, but after leaving high school, he had always wanted to live in France, he had now been here 10 years and was considered a great waiter, attitude included.
After my couple of aperitifs I went next door to Le Procope, I got a table for one next to a couple who were very chatty, she was from the Czech Republic and he was from Norway, it seemed like a very strange arrangement, but who am I to judge, we got talking about travel and next thing you know she is inviting me to Czech Rep., I would have lot of fun!! I’m sure I would, if my bank balance was as high as she thought.
A few minutes later their seafood main course arrived and it was spectacular, a huge silver platter set on a stand above their plates, there were lobsters, crabs, shrimp, mussels, calamari, various filets, just a superb smorgasbord of seafood, it reminded me of a similar feast I had shared with my friend, Steve Whittle in Watson’s Bay, Australia.
My escargot followed by Brochette Boeuf looked rather miniscule compared to the feast on the next table. We said our goodbyes over café and I wandered off into the Parisian night. It was now close to 10pm and I had to be up by 6am so I walked up through The Latin Quarter towards the river and found a fantastic open air party happening on the Mitterand footbridge, young people had spread blankets out all over the bridge and were having picnics, there were musicians playing and it was a very joyous situation, I was so envious that I had to leave.
I caught the metro back to Pigalle and had a final nightcap at my new corner local.
Au Revoir Paris, I shall return.

Japan 2008

2008-07-23T00:56:00.000-07:00

JAPAN 2008
This was my third trip to the land of the rising sun and people ask why I keep going back? Simple, they still hold true all the values that I grew up with as a kid that have disappeared from western decivilization.
There is virtually no crime, people are courteous to each other, it’s immaculately clean and I think what best represents their society, kids can still go to school in their uniforms on the subway and buses, unescorted, as young as 6/7 years old, just like I did in London light years ago.
Oh yeah, and by the way the women are beautiful and the food is exquisite.

I had booked this trip in Sept. 2007 and I was originally going to travel on to Beijing after Tokyo and return via Shanghai but when the Chinese Government decided to change all the visa rules and up the fees before the Olympics, I decided I would rather spend the whole 2 weeks in Japan, besides how could I go to Japan and not visit Osaka.
My original business class routing was out to Tokyo on a nonstop JAL flight but return was only on JAL to San Francisco and then American to JFK. I had tried in vain for months to get the JAL nonstop return but it was always sold out. Imagine my surprise when I called to cancel the Chinese legs and was told the nonstop return was available and all for the same $100 change fee, I was ecstatic, there is a god.
Friday May 23, and I arose at 3am, all week I had been getting up earlier to adjust for the jet-lag. My flight was not until 1:30pm so I went for a 5 mile walk to limber up my legs for the long flight. Before heading for JFK I had the traditional New York breakfast, everything bagel, lox & cream cheese. After checking in I enter the JAL Sakura lounge, this is why I love to use my domestic frequent flyer miles on foreign carriers, the experience starts at JFK. Unfortunately since the last time I was here they have taken out the automated beer machines, they were so cool, hopefully they still have them at Narita for the return leg.
The flight was uneventful, I ate some excellent Japanese food all the way and drank good French wine with a few sakes thrown in for good measure. The beef curry snack is a great offering an hour before landing, gets you through customs/immigration and into Tokyo.The guy next to me slept most of the way, just waking for meals. The Japanese seem to have remarkable knack for doing this, I’ve watched them on the trains, one moment sound asleep, the train pulls into their stop, eyes open, get up and get off.

Saturday, we arrive at Narita early, 4pm, but a 40 min. immigration line negated the early arrival. After getting through I came out to find the Citibank machine was not working, I used 7 Bank and they only charged Y210 ($2) fee for Y50,000 ($470) withdrawal.
I went downstairs to the JR rail office to exchange my Japan railpass voucher and get a Suica card which gets you a discount Narita Express ticket to all Tokyo stations for Y1500, normally the one way fare to Shinjuku is Y3150. The Suica card cost Y3500 which includes the Narita Exp. and Y1500 credit on the card, the card can be used for travel on all Tokyo JR train, subways and buses, it can also be used in most convenience stores. There were no seats on the next train so I would have to wait until 6pm, it was now only 10 past 5 so time for a beer. Surprisingly compared with the rest of the country, where there are vending machines all over the place selling beer it was hard to find a beer outside security at the airport. I finally found a little food stand that served draft Sapporo for Y500, I felt a little guilty giving the guy a Y10,000 note, but he did not bat an eyelid, could you imagine the reaction at La Guardia or JFK, $100 bill for a $5 beer. At this rate I would not make Shinjuku until 7 30pm, will miss happy hour at The Hub but early for Mothers.
On the train I met an interesting man who worked for Epsom printers and was returning from Sydney, he was amazed that someone born in England, schooled in Ireland and living in Greenwich Village, New York, would find Japanese culture and society enjoyable. When we arrived at Shinjuku, I was done but he still had a 3 hour local train ride to Matsumoto, a long distance salary man!
God it felt good to walk out of Shinjuku station into the madness of the Tokyo Saturday night, it was electric, all the neon and flashing video screens, thousands of people, brilliant. Lugging a bag I took the slightly longer route around by the Prince Hotel to my hotel, The Vintage, rather than fight my way through Ichi-Ban-Dori (known locally as Piss Alley). Upon checking in, I dropped my bag and made a beeline to the Irish pub just down the street (The Angel) for a pint and small portion of fish n chips, they don’t just eat raw fish, they are bloody good at cooking it too. I wanted to know if they would have the Monaco GP on Sunday but they had no clue what I was on about, they were showing a replay of Manchester United v Wigan, it’s a Utd. pub. I had a second beer then took a stroll around the neighbourhood, it almost felt like coming home, fantastic. It was now around 10pm, I was starting to feel a bit knackered so I headed for Mothers, a few nightcap beers and some heavy metal, I even had a laugh with some of the African pimps outside.

Sunday I woke-up early and it was drizzling, had been raining all week, stories on news showed floods in some places. Everything was still closed so I decided to take a train ride on the Yamanote line going nowhere in particular, but then figured, why not look up The Oak Inn where I’m staying later in the week. I had not brought the directions with me but I found it no problem, but then the skies grew darker and I headed back to Ueno Station, just as I got onto the platform it started to really come down, I got soaked from the station back to the hotel.
After a shower and change the rain had let-up so it was off to the Shinjuku Gardens which I had missed on my 2 previous visits, beautiful but not as nice as the ones in Kyoto.
It was now past 1 pm and time to head for the fashion parade in Harajuku followed by The Menji shrine with a doner kebab for lunch thrown in the middle. I had seen some of these girls around Harajuku on previous visits in their bizarre fashions but Sunday is the Full Monty, they go all out to be outrageous and shock the average Joe in the street, great stuff. I just walked around with my camera on film mode.
At the Menji Temple I made my usual request for Spurs to do well this season and beat Chelsea, there was a wedding going on which caught my attention, I started to film the bridesmaids when I realized this was just like Bruno & Leslie’s wedding but in reverse. When they had exited Grace Church on Broadway back in 1992 there was an open top double decker bus stuck in traffic and all the Japanese tourists started filming the wedding, funny how things come around.
The doner kebab shop is an authentic Turkish one run by Turks and I later found out they have quiet a few of them dotted around the city.
Returning to Shinjuku I had a few G’nT’s at the Hub Pub then went for dinner at the spinning sushi restaurant opposite the Prince Hotel, I love the eel. I could not find anyplace showing the F1 but someone on Speed.Com forums had said it was on regular TV, delayed @ 10:30pm, so I went back to the hotel with a couple of tins. I never found it and fell asleep.

Monday I got a combo rail ticket and onsen pass to Hakon on the Odakyu railway romance car with free shuttle pick up from station, this was something I’ve wanted to do for years. It was fantastic, the water was about 120 degrees, not to hot, some go as high as 130 plus. It had both in and out door pools, total bliss.
After a couple of hours I looked like a cooked lobster, I wonder if they feel his good when getting cooked?
I then took the Hakon Tozen switchback railway up through the mountains to Gora where I thought I would have lunch, but there was nothing there. There was one decent looking/smelling restaurant but they had a big sign saying “members only”? This was a one horse town, I could not even find a sandwich, which are normally available everywhere so I caught the next train back down and return on the romance car to Shinjuku.
I just made it for happy hour @ The Hub {gin n tonic Y260} followed by lots of eel @ the spinning sushi bar, caught a buzz and was fed all for less than Y2000 ($18), pretty good for anywhere, but great for Tokyo.
It was only 8pm but I was knackered, the onsen had really taken it out of me so grabbed a couple of tins and headed for the hotel, besides tomorrow was an early start for the fish market, I had planned on Wednesday but it was closed.
Tuesday I got up at 6am and headed for the Tsukiji fish market, best sushi I have ever had @ 7am for breakfast, melt in the mouth good. The place next door had a line of tourists because it did a special for Y3500, my place was all Japanese and ala carte, cost me Y4600 {4 eel, 2 salmon, 2 tuna, 1 abalone & 1 sea urchin} I was stuffed.
The market is a hive of activity and you will get mown down if you are not careful, could not actually get into where they have the auctions but this was someplace I have always wanted to visit, might have to do this followed by the onsen again next week when I return from Osaka.
The market sells more than just fish, virtually everything you can think of and then some, but T shirts I had seen in Harajuku were more expensive here, good excuse to go back, like I need one!
It was moving day so I had to get back to Shinjuku to check out. I left my bags with the hotel and went I search of the Japanese sword museum which is in Yoyogi, via the west side of Shinjuku which I had never visited.
The area is all modern high rise buildings which are either government offices or high end chain hotels like Hilton Marriott etc., not normally someplace that would interest me, but there is supposedly a nice central park and temple which I wanted to explore.
I was very surprised when I got to the entrance to the park and found a lot of homeless men, but what was even more surprising, was that they have erected a small shanty town right in the middle of the park, very unjapanese.The park was very shabby and the temple very ordinary.
I walked down through the back street to Yoyogi, but I could not find the sword museum, so I hopped on a bus to Shibuya. My first time on a bus in Tokyo and it is much better than taking the trains for seeing day to day goings on.
It was a very hot day so when I got off the bus I went into the Tokyu department store to cool off and check out the foodhall, it was incredible, but I was still full from the sushi and decided to walk it off by walking the one stop back to Harajuku, it was akin to walking up Madison Avenue, a lot of high end retail outlets.
Harajuku is a very different place on weekdays, a lot quieter, after my 30 minute walk from Shibuya in eighty plus degrees I was gasping for a beer and I had not seen any bars here, so I nipped into the kebab shop. The place was empty and I got chatting to the counter guy, he was from Istanbul, originally a Beshiktas fan but now a Juventus fan as he had lived in Turin for 20 years before moving to Japan where he has now been for 10 years. He had married a Japanese woman and she bankrolled a restaurant in Nagano but when they got divorced she pulled the plug and he is happy now working the counter with no responsibilities.
When I left the kebab shop I strolled up fashion alley, it is truly one of the most fascinating streets in the world, like Carnaby Street, London, back in the sixties.
Out of the 7-11 in front of me came a guy in full samurai costume carrying his bagged lunch, only a few people gave him a second look so I assumed he worked in one of the stores, I sped up my pace to catch him and get a photo when I noticed he had a full policeman’s utility belt, gun, handcuffs, ammo clips etc. A couple teenage boys stopped him for a photo so I got one also.
I rode the Yamanote line 2 stops back up to Shinjuka to pick up my bag, as I walked back to the Vintage I noticed a new bar “St. James” and unusual for Japan it was open at 2:30pm, perfect, it was boiling hot and time for a cold one.
I got around to the Oak Hotel by 4pm and checked in, a slightly larger room than the Vintage but no electronic Japanese toilet, a big disappointment and no fridge, bummer. I took a wonder around my new neighbourhood, Asakusa, there were a lot of home shrine stores for ashes which I thought strange, but then I came upon a crematorium and it made sense. Later I wanted to catch the end of happy hour at The Ueno Hub and stay on for the Japan vs Paraguay game at 7:15pm.
I was amazed when I walked into The Hub, the place was empty but virtually all the tables had reserved signs on them, there was one deuce hightop left with decent sightlines to the big screen, so I grabbed it and order the proverbial G’nT.
Ten past seven and the placed filled up and everyone was wearing Japan shirts. I had only looked at the J League fixtures before departing, had I seen this on the schedule I could have gone as it was only up the road in Saitama, which is virtually a suburb of Tokyo. When the broadcast came on I could see the stadium which seats around 70,000 was less than half full, but once the game started I was glad I had not gone, it was crap, Japan used to have a decent team when they had a Brazilian coach, now they were running around like headless chickens, the Paraguayans were not much better, 0-0.
Wednesday and I finally get a morning to lye in, nothing that can’t wait, I’m going to visit the Senso-Ji temple on the other side of Asakusa. Inaricho Stn. on the Ginza subway line is right around the corner from The Oak so I hopped it the 2 stops to the end of the line Asakusa Stn. which is right beside the Sumida River. I got an egg n tomato sarny with some green tea and sat down by the river for breakfast.
Upon rounding the corner to the temple I was amazed at what confronted me, to my right was the temple with the huge lantern hanging in the arch at the entrance and too my left was a market of hundreds of food and souvenir stands packed with thousands of people, most of whom were school kids. It was an incredible sight, I had been expecting a place like the Menji shrine where everyone was very reverent and polite, this was a zoo. About 70% of the stalls were selling confectionary and deserts, it’s amazing the Japanese penchant for sweet things, yet everyone is so thin!!
After a quick shufty around the temple I decided to walk back to The Oak via the back streets, I pasted some great little restaurants and was very tempted but it was not long since breakfast and I was thinking about having lunch in a Ginza dept. store restaurant.
It was another very hot day and after a forty minute walk I was very glad to see The Oak, have a shower and change, twenty minute turnaround and I was back down in the air conditioned subway. What a difference from NY, in Tokyo you find reasons to go on the subway on a hot day.
The Ginza was worse than I had expected, Gucci, Chanel, Cartier, Dior etc., it was actually worse than Fifth Ave. in the 50’s but still full of the same tourists, I headed towards the Imperial Palace but still needed to find lunch. I came upon the Shinkansen lines and realized this was where Steve, Dave and myself had found ourselves lost 3years ago beside Yurakucho Stn. which had a thriving lunch business going on underneath it’s arches. After surveying all the fare on offer I finally settled on curry and had a great pork curry with a beer for Y1800 ($17).
Well sated I headed for The Palace, although I had been here 3 years ago and found it very dull we had completely missed the gardens, but first I sat down to write some postcards and just watch the swans on the moat.
The gardens were absolutely stunning and the smell totally overwhelming, it was a kaleidoscope of colours, truly worthy of being The Imperial Palace gardens.
Happy hour was now beckoning and I had read about a beer aficionado’s heaven in The New York Times travel section back in October 2007, called Popeye’s, which was located just the other side of the Sumida River in Ryougoku. Actually it was not far from The Oak but would require either 2 subways or 2 JR’s,
I got there just after they opened and could tell right away this was my kind of place, I took a seat at the bar and was blown away by the variety of beer in front of me, their web address is www.fortybeersontap.com but now they have 70, WOW!
I started with a half pint of Baird Special Dark Wheat, recommended by the bartender, a seasonal special, only available this week, it was excellent, rich, full & citrus. I had been a bit apprehensive about Japanese microbrews but I could not wait to taste more Baird’s, next I had their Rising Sun pale ale, good and very hoppy, time to step it up, next I tried the gravity cask Preston pale ale which reminded me of Fullers bitter and then the hand pump Yona Yona pale ale, my favourite of the night, like London Pride. Oh yes, I was in heaven.

Happy hour consisted of half portions off a limited menu with certain beers, the mixed sausages were a bit strange but the fried chicken was good, I looked at the regular menu and had to try mini mutton steaks wrapped in bacon, unique and tasty.
Thursday morning and it a misty rain was falling over Tokyo, it was the first day of my Japan rail pass and I wanted to head up north into the mountains around Nikko and hopefully find an onsen and some better weather.
I caught a Max Toki tri-level Shinkansen from Ueno to Takasaki and then transferred to a local train for a 1 1/2 hour trip up into the mountains, but the rain was getting heavier and heavier, by the time I got to Naganohara-Kusatsu-guchi Station I was in the middle of a monsoon. There were onsens near the station according to the map but when I went outside they were the other side of a huge gorge, I would get drowned. Then I spotted a bus mark Kusatsu-onsen so I hoped on and hoped for the best.
After about 40 minutes we wound up in a small town above the clouds, some of these onsen towns have public baths right in the middle of town as well as resort hotels around the outskirts. It was of course lashing down just as bad, but I plunged out with my trusty little telescopic umbrella in search of the elusive onsen. After ½ an hour I wound up back at the bus depot, defeated, my bus was just getting ready to return to the train station so I grabbed a kit-kat and green tea for the journey, wow, it was apple flavoured kit-kat, fantastic. The driver just looked at me and shook his head, he must have thought I was a total lunatic, mind you he was not far off but, hey, I was on an adventure.
There was about a 40 minute wait for the next train but there was absolutely nothing around this station except a little dumpling stand and a coffee stand run by an Elvis impersonator, the little shop in the station was closed. I was starving so dumplings it was, she had 3 varieties so I got one of each hoping that one of them would have meat, but I was wrong, they were all variations of seaweed/kelp. I ate the dough and threw the most of the contents away.
Looking down the gorge in this pristine mountain setting and there was a huge construction site, they were building these huge concrete pylons, probably a highway to get the tourists up here quicker, I was glad that I had beaten the hoards here.
Ten minutes before the trains arrival the little shop opened, boy was I glad when I saw she had beer, a couple of tall Sapporo’s would help me down the mountain.
Back in Takasaki I had a twenty minute wait for a Asama shinkansen to Tokyo so I took a wander out of the station, you never know you might see something worth missing the train for but I needn’t have bothered, there was nothing but smoke stacks in every direction, a very industrial town.
The Asama got me into Tokyo just before the start of rush hour, I had no plans because I did not expect to be back this early, so I had to do some quick thinking and came up with going to the Footnik bar in Ebisu, which is about a 20 minute ride on the Yamanote Line.
I got there just as they were opening and was delighted to find they had Yona Yona on draft, it was very quiet with just a few bizmen playing on their laptops and a replay of the Man. Utd. vs Barcelona champions league semi final on the telly, which I watched to while away an hour and avoid the worst of rush hour, could be worse, no Yona Yona!!
There is another decent bar in Ebisu that Steve and had visited on previous occasions but I was not sure exactly where it was and did not fancy traipsing around in the rain, so I jumped on a train one stop to Shibuya to visit The Aldgate, but first a little curry at a cheap Indian place we had found on the last trip.
When I finally got to The Aldgate I was delighted to find they also had Yona Yona and a few of the Baird brews on tap. I got chatting to the barman who was from Killiney, Dublin, he was very surprised that I knew where it was. I explained that I had lived and gone to school in Dublin and had just been there 2 weeks previous and that tomorrow I was headed to Osaka to meet a fellow Dublin southsider who ran a pub there.
Then 2 American lads wandered in, 1 from Iowa and 1 from Missouri and we got talking, they were on an Asian adventure and staying in Japan for a while to pick up some cash, teaching English! It seems everyone does it, the barman had also said he taught a couple of days a week.
It was now about 10pm and time to make tracks back to Ueno as I had an early start in the morning to Kyoto.
Friday, May 30, 2008, I had been worried about getting to Tokyo station during the rush hour from Ueno when it struck me, take the Shinkansen 1 stop from Ueno to Tokyo, which I did, to catch the 9:03 Hikari Superexpress Shinkansen to Kyoto.
With the Japan rail pass you are not allowed to ride the Nozomi expresses which are slightly faster than the Hikari’s so I was surprised and delighted when a Nozomi pulled into my platform and changed the signs to Hikari for the southbound journey, these were the new 700 series cars I had read about and the seats were a lot more comfy.
The weather was overcast and dull as we left Tokyo but brightened as we headed south and by the time we got to Kyoto it was nice day.
Two stops on the Karasuma Line subway, 5 minute walk and my hotel was right where I thought it would be. I dropped my bag off and headed for the Arashiyama area west of the city which has a high density of temples/shrines and is one of the most visited places in Japan. Amazingly 18 months ago when Steve and I got lost using a small private tramway, it was now the same tram that was only a few blocks from my hotel and would take me to Arashiyama,
After a nice serene 20 min. tram ride I disembarked into a street full of crazed teenagers, some in school uniform others like they were going to the prom, total bedlam. If this what it’s like on Friday, what’s it like on the weekend? The whole street was souvenir and sweet shops, good thing I found a small stand doing teriyaki fried pork on a stick with deep fried croquets Y200, I had 1 of each and meandered down the street and over the bridge away from the maddening crowds.
There was not much over the river except an intriguing sign pointing along the river saying “good view”, I bit, it had to be better than the rollicking kids. I kept looking at the buildings across the river waiting for the view to improve but it did not look hopeful when I started to hear the sound of falling water, which is like a magnet for me. Another 15 feet and there was his little triple waterfall, falling about 70 feet off the mountain, beautiful, total silence except for the water, I made a little movie which I will watch over and over.
Last month a journalist wrote a story in The New York Times about Kyoto, entitled “Serenity on $200 a day” he obviously missed this spot.
I walked back through the village and grabbed another stick of pork and a croquet on my way to the Tenryu-ji Temple which is a world heritage site and rightly so, it’s an amazing place. The best gardens I have seen yet.
Back at the tram station I walked to the end of the platform to take a photo of the train and there was a little hot spring foot bath for the weary traveler so I whipped off my sneakers and stepped in, it was glorious, what civility.
The Court Hotel was the largest room I have had in Japan, 2 full size beds, nicely furnished, most importantly an electronic toilet and because it was a corner room, huge glass windows on 2 sides. All this for only Y5750 ($54) pity I could only get it for 1 night, every budget hotel in Kyoto was sold out for Saturday and Sunday nights.
In the article he also mention a few places he had ate and drank in, one of which had a picture, a bar called Majorica, with the owner in the shot, so I brought a copy of it with me figuring, if nothing else it would get me in.
I got there around 8pm and he was just opening, he was uneasy about letting me in until I trust the article into his hands, his face lit up like a Christmas tree, he could not believe it, he was beside himself and I felt this tremendous feeling of well being that I had brought someone this much joy, as Vinnie would say, “it was emotional”. Although the joint was empty I bought a gin n tonic and he gave me a bottle of sake as a thank you, we could not stop bowing to each other until I backed him up to the door and we shook hands, a moment I will always remember.
Down the street I had spotted a funky looking place that had the specials in English outside, so I popped in, as I did, I noticed the name, ZuZu, it had also been mentioned in the Kyoto article. The salmon sashimi was delicious but the fish and cheese spring rolls with sea urchin sauce were out of this world, this is why we travel.
Downtown Kyoto is amazing, all the sidewalks are covered, at first I thought it was just one department store but then realized they were all covered, how convenient.
The street where Majorica is located is known as the Pontocho area, restaurants and bars as opposed to the redlight area across the river known as Gion, famed since ancient times for its geishas, now just hostess bars and hookers.
There were several little street bands playing in various places around town and they all seemed to be playing traditional Irish music, with a violin (fiddle) accordion, flute and Bodhrán (drum), they were quiet good.
Satuday morning and checkout was an early 10am, I checked out at 9 and asked them to keep my bag for awhile. Nijo Castle is nearby so I walked the 1km only to find the parking lot was already packed with tour buses and 60% were school kids. I walked up past the main gate hoping to get a picture of the main tower but there was nothing visible, as I turned to leave some of the buses were already reboarding their passengers! It was 20 to 10 and the castle only opened @ 9am, there can’t be much to see!
It had started out overcast but it was now starting to rain so off down the subway I went, next stop Keage station which is closest to the start of the “Path of Philosophy, a 1km walk past several shrines/temples but after 1 minor stop at some shogun’s mausoleum I came upon The Nanzen-ji Temple complex which was not listed as a biggie on my map, but it was phenomenal, the gardens were beautiful and because it was pouring rain it enhanced the colours and lushness, also the rain kept most people away and I was able to enjoy the serenity.
Back in the early eighties I used to build Japanese gardens in the New York tri-state area for a Japanese guy called Hal Anuji, it turned out I was a natural at building free form stone walls, waterfalls and ponds. Hal would show me his hand drawn sketch and I could bring it to life, now I was seeing where he had received his inspiration, it was awesome.
It was now around noon, I was starting to feel peckish and the die hard tourists with ponchos were starting to show up so it was time for me to say Sayonara.
It starting to rain harder and I could not book into my Osaka hotel until 3pm so I had a great idea, get a box lunch and eat on the train! I grabbed my bag from the hotel and arrived at Shin Kyoto only to find approx 500 school kids sitting on the floor of the terminal, totally blocking the whole place so I just went up to the platform and caught the first train to Shin-Osaka. Amazing, mid day and I had the first class car to myself. Once there I looked at the schedules and picked Himeji as it was just 3 stops and 40 minutes down the line, perfect time to eat a box lunch and have a beer on the way back.
Now another example of my joss, I had been looking for Himeji Castle in Kyoto, not realizing that Himeji was a totally separate city so imagine my surprise as we pulled in and there was the castle right smack in the middle of town. I had my luggage with me so it was not convenient to go visit now but it was only 40 mins from Osaka, I’ll comer back on Monday.
Back to Osaka and my hotel, The Oriental, was just across the street from Awaza subway station, a quieter part of town than where Steve and I had stayed the last time, The Comfort Inn, just off Shinsaiobashi, which is the heart beat of Osaka. That had not been available but this was just 2 subway stops away.
It was back to the small rooms that I have become used to, but this one was only Y5,000 ($47) a night and it had an onsen in the basement, unfortunately there had been a fire down there last week and it was closed.
After settling in and a bit of a rest I headed for Shinsaiobashi, and the bright lights, Osaka has a great variety of street food and I was determined to eat my way around downtown, but first a couple of happy hour beers at the Pig n Whistle pub.
After wandering around Shinsaiobashi for a few hours eating all manner of delicious but unpronounceable foods and absorbing the electricity of the area I finally wound up at Murphy’s Irish Pub which was packed.
Michael was surprised to see me and I was amazed he instantly recognized me and called out my name, “Frank, what are you doing here?, there is no race (F1)” I squeezed into the bar between a lad from Essex and a couple from Sydney who were being regaled by a fellow from Seattle.
The Aussies were on a 1 week whirlwind tour, off to Tokyo in the morning so I gave them a few tips for Shinjuku, Shibuya and of course Popeye’s.
The Essex boy was over here teaching English of course, an Ipswich supporter.
The Seattle man was the most interesting, he had been in Osaka for 30 years and on his 3rd Japanese wife, he was really pissed off when I told him I first went to Seattle for the Man. Utd. vs Celtic game in 2003, he had only heard about it after it was all sold out.
There was also a new Irish bartender behind the stick, Sean, from Kells, County Meath, he had met Michael in Dublin and after hearing all the stories decided to come over a year ago and give it a go. Yes, you guessed it, he is teaching English during the week and 1 night in the bar.
Might have to give this English teaching gig a go one of these days!
Sunday, having witnessed yesterday morning at Nijo castle I knew Sunday at any nationally renowned site would be over run so I picked Wayayama Castle, because it was miles from nowhere, at least according to my reckoning, which proved to be right. Unfortunately this was the castle of a favored shogun general so not as ornate, rather dull in fact. But it was a good visit to a small Japanese town off the beaten path.
I got back to Namba station in Osaka and there was a kids hip hop dance show going on in the station forecourt, I started to make a movie but was quickly and quietly told no. I was a bit miffed until I realized it was being filmed from several angles. They must have thought I was a pirate! Arrr.
I wandered through Namba and came out on Shinsaiobashi, well time for a G n’T at the Pig n Whistle, 5:45pm and I’m the only one there, what’s wrong with this picture?
Hanshin Tigers Osaka vs Nippon Ham Fighters baseball game was on the telly tied at 3-3 in the seventh, perfect, my 2 favored teams. The owner came over to inquire if I wanted to watch something else and we got talking, he has had the joint since 1978 when it was really different to have an English pub but nowadays it does not matter what type of pub you have, Osaka has a very young population and they do not drink, “spend to much time twiddling their thumbs on mobiles” he said.
It’s Sunday night, Michael is not working at Murphy’s so it’s a good night for a movie at home, I grabbed a sushi box in Namba, a bottle of sake at 7-11 on the corner and settled in to watch sexy beast with Ray Winston.
Monday, I was up bright’ n early and headed for Himeji Castle, it dull and overcast in Osaka but when I got to Himeji it was a lot brighter. That’s one of the great things about the high speed trains and the mountainous terrain, ½ an hour and you have completely different weather. I got there just after 9am before the crowds. Himeji is the largest wood and plaster castle in Japan, very impressive and a hell of a climb to the top via a series of narrow steep stairways. Other than it’s size and majesty Himeji is not very discernable from every other castle, no fancy suits of armour, weapons or headgear like Osaka. I almost skipped the gardens but really glad I didn’t, they were some of the most impressive that I saw on the whole trip.
Returning to the train station I passed a small supermarket in an arcade off the main boulevard and stopped in. They had a great variety of sushi bento boxes at half the price of the station so I picked one up for the ride to Kyoto.
By the time I got to Kyoto it was raining again but I have wanted to visit this giant Pagoda that you can see from the train for a couple of years. With my trusty mini umbrella I trudged off in the rain and reached it in about 10-12 minutes, the pagoda itself was very impressive but the surrounding temples were rather uninteresting. Just down the street was a private railway (Kinki Nippon Electric railway) that was just one stop back into the main Kyoto JR station.
I could not get the fish n cheese spring rolls in sea urchin sauce out of my mind since last Friday and had contemplated staying in Kyoto for dinner but it was now only 2:30pm and it was pouring, what to do?
I decided to catch a train back to Osaka where it was also raining and do laundry, very exciting!
I wandered into Shinsaiobashi and had a drink at the pig but the whole area was dead, a combination of Monday and the rain. I found a nice little restaurant in the covered shopping arcade and had breaded pork cutlet w/curry for dinner, very good.
Tuesday, more heavy rain which rulled out going to Nara for the day so lets try the Shinkansen maneuver again and head south to Hiroshima which is a 1 ½ hour trip. Again by the time we passed Himeji the rain was letting up and by Hiroshima it was a nice day.
I have been to Hiroshima 3 years ago with Steve and Dave when we visited the Peace Memorial, where the bomb had exploded, it had been very emotional and I did not want to relive it.
I checked the local map and saw there was a castle but the whole city is less than 50 years old so it is only a replica, I decided instead to visit the Shukkeien gardens which were beautiful and virtually tourist free, in fact I was the only westerner.
This was last day in the south western part of Japan and I wanted to have lunch at the Hanshin Dept. store in Osaka, so I headed back and got a seat on the JR West Rail Star train, when I asked for a green seat I was told there were none, I misunderstood this for no availability only to find out that it is an all biz class train at coach prices. Instead of 3&2 abreast, it was 2&2 like green class but the seats were not as comfortable and had less pitch, it was packed, especially with a lot of backpackers, who all got off at Himeji.
Got back to Osaka just after 1pm and the rain had finally relented, I had a quick walk through the Hanshin basement food court, ahh the glorious sights and smells, I wish I had an apartment to take this all home too.
Off up to the roof to choose a restaurant, they have about 10 and Steve and I had eaten in one the last trip, so I decided to pick one of the others. I got a great lunch of miso soup, sushi and tempura for Y1750 ($16). This was my last day and those spring rolls were still on my mind so off to Kyoto we go. The Hanshin store basement connects straight into the Osaka JR station and I caught an express in 5 mins so I was there in half an hour. Just enough time to visit the Tofukuji Temple just about the last of the major temples, it was nice but nothing spectacular. I toured the whole complex until they closed at 5pm when I caught the Keihan Electric railway back into town.
Kyoto is a lovely little city and standing there on a bridge over the Kamogawa River looking at the Pontocho district and the mountains in the background it reminded me of Florence, Italy, substitute temples for museums.
I was just strolling around when I spotted a Union Jack flag and remembered that there was a branch of the Osaka Pig‘n Whistle here, what a nice surprise, a couple of G’n T’s to sharpen the appetite. It was 6:15pm and the place was deserted, I had 2 drinks and left, it’s just not comfortable having a quiet drink while staff are buzzing around polishing glasses etc.
Finally around 7 I felt hungrey enough to head towards ZuZu and the long awaited spring rolls, they had no salmon sashimi so I had the tuna and the rolls, awesome, just as I had remembered.
I hopped on a Shinkansen and headed back to Osaka to have a final drink with Michael at Murphy’s, the place was quiet and we could chat.
I had just been in Dublin a few weeks earlier and had been in his neighbourhood, Donnybrook. I told him about a new Asian/Benihana style place that had opened where I had dinner with my god-daughter and family. We laughed. Then I inquired about his sister who is married to the Japanese owner of Murphy’s and lives in Australia? Turns out they have moved to Dublin and he does sushi catering to large corporations, what an upside down world! 
After a few pints of Guinness and a couple of shots of Power’s it was time to hit the road before the subway closed, we promised to keep in touch and I would give him some advance notice next time.
Wednesday morning, I checked out of The Oriental at 10am and with heavy heart started the long 4 day trek home. I had an 11:40am reservation on the Super Hakari Express to Tokyo so therefore plenty of time to explore all the food options for lunch on the train. I had almost settled on 1 sushi bento box when I spied a little restaurant tucked away under a stairwell and went to investigate, there in the display cabinet was exactly what I was looking for, a sushi box with 80% eel, oh happy days! Now I just needed a small bottle of sake to wash it down, I had already past a store that had a good variety so back I went.
With travel supplies in hand I was rather parched so it was time for a beer to celebrate my great week in Kansai, Sayonara Osaka, till we meet again.
Having ridden all the various Shinkansen’s in one week I can say the Max Tori tri level is the most comfortable seat, it is the only one which has a leg rest unfold behind your calf’s when you recline.
Back in Tokyo at 2:40pm, I get the Yamanote line up to Ueno and a short walk to The Oak, because I had made this reservation at short notice they only had a tatami Japanese style room, I had been meaning to use one but never got to it, now I had no choice. It was fine.
Well it was the last day of my Japan rail pass and I had thought of going to see Bobby Valentine’s Chiba Marines baseball team play but after traveling all day I did not fancy spending an hour during rush hour traveling out to Chiba to see a bad team with no guarantee of getting in, so I decided to go to Yokohama instead. I could get there before rush hour, spend a few hours then stop someplace else on the way back. Tally ho.
Back to Tokyo station and I got an express to Yokohama which only took 20 minutes, unfortunately in those 20 mins. it started to drizzle, by the time I transferred to a local train to Ishikawacho, which is at the entrance to Chinatown, it was now a steady rain, time for a rethink.
Back to Yokohama and the express back into Tokyo, I had reserved my last 2 nights for Popeye’s so I might as well head for Shinjuku, after all I had not been to The Hazelburn yet, that would not do.
I got the Chuo line from Tokyo to Shinjuku, surprisingly the Chuo does not fill up in Tokyo during rush hour but rather in Shinjuku so it was not to bad. I naturally headed for The Hub, it seems to be one of the few happy hour bars that do business and I had become friendly with the staff!!
After a few G’nT’s I was staring to feel a bit hungry so it was around the corner to my favourite spinning sushi bar, it had been a week and I missed it, last go round!
Plenty of eel and some tuna put things right but I left some room for Haggis Brochette and a Speckled Hen at The Hazelburn . The last time Steve and I were here the staff had remembered us from the Formula 1 the previous year, but now all the staff had changed, actually the place was very quiet for 9pm, normally there would have been a few salarymen entertaining. I had my haggis, washed it down with a Speckled Hen and naturally had to finish with a single malt.
Back on the street it was 10pm and so time for a last Shinjuku beer at Mother’s, it would complete the night.
Thursday dawned nice and bright of course, my rail pass has expired, I’m on the return leg, my knee is giving me gyp but the sun is shining, oh well at least the Japanese tatami bed had been very comfortable, I slept 9 hours straight and felt fantastic.
I wandered down to Ueno park and had some breakfast watching the world go by, I started to stroll around the park but my knee started to ache so I headed back to the hotel and picked up a bag of ice at 7 Eleven on the way.
After a few hours surfing the net and icing my knee I decided to head back to Yokohama, I did not get more than ½ a mile from the station when it started aching again and I was forced to concede defeat for the day, damn.
By 7pm it feeling alright again, so time to head for Popeye’s.
The owner Tatsuo Aoki was delighted to see me back and the bartender was amazed at how much of Japan I had covered in a week, I started where I had left off the previous week with the Yona Yona, ah bliss.
Shortly after an American came in and took the stool next to me, we got talking and he was from Nevada over here working at Disneyland as a rigger for Cirque De Soleil. I was impressed, what a great job and to be paid to live in Japan, unfortunately he was not as impressed. He was not the adventurous type and had not adapted to Tokyo lifestyle, until he had found Popeye’s he had just bought a 6 pack each night after work and went home, he could not wait for his 9 month contract to end. Well after a bit of advice from me he was starting to perk up, I told him about, Footnik in Ebisu, The Aldgate in Shibuya, The Hub, Angel, Hazelburn and Mother’s in Shinjuku, day trips to Hakone and Isu, onsens and the Sunday fashion parade in Harajuku. He had been very frightened of the language barrier but I assured him it was not as big a problem as he feared, I hope he is having a great summer.
Friday dawned and it was my last full day in Tokyo and it was going to be a scorcher. I walked down to Ueno Park and had some breakfast, no sightseeing plans today, just take it easy and wander around. Ueno is a really big park so I set out to explore it, there is a small but very cool zoo, I did not go in as the lines were huge with of course hundreds of school children. The natural history museum at the north end has a full size blue whale outside, very cool.
It was now getting on for lunch time and I fancied a department store restaurant, they are without doubt the best value, so I jumped on the Ginza line subway and went to Shinjuku, which is the last stop and is conveniently located in the East-West mall where the fourth floor is a foodies heaven.
I chose a traditional looking Japanese restaurant and it was superb, a mix of sushi and tempura.
After lunch I decided to visit the Akinabari district, which is where they sell all the electronics. I was interested to see if I could find a compact video/mp3 player but after traipsing through about 6 different multi floored shops I could find nothing, tons of mini computers and dvd players. Some of the mini laptops were ridiculously cheap ($400) but they had no operating system and you would have to deal with a Japanese keyboard.
It was now about 5pm and a beautiful afternoon I decided to walk back to The Oak which was about 3 subway stops.
Later I headed to Popeye’s for my last pints of Yona Yona, being Friday night the place was packed, but everybody squished up and made room for my at the bar, Aoki-san directing everything, he had purposely sat me next to Fernando, who spoke English and Japanese with a slight American accent, turned out he was originally from Detroit but now lived in Germany and came to Japan about 5/6 times a year. He is an automotive engineer and would love to live in Japan, he has had several offers but the wife and kids are settled in Germany, that’s that.
Naturally we struck up a great conversation about beers, he was very knowledgeable and had been frequenting Popeye’s for years, he knew all the locals. I was having a great time but like all things it was coming to an end, it was past 11pm and I had to think about catching 2 trains. Fernando on the other hand was booked into the hotel right around the corner, which is where I will be staying next time.
Saturday dawned another scorcher, I had to be checked out by 10am which left a rather long time to kill as my flight was not until 7:30pm. I left my bag at reception and decided to have one last look at Harajuku, while not quiet up to the Sunday show it was still the most interesting place on Saturday and from there I would be able to walk down to Shibuya and have that great lunch again.
Of course the best laid plans always go awry, by the time I got to Shibuya starving and thirsty, the mall was packed and there was a forty – fifty minute wait for a table, I did not have the time or patience so I had to settle for a western looking café across the way. It could have been worse, they had a beer lovers special on which consisted of a broiled sliced steak cooked with ginger & garlic, potatoes and a half liter of Sapporo beer, all for Y1650 ($15), a bargain and it was good.
Well that was it, time to head back to The Oak, grab my bag and head for Narita, the adventure was over.
Instead of the Narita Express which I would have to go to Tokyo station to catch and pay Y3140 ($30) I took the regular Keisei Limited Express from Ueno for Y1000 ($9.50), I was planning on taking the Keisei Skyliner but the next one was not for 30 mins and I did not feel like waiting to pay an extra Y950.
I had naturally checked out all the lounges at Narita in www.flyertalk.com and discovered that JAL had renovated both the main terminal and annex lounges at terminal 2 but had not installed showers so as I was hot and sticky from running around I went to the American Airlines Admirals club and got a shower cubicle right away. What bliss to take a long relaxing shower before a trans pacific flight only to be made better by not having to do it on AA but JAL.
After my shower I check-out there food offerings and they were abysmal, I grabbed a quick gin n tonic and headed for the JAL Sakura lounge.
All I can say is WOW, it was amazing, huge comfortable club chairs everywhere and 3 bars all with a panoramic view of the airport. I grabbed a beer from the automated machine and wandered around but what really got my attention was the terrific aroma of beef curry wafting through the air.
At the bottom of a grand semi circular stairway was a sign pointing up to the “food bar”, lead on McDuff and up I went.
Downstairs had wowed me but this was just another world, to my right was a 30 foot martini bar over looking the tarmac, to the right was a full bar and in the middle, 2 food counters, 1 hot and 1 cold. The hot had miso soup, sticky rice and beef curry. The cold had sushi and salads, my god what was the first class lounge like?
The lounge was very busy as there were a lot of late afternoon flights, I had plenty of time so I sat up at the martini bar and had another G ‘n T, looking out at the tarmac I counted 17 Boeing 747’s, a magnificent sight. The destination board beside me showed they were headed all over the world but the one at gate 64 in front of me was only going to Nagoya, a 2 hour train ride from central Tokyo!!
After a lot of the crowd left I grabbed some curry, it was perfect to bridge the gap between lunch and dinner on board, the food and wine offerings in JAL biz class are far ahead of any American carrier.
The flight was very uneventful and I managed to sleep for 6 hours.
What a shock it is to land back at JFK, 90 + degrees, hazy, hot & humid.

Japan revisited

2008-06-30T15:25:00.000-07:00

Japan Revisited

After my first visit to Japan in 2005, I could not wait to return. Immediately upon my arrival back in New York, I started to investigate how to get back using miles .I had 128,000 miles sitting in my British Airways account, but how to maximize them was the quest.
Cathay Pacific has consistently been voted the #1 airline in the world and this was my chance to fly with them, experience their legendary service and of course the Wing lounge in Hong Kong. Ah Hong Kong, yes, another fantasy that I could fulfill on this trip.
I worked out all the logistics of the flights and prepared to call BA on the morning of the first day of availability, 330 days in advance. But of course the best laid plans of mice and men came into play, Hong Kong is half a day ahead of New York and somebody had nipped in and taken the Hong Kong to Tokyo flights ahead of me, I could not believe it. The BA agent was very good and when I explained the boundaries of my trip she quickly worked out an alternative schedule using JAL whom I had not realized were one world members. They were pending at the time but giving full flight sharing as of that date.
Ok so no Cathay but at least I would be starting my second Oriental adventure right from the get go, at JFK.
Steve was up for the return journey and it was just a matter of guessing the date for the Japanese Formula One Grand Prix which I correctly forecast for the first weekend in October. Unfortunately Murray could not make this trip as he had used all his miles and of course he had no idea he was about to meet the future Mrs. Murray, Melissa, shortly after, but that is a story for another day.
Booking a big trip this far in advance has its” perks, you initially get excited, but then other holidays roll around and you get distracted, then all of a sudden there is only a few weeks to go.
Steve for some reason had no interest in coming to Hong Kong, same as he had no interest in Shanghai last year. But like me, he is totally enamored with Japan, so he flew into Tokyo three days ahead.
Just as I had hoped the whole Japanese experience started after I checked in and entered the JAL Sakura lounge, there were the Asahi beer machines, the little thin egg and tuna sandwiches, the little rice cakes, voila, I was in Japan already but I had just got of the JFK shuttle, fantastic.
Naturally I had allowed myself plenty of time to enjoy all of this, after a breakfast of green tea, sanrnies and rice cakes, I powered up the beer machine. Fantastic contraptions, you simply put an ice cold glass in the cradle, push the button, it tilts up and pours you a perfect glass of ice cold beer. Ah the simple things in life. I was by no means the first into the beer, most of the Japanese salary men were well ahead of me. It was also somehow rather nice to be one of only 2 or 3 Caucasians in the lounge, it added to the authenticity of the occasion.
Upon boarding our 747-400, which is my favorite plane now that Concorde is no longer flying, I was surprised not to be greeted with bubbly or sake, given that the Japanese like to drink so much!
The plane left the gate some 15 minutes late but we were further held on the taxiway another 45 minutes so it would now be virtually impossible to make the same Shinkansen as Steve in Tokyo at 3:36pm, which is why I had given him separate copies of the hotel reservations in Nagoya.
Once off the ground, the JAL service was impeccable, the food, the wines, everything superb. It’s so nice to go back to acting like a civilized person, bowing and saying thank you, this is one of the reasons I’m returning.
Upon arrival in Narita, I felt very at home, after passing through immigration and customs there was the familiar Citibank ATM and the Japan Rail office and station was just down the escalator. I grabbed some cash and exchanged my voucher for my actual Japan Rail Pass and booked seats through to Nagoya.
At Tokyo station I looked around, hoping that Steve might have found out that my flight was late and waited, but there was no sign of him, so I settled into the 4:06 Hikari express for the 2 hour ride, it only seemed like yesterday that I was last on one and it felt good.
The car was fairly empty and it was a nice bright sunny afternoon, room to stretch out and enjoy the passing countryside.
Nagoya is a very large industrial city of some 7 million people but it has to be one of the most boring cities I have ever had the misfortune to visit.
I had again booked us a hotel in what is supposed to be the nightlife district, Sakae, but compared to Tokyo or Osaka its dead. Thank god there was an Aussie pub “The Red Rock Pub” around the corner.
Sunday morning we headed for the track bright and early as we had not reservations. The platform at packed and naturally everyone was lined up nice and neat but I noticed there was nobody at the front car of the train, we walked down and walked straight on. It was pretty packed but I suppose all those other people would rather wait for the next train and seats.
Our seats for the race were not as good as last year; we were in the front row right at the pit lane exit and could just see the rear of the cars as they turned into turn one. Neither one of us had ever sat that close to the track before; it was a whole new experience.
With several hours to kill we set off in different directions to sample all the many edible delights the cart vendors offer. Various BBQ meats on sticks, noodles and egg combos, oyster balls, fried squid and chicken curry etc, great stuff.
This was the last F1 race at Suzuka, which is one of the most exciting on the circuit, next years race will be at the Fuji track which has more faster straightaways in keeping with the newer modern tracks built in Singapore, Bahrain and Turkey.
Also, it was Michael Schumacher’s last race in Japan and he went into it tied on points with reigning champion, Fernando Alonso, but ahead of him by virtue of more wins.
It started to look like Michael’s dream ending could come true, he started from pole with his team-mate along side him and lead for most of the race until he pulled over with mechanical difficulties with just seventeen laps to go. Fernando Alonso swept past him from second to win the race and virtually tie up his second championship.
As soon as he crossed the finish line we made a sprint for the railway station and were lucky enough to get on the second train, even scoring seats.
Back in Sakae by 5:30 I banged out my race report for Home & Away and we were on the street by 7:30 looking for a restaurant.
When I say Japan is easy to negotiate, it is until you come to small backstreet restaurants where wait staff do not speak English. A lot of them will have picture menus but you have to know what the pictures represent.
We found a small place with just such a menu and there were a couple of western women already dining, so in we went, it turned out to be Chinese!
What the hell, we had been walking around for over 45 minutes and were starving, we already had our fill of Japanese food for the day, so we just got some chicken and noodles with a couple of beers then off to the Aussie pub, no worries.
It was there on Sunday night that I got talking to 3 lads from Belfast who were out there working for Airbus, they outsource the wing building. I always thought all the components of an Airbus were made in various European countries and transported to Toulouse in France for assembly.
They get paid extremely well, naturally all expenses covered and either a flight home every six weeks or have a friend/loved one flown out for a week, not shabby. I’ll have a different view of an Airbus the next time I fly one.
Nagoya being the drab industrial city that it is is not known for any special tourist sights except Nagoya Castle so as we never expect to be back this way we decided to visit it on Monday before heading to Osaka.
It was well worth the visit and gives you a good look into Japan’s history, which is amazingly feudal.
It was then back onto the Shinkansen for the relatively short one hour trip to Osaka.
The station was packed as it was a national holiday and of course we picked the wrong line to stand in for seat reservations, all the trains going south to Osaka were empty but all the trains north to Tokyo were full and everyone on our line wanted to go to Tokyo.
Last year we experienced the reverse of this, we got to Osaka really early on the same holiday Monday and then tried to get seats to go south to Hiroshima, but they were all full. Nobody seems to travel very much in the middle zone!!
We arrived in Osaka late in the afternoon, it may only be an hour on the Shinkansen but that is only to Shin-Osaka, which is on the outskirts of the city. You then have to take either the subway or local JR to get to city centre. The subway is the easiest as it goes right through the city centre. The JR is a loop; it depends where your hotel is.
We had rooms at The Comfort Inn in Shinsaibashi, the main entertainment district of Osaka; it makes Nagoya look like Provo, Utah.
After a leisurely stroll of the area, we stopped for happy hour at the British pub “The Pig & Whistle” on Midosuji, two 20oz Ashihi beers for 1200 Yen, about $10. Good value in a Japanese theme pub.
Tonight we had decided to dine on street food as a famous New York chef, Anthony Bourdain, had recently done a TV show on the subject and it looked great.
All the food vendors can be found on one street that runs parallel of the Dotonbori River, if you are on the covered shopping street, Shinsaibashi Suji (1 block east of pub) you just walk south until you cross a bridge by Kirin Plaza and you are immersed in neon light, that’s it.
We started with yakisoba, a noodle egg and beef dish with a tangy sweet sauce scrambled on a griddle, very good and filling. Next we tried BBQ crab legs which were grilled on the street outside a restaurant with a giant crab for a façade. The legs were so good we decided we were going to eat there the next night.
Next up on Tony’s list was a food court marked by a giant clown, which just happened to be down the street from the giant crab, all in neon of course.
At the food court you get a ticket upon entry which is marked by all the vendors you visit and you are charged accordingly on the way out. Unfortunately in the whole 4 stories the place Tony had deep fried foods on a stick was the only one worth visiting, it was also packed, so we left feeling cheated.
Back on the street we were still a bit hungry and opted to sit down at a small noodle shack and ended up with a delicious fish noodle soup.
By now it was about 9:30pm and a lot of restaurants start to close up, Osaka is a very industrial city and people get up early. It was now time to head for Murphy’s Irish Pub, which we had found last year, but as it was a holiday, Michael, the manager from Dublin was not there.
We decided to have a quick beer and call it a night, Kyoto was calling tomorrow.
Tuesday dawned as another bright clear day with temps in the low 60’s, we caught the subway 3 stops to Osaka station and then a JR rapid express to Kyoto, about 30 mines.
What an incredible railroad station, this huge glass and steel structure looked more like a giant greenhouse, the roof had to be 150 ft. high, at either end there were staircases and escalators going up and up and up.
We were here to see ancient shrines but this modern marvel had to be investigated. Last year we had not seen this, the Shinkansen station was totally separate.
After climbing all the escalators there was a fantastic panoramic view of Kyoto and you can walk across a gallery that spans the whole station.
We had decided to visit Kinkakuji Temple (Golden Pavilion) which is located in North West Kyoto, the one they bring all the visiting dignitaries to, they even brought Bush here, which must have been a waste of time!
There are several smaller shrines and temples in the vicinity making it an all day destination.
Surprisingly, even though Kyoto was once the capital of Japan, it does not have a massive fortress like Nagoya and Osaka castles.
We took the Karasuma subway to Kitaoji and walked, and walked, and walked, boy did we walk. Over 3 hours we covered 8 temples of which, the last Fukuoji was my favourite.
When we left the Fukuoji temple we were tired, hungry, thirsty and lost. It was a completely residential area so we just followed a bunch of people who had left ahead of us and hoped we came across a train line of some sort. A couple of minutes later we stumbled upon a small single platform station and a small single car train pulled in. It was the Kiefuku Electric Railway, a small independent railway that operates 2 lines in the NW of Kyoto. We hopped on board and hoped for the best, a few stops down the line it was everybody off, some ran to the train across the platform while others ran through the underpass to another train, we hesitated and both trains left without us. At the ticket barrier, we asked for Kyoto and were pointed back to the train across the tracks.
When another one car train arrived it was a fascinating journey, in and out behind little houses, across roads and at one point down the middle of a very busy street where there were tiny 2ft wide raised platforms. It then stopped at the light, pulled into the middle of the intersection like a bus, waited for the traffic and made a right into a park.
Finally we got off at the last stop, a busy intersection somewhere in NW Kyoto, and a map outside only showed the local neighbourhood but there was a subway connecting to another subway 1 stop away so down we went.
Logically we thought the train was running west to east so we went one stop thinking we would come to the north/south line we had taken earlier in the day.
One stop later and we came out, went around the corner, only to find the private line we had been on before.
Now we are getting very frustrated, we are tired, hungry and in desperate need of a beer, so let’s try a cab.
The first car I approach waves me off as I start speaking, this is typical, they just don’t want to know foreigners, but another pulls up behind and waves me over, I sputter, Kyoto Shinkansen, he nods and opens the door. Yes the driver opens the door for you with a little lever in the front.
With his white gloves, immaculate white starched shirt, black bow tie it was a very smooth 20 minute drive to the station for 14,000 Yen, about $12.
There is a train in a few minutes, just enough time to grab a small sandwich and a couple of cans of beers. It’s only 15 minutes to Osaka and then 20 minutes on the subway till we are seated in the The Pig & Whistle for happy hour, another days sightseeing survived.
That night we dined at the giant crab shack, 5 or 6 courses of crab in various forms with rice, noodles, soup and desert plus a couple of bottles of sake and we were out the door for under $100, right, Japan is sooo expensive.
After a wander around to walk off the meal we decided to have a nightcap at Murphy’s, and see if Michael was back. He was, he had been up in the north island of Hokkaido, camping for the holiday weekend.
Wednesday was forecast for showers in the morning with clearing in the afternoon, so we decided to visit the Hanshin Tiger’s official souvenir shop which is located in the Hanshin Dept. store and can be accessed from the Umeda subway station, it actually connects the subway with the main Osaka JR station.
On the subway level is the food court and what a marvellous place it is, the sights and smells are overwhelming with lots of free samples. It reminded me of the food court at Harrods in London.
On the level below the food court is their equivalent of a fast food restaurant court, but it is light years from Mickey D’s or Burger King, good quality sushi and noodle shops. But the best lunch food can be found in department store rooftop restaurants, we decided to split up and meet on the top floor in a couple of hours.
Steve went up the escalator but I decided to return to the main food court and peruse the edible delights. Also I wanted to see what the surrounding area was like, but it was just faceless concrete buildings, this was the downtown business district.
Back inside the store I made my way to the top on the escalators checking out what your average Japanese family shops for on the way, I especially wanted to see what the furniture department was selling as we were not going to get invited into a typical home to get a glimpse. Surprisingly it was very western.
Steve and I bumped into each other in the Tigers souvenir shop, after a quick shufty around I headed up to the restaurant floor where there was a choice of about 8, each with plastic versions of their fare on display in the window.
While waiting for Steve I took a look around the roof, aside from a small Buddha shrine and an artificial grassy area there was a large bar area that is only open during the summer months for the after work crowd.
Downstairs I met up with Steve and we chose the only restaurant that had a line, figure they must know something and they did, it was fantastic.
Sated on a great lunch we caught a train to Osaka Castle, it is the largest of all the castles and the most visited tourist attraction in Japan. Luckily as it was a dreary day it was not crowded and you get time to appreciate the history of Japan also the view from the roof is fantastic.
Upon leaving the castle we continued around the circle JR line to Namba station and walked from there to the hotel, on the way we found the funky punk side of Osaka, cool. Naturally we ended up at The Pig n Whistle for happy hour.
Our last night and we wanted to return to the restaurant Murphy had sent us to last year, Zing on Sakai Suji by the Nipponbashi Bridge over the Dotonbori River. It was as fantastic as we remembered and they had even hired an English speaking waitress, I guess Murf sends them a lot of biz!
Thursday dawned bright and sunny and it was with heavy heart that we bade farewell to Osaka and boarded the 10:43am Hikari Shinkansen to Tokyo, we got a great view of Mount Fuji on the way.
Arriving in Tokyo it all seemed so familiar, off the train, down the escalator and make a left to the far end of the station where the famed Chuo
Line is located. This is the most loved and hated train line in Tokyo and funnily enough is painted this horribly dark orange which gives it a Halloween look.
We got in the front car as it is the most convenient to exit the north east side of Shinjuku station, plus I love being able to look out the front window of a train. I had not ridden in the front since last years trip to the track at Suzuka and was flabbergasted to see that even an everyday suburban train engineer made all the same white gloved “hi ho silver” hand expressions. Great stuff!
Upon exiting the station it felt like home, aah, great to be back.
Our first mission was to find an English bar “Heaven’s Door” on the western side of Yoyoki, I had read about it in The Lonely Planet guide book and apparently they showed all the football and was across the street from a great restaurant where they spoke no English but if you sat at the counter you could just point.
The nearest station was Shimo-Kitazawa on the Odakyu train line (an independent operator) which was located on the western side of Shinjuku station, in New York City it would be like getting on the PATH train.
Naturally we came out of the wrong exit, but after wandering around for a few minutes we eventually found the main shopping street and then it was just a matter of finding Mr. Donuts and making a right, or so we thought!
We found ourselves in very neat little enclave of small single family houses, after several passes up and down each street we eventually spied a small beer sign in an upstairs window and across the street (alley) the restaurant was equally well camouflaged by some well positioned bushes. Unfortunately neither opened until 6pm and it was only 5 so we headed back to Shinjuku as we were in serious need of libations.
We headed straight for Hub, the English bar chain, as they do a great happy hour that, as I had previously mentioned is very popular with young Japanese workers.
While good for happy hour, Hub is not somewhere you would want to spend the evening so we decided to head to our favourite Scotch bar Hazelburn, I remembered approximately where it was but as Steve had been here last week for 2 days he walked straight to the front door.
After a couple of pints of Speckled Hen, we ordered some haggis briochetta and fish n’ chips, both of which were superb. We then proceeded to do some serious single malt scotch tasting, they have a collection like non other that I have ever seen. Selecting various distilleries we would try their 10, 12, 15 and 18 year olds back to back, not a bad way to spend an evening in Tokyo. All told we must have tried about fourteen scotches plus the food and beer, the bill came to 20,000Yen ($172), not bad!
Upon leaving Hazelburn we naturally had to head to our favourite Tokyo dive bar, Mothers, for some cold beers and loud loud rock n roll. I left Steve there sometime around 2am as I wanted to do a few things the next (same) day.
Friday we had decided to each go our own way and meet in Hub before the end of happy hour. It was the last day of my Japan Rail Pass and I really wanted one last ride on a shinkansen, plus we had not been North of Tokyo so I decided to kill 2 birds with one stone and go to Nagano up in the mountains where the winter Olympics had been held back in 1998.
After breakfast at the hotel (no sign of Steve) I took the Chuo line over to Tokyo station but before going to Nagano I decided to visit Ueno Park which contains Tokyo Zoo and some gardens. I found a nice temple but no gardens; in fact I was very disappointed with all the gardens I had seen on this trip.
Back to Tokyo station and I caught the 1:04pm Asama shinkansen to Nagano; the trip is 100 minutes each way so I had plenty of time. More so than going south, the north-western Tokyo suburbs seem to go on for ever. Finally we shrugged them off and hit some countryside but there was not much to see as it was a dreary overcast day. We then ran through a series of tunnels and finally burst out into a beautiful lush green valley full of bright sunshine and clear blue skies, what a difference a mountain range makes.
Upon arrival in Nagano I consulted a local map, but most of the shrines etc worth seeing were considerable train rides and I was sort of tied for time so I settled for a walk around town and got back to the station just in time to hop on the 3:26pm back to Tokyo which got in at the height of the rush hour, 5:12pm. I had unconsciously wanted to experience this and here I was. I wandered around the station, taking in various performers, bands and solo singers belting out Japanese pop music, there was a great buzz about the whole place. Next up was the infamous Chuo line; I had only ridden it during off peak times, now maybe I would find out why it was so loved and loathed.
I made my way to the front of the platform and waited for a train, Tokyo is the terminus of the line so I would be able to get my window perch. The car was jam packed but there were none of the famed Tokyo car packers as seen in the movies, maybe they only have them on the subway?
When we got to Shinjuku I spilled out with the rest of the crowd and somehow felt cheated, I had been given no reason what so ever to dislike the line, maybe with all the people boarding here there was something down the line so I decided to wait and board the next one for a trip to the suburbs.
About 20 minutes and 4 express stops later, still nothing, so I got off and returned to Shinjuku arriving at the Hub just in time to get a beer before the end of happy hour.
That night we had decided to visit Roppongi, an area we had missed last year due to the fact that it was supposedly full of clubs and expats, but felt we should at least try it.
As soon as we came out of the subway station we knew it was a mistake, it was a miniature version of Shinjuku but with lots of western tourists. We walked up the main street until we came to the Hobgoblin Pub, a typical English countryside pub dumped right in the heart of Tokyo and staffed entirely by English barmen. Outside were about 50 expats guffawing and smoking and inside there was nary a Japanese face to be seen. We had 1 beer and left.
Steve had a lead on some other place nearby so I had no problem following him back to the station where he turned right and down a major road but after 15 minutes or so it was obvious we were in a major business district with no nightlife in sight so Steve conceded defeat and we luckily found a subway which with one change got us back to Shinjuku.
It was still early so we decided to head for Shibuya and the Aldgate pub, after a few pints we were in a fit state to go in pursuit of some food and after wandering around for a bit spied a delicious looking fast food style Indian restaurant that was packed with locals, so in we went. A large lamb curry w/rice , nan bread and a mango lassi was about Yen750 ($7) and was great.
Shibuja is always packed, afterall it is the busiest intersection crossing in the world so we decided to take the JR train one stop further to Edisu and a bar called What The Dickens which had live music. The Japanese bar on the ground floor was celebrating an anniversary so it was like walking through an expensive flower shop to get to the elevator up to Dickens.
Unfortunately we arrived just as the band was finishing which was just as well as this place was also full of expats lads now working in Japan who had gotten themselves little Japanese girlfriends and were trying to impress them with their drinking prowess. God I hope I was not like this when I was in my twenties!
It was after midnight now and time to start thinking about the last trains back to Shinjuku so we headed for the station. After the morning and evening rush hours this is the busiest time of day, actually I found it more crowded than the Chuo line but we squeezed in and were soon back in familiar territory and headed for Mothers.
Saturday was our last full day in Tokyo together and the one overriding thing that had to be done was offer up prayer cards at the Meiji Temple in Yoyogi Park, it had worked so well for Steve last year that I had to have a prayer said for Spurs to beat Chelsea for the first time in seventeen years and three weeks later it came true, Spurs beat Chelsea 2-1 at White Hart Lane.
After breakfast Steve wanted to visit an old part of Tokyo that I had not heard of so I said lets go, unfortunetly by the time we walked to the station my tummy was feeling rather upset and I thought it prudent to stay near my exotic Japanese toilet back at the hotel.
Steve took off and we agreed to meet outside Harajuku station around 3pm, visit the temple then wander down fashion alley.
The teenage girl fashions on parade in Harajuku on the weekend are out of this world, Saturday is pretty good but Sunday lunch time is the main event when they are all off school and part-time jobs. Unfortunately I was going to miss it as I had a 10am flight to Hong Kong but Steve would be lucky enough to catch it before his 6pm flight back to New York.
It was our last night and I would have to cut it short due to my early morning flight, the Wigan v Man Utd. Game was live on TV so we decided to go back to Heavens Door to watch it, unfortunately I got the times wrong and we were 3 hours to early. We had a couple of beers and decided to try the restaurant across the street, but it was full and they wanted to shuttle us down the street to a sister place where they wanted to put us in a small dark back room, which we wanted nothing to do with.
We wandered around the neighbourhood and found a small Japanese noodle place and had a quick bite.
Other than Heaven’s Door there was nothing else to do so we headed back to Shinjuku, this way we could watch the game at the The Angel Irish pub just down the street from Hub and I could get to bed early.
This is the same pub we had our first beers in with Dave just over a year ago, we had come full circle.
A few other English guys showed up and of course they were all rooting for Man U., the Japanese staff got a great kick out of the fact that I was cheering for Wigan although they went down to Steve’s prediction 3-1.
Half way through the game a couple of scantily clad girls came in promoting Corona and were delighted when Steve and I bought rounds for everyone. Steve drinks Corona as a steady diet and had not had one in almost 2 weeks, so it was like mana from heaven.
Sunday morning I was up bright and early and down the station by 6:30am for the 7am Narita Express, I had not bought a ticket in advance as it was early Sunday morning so I was very surprised to learn there was standing room only, I should have known.
Next stop Hong Kong.

Alaska 2007

2007-12-09T19:31:00.000-08:00

Alaska

I had wanted to visit Alaska for years; with the rising Euro and British pound, the ever increasing airfares during the summer to Europe, I decided in March 2007 that this was the year. I cashed in sixty thousand Delta airmiles, for a first class, round trip ticket. This also made brilliant sense as an economy ticket to London is 60,000 mile and first class 90,000 during the summer for a seven hour flight. Anchorage was a 9 hour flight, for the price of economy to London.
After a 10 ½ hour trip from New York via Cincinnati, I arrived at Ted Stevens’s airport in Anchorage. It was 8pm local time (midnight in NYC). I had reservations on the 6:45am train to Seward, and had booked a room at the Econo Inn, close to the train depot. While waiting for the motel shuttle, I had an interesting chat with a TSA agent, who was posted up there for the summer from California, being from Piso Beach, with no major airport nearby, he frequently gets posted to busy areas. Last Christmas/New Year’s, he was posted to Washington’s Reagan airport. He does not agree with all the TSA procedures, but has to follow command! What other job in Piso Beach would give him these travel opportunities.
By the time I got to my room at 9pm my body clock was saying 1am, but the sun was still shining, so I went in search of a drink and a bite to eat. There was not much around in the immediate area, but I did find La Cabana Mexican restaurant, which served a good margarita and tasty seafood tacos.
Sated, I went back to the motel and got to bed around 11pm, boy did that 5am alarm go off quick. The Alaska railroad require you to check-in 1 hour prior to departure just like the airlines, fortunately they had good coffee.
When we finally got to board, I was located in the last reserved car which was of their older rolling stock and had big comfortable reclining seats. Each car has an assigned tour guide, in my case it was the lovely Jennifer, and it just so happened her Dad was in the seat directly behind me. Jen was a high school senior and eager to show off her knowledge of her home state. Dad just kept asking more and more questions; bring out the best in her.
Although the journey is only 128 miles the train takes 4 ½ hours, slowing down for all animal sightings and four glaciers, at one point stopping for almost ½ an hour in a spur to let the Whittier train pass. It is a journey you do not want to end. The scenery outside your window is mesmerizing, the snow capped mountains slope down through emerald green forests to the crystal clear aqua blue lakes that mirror the mountains and sky. The houses dotted along the lake shores don’t have cars parked in the driveways, but seaplanes moored at the dock. A higher percentage of people commute by plane than car in Alaska. If you are really lucky, you will see some Dahl sheep, a moose or an elk, it is extremely unlikely to see a bear from the train, but it has been known.
When you finally pull into Seward at the head of Resurrection Bay, it is almost the epitome of a picturesque fishing village, until you look off to your left and see the huge ugly conveyor belt pier that stretches out into the bay, this is for loading coal, that is brought by train down from the interior for shipment to Korea and Peru.
I had booked a room at the Breeze Inn Motel across the street from all the charter boat docks. My room was not ready so after dropping my bag off I went for an exploratory walk around town, but that only took 40 mins. it’s a small town ! Never the less it was enough to sharpen up my appetite for lunch, I had only had coffee and a power bar on the train. Most of the towns restaurants seemed to be of the same coffee shop/dinner type, all advertising fish n chips except for 2 right on the waterfront, Chinooks & Roy’s. I decided on Chinooks for some reason and was glad I did, the lovely proprietor, Sandy was tending bar and we struck up a great conversation. She is originally from nearby Connecticut. I sampled a few of the local Alaskan ales and soaked them up with a delicious grilled salmon with rice & veg. A most satisfying lunch.
Now the effects of the late night early start and jet lag were starting to have an effect, so I went to see if my room was ready, but alas the Breeze Inn are very firm about their 3pm check-in time and I was once more, cast out to fend for myself, for at least another hour. In no mood to do any more exploring I headed straight across the parking lot to the Breeze Inn’s bar/restaurant, to kill the hour over a beer.
Initially there were just a few guys, all of whom were smoking, so I stayed down the emptier end of the bar on my own, but then several of the restaurant waitresses came in to cash up their tips and have an after work drink, well they perked me right up and one of them was from Dublin, naturally! We had a great time and before you knew it, it was 5pm, they had to go home and I needed a nap, surely my room would be ready by now?
After a short nap I got up and wandered over to Ray’s which was packed but I managed to find a stool at the bar, and ordered up a Tanquary martini while I perused the menu. Well it had been a most satisfying first day in Alaska to I decided to treat myself to a pound of King Crab Legs, and a bottle of Cloudy Bay,(New Zealand chardonnay)awesome. Half way through dinner 3 guys joined me at the bar, they had just come in off a charter and one poor soul had not done so good, his mates were enjoying razzing him and I chimed in my two cents worth.
I finally shuffled out of Rays at 11pm but it only felt like 7 in New York, as it was still quite bright, I felt like having a nightcap at the Breeze bar but it had been a very long day and I had a glacier boat tour booked for 9am, so bedways was the bestway.
When I opened my eyes in the morning I could not believe it, I had slept through 2 alarms and it was 9:30, my ship had sailed. I got up and looked out through the curtains and the whole fjord/harbour was locked in by low clouds and fog, I had lucked out, it was a crappy day to out on the water. I called the office across the street and explained my predicament; a very nice lady asked if I was traveling solo? And when I said yes, she said I was better off missing the boat I was booked on, it held almost 200 passengers. She recommended I book the Captain’s choice tour for tomorrow which is on a much smaller vessel and so far there were only 16 bookings, thank you, yes there is a god, back to bed for an hour!
When I finally emerged into the day it was a very damp fog that reminded me of the old famous pea soupers, in the London of my youth. It was a good day for indoor activities, so I headed for the Alaska Sea Life Center, a mile down the road in downtown Seward. It was built with a donation from Exxon after the Exxon Valdez disaster decimated all the local sea life.
The sea life center is well worth a visit regardless of the weather, lots of very interesting exhibits of the local aquatic life, and plenty of live mammals and birds, which have been rescued due to various accidents.
I walked back to the small boat harbour and decided to have lunch at Chinooks again with Sandy, but unfortunately she was not working. I had their seafood chowder (better than Roy’s) and the crab cakes, very good.
After lunch I caught a shuttle out to Exit Glacier, what a difference a valley makes. In Seward it had been very overcast and misty; here it was 70 degrees and beautiful sunshine. It was a nice easy 1 mile hike to the glacier and although small in glacier terms it is very impressive, especially as you can get to within about 10 feet and feel the cold emanating off it.
Upon my return to Seward I had a quick nap then went for dinner again at Roy’s and met a very interesting man while dining at the bar, Steve, he worked for the coal mine in Healy which shipped the coal down via Alaska RR to Seward where it was shipped out.
I had originally planned to take the train up to Denali and the bus back but the bus was booked and the return train did not make my flight, so I had been forced to rent a car, but now Steve said I had made the right choice. The first 4 hours of the train journey were very boring and I would cover the distance in half the time with a car, but also that the train was packed with cruise passengers. Also being on the train I would not see Talkeetna, a beautiful little Alaskan town well worth a stop for lunch. We were then joined at the bar by a woman from Ketchikan, which is down the southeast peninsula, she and Steve started swapping stories, how hard it is sometimes living up there in the dark, she had moved up from the lower forty eight, but Steve was a third generation Alaskan, I was very privileged to evesdrop this conversation.
I had mentioned to Steve about my planned boat trip the next morning to see wildlife and a calving (falling ice) glacier and he told me on my next trip, I should plan going to a tiny town called Cordova, on Prince William Sound that is only reachable by ferry or plane where you can sit on the beach and watch the glacier calve all day, sounds perfect.
It was getting late so I bid my new Alaskan friends good night as I did not want to miss the boat, again.
The next morning dawned foggy as the day before but I had seen how quickly it changes from fjord to fjord. There were still only 16 bookings for our boat so things looked good. I saw the line of people queuing for the 8am boat which was the same size as the one I missed and was I ever glad of oversleeping. It would have been hell.
I felt positively naked when we boarded, I was dressed in jeans, long sleeve shirt and a windbreaker, everyone else must have had about 2 or 3 layers of artic gear with rain gear on top!!
As we motored out of the small boat harbour, we spotted our first bald eagle sitting on the coal conveyor off to our left and as we came about there was another sitting on the channel marker to our right, beautiful, noble and strong creatures with no fear of the passing boat.
We moved down the fiord, the backdrop of the low lying clouds on the surrounding mountains, with bright sunshine glinting off glaciers in the high valleys was very dramatic, it looked like a vision of Valhalla.
As we got out of the fiord past Fox Island and into Resurrection Bay, Ellen, the first mate, served up a breakfast of yogurt, fresh fruit and canola with coffee and told everyone to search the calm waters for signs of wildlife. It seemed to take for ever; I think we all thought they would be just there waiting in the bay for our enjoyment. But after an hour we finally spotted a humpback whale gracefully swimming along, it was beautiful to watch.
Further out into the bay we came upon the Chiswell Islands, where we saw dozens of sea lions, and literally millions of sea birds, the noise was incredible. Ellen was giving us a running commentary, what I found even more incredible was that some of them can dive to 400 feet underwater to fish, even the cuddly cute puffin can dive to 350 feet. During the winter, when these waters virtually freeze over, the birds will fly 4 to 500 miles south in the Pacific and winter there, not touching land for over 6 months.
We then motored up Aialik Bay to Aialik Glacier, it was very eerie, with a low lying fog and it was getting colder by the minute. Now I started to understand why all the passengers were wearing so many layers of clothing, but then I looked at Captain Joe and mate Ellen and they were not overly bundled so what the hell, how bad could it get!
After about half an hour of cautious sailing, the fog lifted and we were confronted with a 400 foot wall of ice, it was just an incredible sight and felt like standing in front of an open freezer door, WOW and the noise was also incredible. It creaked and groaned as large chunks fell away into the freezing arctic waters. We were bobbing in a sea of large ice chunks, just a ¼ mile from the glacier face. Local law prohibited us from going any nearer, Joe could not cut the engine to get the full noise effect, due to the fact that we might need full power any second, should a large enough piece calve to cause a wave which could swamp our small boat. I doubt if I, in my light clothing, would have lasted more than 40 seconds in that water but I would have loved to have experienced the glacier in total silence.
Glaciers are constantly moving, being pushed forward by pressure from above and move an average of 4 miles per day. We scooped up ice as it floated past the boat, it was so clear and pure looking, I could only think of making a martini or a gin n tonic.
Motoring back down the bay I noticed some kayaks beached on the shore. I asked Joe how they got here and he told me there are outfitters who will drop you off and then return to pick you up, weather permitting!! Now that would be the way to visit a glacier, maybe next time!
Exiting Aialik Bay we came upon a killer whale with her calf just frolicking in the open water, we heaved too to observe them, and then another passenger spotted 3 more, a couple of hundred yards off the port side. Joe was trying to decide whether we should move, when they changed course and came to join the mother and calf by us. It was a male and 2 females and all 5 swam around us for a few minutes before the male took off and the rest of the pod followed, what an exhilarating experience.
Heading back to Seaward, all of the passengers seemed content to huddle in the main cabin, sipping tea and soup as if the return leg offered nothing. I on the other hand grabbed a beer and sat up beside Joe in the wheel house. Joe and his ancestors have lived here all their lives making a living from the sea. He told me all about the great quake of March 27th 1964, which wiped out the town of Seaward, Joe happened to be in Kodiak that day, which also got hit but not as bad.
It took years of hard work, living through harsh winters in make shift shelters to rebuild the town, and the fishing industry, so when the tourist industry started to take off in the nineties, Joe literally jumped ship and traded his fishing net for a tour microphone.
Back on the dock at 5pm, I had ninety minutes till my bus to Anchorage, so I decided to have a bite to eat at Chinooks and was rewarded with the lovely Sandy being behind the bar. I told her all about my great day on the boat, with Joe and Ellen, of course she knew them, they usually come in most evenings after work, about 7ish, when the boat was all ship shape, alas I would be gone.
Naturally I ordered the chowder and followed it up with their Halibut cheeks cerviche, which was out of this world. I’ve had Grouper cheeks cerviche in Florida (I made it myself) but it was nothing on this. This was a taste explosion in my mouth; forget about lobster, this is seafood at its finest. Halibut cheeks are reason enough for a return trip, they never leave the dock! There just happened to be a couple of fishermen sitting down the bar and they agreed, it was the tastiest part of the fish and luckily for all the locals, when tourists catch Halibut, they only ask for the fillets, leaving all the good stuff for them and me.
Traveling on ones own has its benefits, firstly you don’t have to conform to other people’s requirements, and most importantly you usually get to ride up front on boats, shuttles and of course buses. This bus was no different, I grabbed the front seat and we had a good chat. He had retired from New Jersey to Florida, to take care of his mother, but for five months a year, he came to Alaska to supplement his income, driving a bus for the park shuttle service. I had seen a lot of buses zooming around with cruise line names on them, and asked if he had ever drove them? He had made inquires at the start of this season, but they require that you drive 13 out of 14 days, i.e. 1 day off every two weeks, sod that he said, “they pay more but I did not come here to kill myself”.
After 2 local stops we mutually ended the conversation as he hit the highway and put the hammer down, he was cruising at 80 mph and you have to keep your eyes on the road as an animal can wander out at any moment. He had had a few close calls, but none on this day.
We got into Anchorage around 9pm which was really good going, the bus stop was just a few blocks from the Econo Inn, so I was checked in by 9:30pm. Although it had been a long grueling day and I was pretty knackered, with it being full daylight I had no inclination to sleep, so I headed for my new favorite Mexican joint, La Cabana, for a couple of Margarita’s and some fish tacos, I would be able to sleep-in in the morning as I had reserved a rental car at the airport for noon.
Although I had wanted to sleep late I found myself wide awake at 8am with the bright sunshine outside. Well I had not seen much of Anchorage so now was as good a time as any, check out was not until eleven, so I had a couple of hours, figured I’d wander downtown and grab some breakfast, preferably consisting of salmon or halibut, but no such luck, every joint I went into, had an all you can eat breakfast buffet, yuck! So I settled for a Starbucks latte and their egg Mc muffin sandwich, the last thing I wanted, well almost last thing, Micky D’s or Burger King would have been worse but I had been walking for almost an hour.
There is nothing to downtown Anchorage, its all souvenir shops, so I headed back to the motel, grabbed my bag and took the shuttle to the airport.
Heading northeast out of Anchorage on route 1 there is some decent scenery but when you turn north onto route 3 through Wasilla the terrain gets very flat, green and boring, just as Steve had said, there was very little traffic after Wasilla so I just floored the rental, next stop Talkeetna, which is 115 mile from Anchorage and I managed to make it in under 2 hours.
Talkeetna is a cute little town that still looks like it probably did back in the gold rush days but now it is caught up in the tourist rush. I walked around the whole town in ten minutes and figured the only place I would set foot in, was the joint I had parked in front of, The West Pub & Grill; surely I would find some fish here for lunch. It looked a bit ominous when I walked in, as most people in the small garden appeared to be eating burgers, but a peruse of the menu offered a salmon filet with homemade slaw, sold, with a pint of Alaska Amber Ale.
Naturally I got talking to the bartender, Simon, and asked the obvious question, do you live here year round? No he only came up here five months of the year, tending bar 2 days a week and teaching kayaking the rest of the time. What he makes in the 5 months supports him in Costa Rica, surfing for the winter, very cool. My advice to him was to keep living that life as long as possible, you never know what is around the corner.
I got back on the road by 4pm, I wanted to be in Denali by 7 and it was 155 miles north, through what promised to be spectacular scenery. After about an hour I came upon the south Denali lookout point and got my first glimpse of the great mountain, even at over 120 miles away it was spectacular.
When I got to Denali just before 7pm it was just as Steve had described in Seward, “glitter gulch”. I came over a small rise on the highway and there laid out before me was a small valley chock full of condos, restaurants, fast food joints and souvenir shops, yuck, but a necessary by-product of Denali’s success.
All the condo/hotels in the area were priced at $175 and up per night, a little out of my range and not the kind of place I would like to stay anyway. Through some digging on the internet, I had found a cabin with shared bathroom facilities at The Salmon Bake for $50 per night, much more my speed and now I was pulling up outside.
The Salmon Bake is the largest, locally owner restaurant in the area and they were doing a thriving business, all 3 of their dining rooms were packed and there was a pungent smell of fish.
Reception was the cashier’s desk and upon production of my confirmation e mail I was handed the key to cabin 5 and a map to find it up in the woods, it wasn’t that far just a little complicated.
Up the hill I found 10 little canvas covered frame cabins connected by a wooden walkway surrounding a triple bathroom/shower house. Inside they were quite cozy, carpeted floor, small desk for writing postcards and 2 queen size beds with complimentary water bottles on each bed.
After getting my bearings and settling in, I wandered back down to the main building and was amazed that the whole place had emptied out, I suppose it’s just like this on the boats, cruise/herd mentality.
Upstairs the bar was equally as quiet, I ordered an Alaskan Blond (beer), fish chowder and grill Halibut n chips, excellent, after another few beers, I decided to have a wander around the neighborhood, you can’t really call it a town because I don’t think anyone actually lives there permanently
After about an hour I wandered back up the hill past the cabin site and found a small bar/restaurant called The Overlook, which was attached to the Crow’s Nest motel. They also had cabins but were made of logs and looked better decorated inside (I checked the web; they go for $199 per night). I stopped in for a quick nightcap and called it a day.
Next morning I was awake at 7am and decided to go for a long walk as I would be spending eleven hours on a bus for the rest of the day, I had booked the 9:30am trip to Wonder Lake, which is 90 miles into the park, and if Denali is out, there would be spectacular views. Private vehicles are not allowed past mile post 15 without a permit, there is a small parking lot there and it is a good spot to hike the Savage River.
At the bus depot, I was third in line, as I wanted one of the coveted left side window seats, which has all the best views for the outbound leg, when the bus pulled up I got the perfect seat, half way back with a full pane by my seat, but unbeknown to me, the couple I had been talking to behind me in the line, had a group of graduating high school seniors with them, and they all piled into the back. There were about eight girls in the group and they did not shut up for a second, after half an hour, if I had a gun, I would have shot them. At one point the driver stopped the bus and asked them nicely, to stop talking, one of them replied” we are college girls, we don’t stop talking”. No wonder we saw so few animals on the way out, we could be heard for miles.
The tension was broken when our bus pulled up beside another bus exiting the park and the two drivers leaned out to talk to each. After a few minutes our driver dug into his backpack and passed a jar of Grey Poupon to his fellow driver, he explained it had been a running joke between them all season and yesterday he had been in Anchorage and so picked up the mustard, very funny in the middle of nowhere, although not everyone got the joke, guess who!!
As we got into the park we got our first clear look at Denali from about 90 miles, it’s awesome to look at, something that big and that far away. The mountain makes its own weather systems at that altitude, and we did not see it again until we were about 40 away, now it really started to look overpowering. Our destination, Wonder Lake, is the closest the road gets to it at 24 miles, but looking at now the signs were not good that it would be out when we got there.
Sure enough when we got to the lake, Denali was totally engulfed in cloud, there was not much to do except eat lunch and have a wander around. The terrain was very flat and treeless, just a lot of tall shrubbery. From the top of a small knoll I could see there were a lot of people camping in small pup tents dotted around the area, waiting for that elusive glimpse of the mountain.
The bus only stays for 40 minutes but with the mountain socked in and the mosquito’s being pretty bad, there was no point staying the extra hour for the last bus of the day and beside the girls had finally quietened down. The return journey was pretty quiet, but with every seat taken it was very cramped. When we stopped at Toklat River, where the park service has a large tent set up to sell books and souvenirs, the driver announced we would be here for another 40 minute break. The drivers had a small tent to the side for them to take a break. So when I saw one exiting as ours entered I asked when he was leaving and if he had space, he had and I had 5 minutes. A quick toilet break, I grabbed my bag off the other bus and away we went.
This bus was virtually empty, with only about eighteen people on a fifty seater, I was going to take the back seat, but there was a family of six (Mum, Dad, 3 sons & 1 daughter, (boy, girl, boy, boy)) occupying the third and fourth rows from the back, so it seemed a bit rude to sit behind them. After about twenty minutes, the youngest son said he was tired, so Mum told him to lie down in the back, so I felt I had done the right thing. Two minutes later he is jumping up and down, hollering and waving 2 twenty dollar bills in his hands, he had found them on the floor, lucky bugger, that would have bought a nice bottle of Cloudy Bay to erase the memories of the yakkedy yak school girls.
I don’t know if it was having fewer people on the bus not making noise, or the time of day, but we saw a lot more wildlife on the return trip, two separate brown bear sightings, a family of Foxes, who’s den was just twenty yards from the road, two Moose that ran right in front of us and a Caribou, it was such a difference from the first bus.
Getting back to the bus terminal almost an hour ahead of schedule was a delight, I could have called the Salmon Bake Camp to send their shuttle, but decided to hoof it. When I was out walking earlier that day, I had seen a trail that lead to the park, but did not know where it came out, so I started walking around the parking lot looking for a trailhead, when I came upon a young guy looking for the same thing. We agreed where we thought it should be, and just as I was about to say, lets hike together, he took off into the woods like Bambi on speed, I tried to follow but within minutes, I was totally discombobulated and lost. The immediate thought of running into a bear any moment, suddenly became very real. I decided to backtrack and quickly realized, I had no idea in which direction I was going, for someone who always prides themselves on knowing their north’s and south’s, this was very disconcerting. All of a sudden I stumbled through some thick trees and found myself on the edge of a storm drain by the side of a road.
I was not sure which way was which, but I had the feeling I was facing south, so I turned to the left, as I wandered down the road a man appeared out of a side road about 500 yards ahead of me and just stood there. As I approached, I figured I could at least ask him if I was headed in the right direction, but as I drew closer, he shouted “are ya headed to town?, I replied “if towns this way, then that’s where I’m going”, it is he said, may I walk with you? sure!
After exchanging pleasantries and such (sorry I forgot his name) my new friend, explained that he was going to town to buy a new tent, as his had just been stolen, I was aghast. He had been hiking around Alaska for the past few months and just came upon this campsite at the entrance to Denali. He had booked a campsite for the night and someone stole his tent. I naturally thought that it had been erected, but no, he had just gone to the bathroom, left his pack and tent roll outside, but when he returned the tent was gone!! I explained this was not really a town in the normal sense, but merely a collection of hotels, motels, RV parks and eateries with one gas station. I don’t think there is a hardware or grocery store, so buying a tent would not be an option. He did not seem worried and started to ask about my trek into the park that day, and how far I had got. I explained about the bus system and he asked if there was a trail as he wanted to walk to Wonder Lake. Walk!! It was ninety miles through bear country. He reckoned it would take him 5 to 6 days and I calculated I would be back at work in New York by then. I have no idea if he ever made it or if he even got a new tent, but I thought of him often, especially when I saw a trailer for a new movie coming out “Into The Wild”.
The Salmon Bake was thankfully devoid of tourists when I got back, so I retired to the bar for a well deserved martini followed of course by the fish chowder and their seafood quesadilla, excellent as usual, I’m really getting spoilt on all this fantastic fish.
After a stroll around, I looked into the Overlook, but it had a very loud cruise type of crowd, so I decided to have an early night, write some postcards and get a quick start in the morning, it was after all my last day and I wanted to make the most of it.
While this trip was in the planning stages I had considered all the other “adventure” things to do while up here, white water rafting, I’d seen the river, it’s fast moving, but not white water. Four wheel all terrain vehicles, just did not seem very ecco friendly, so I just decided to drive into mile 15 of the park, leave the car and go hiking up the Savage River trail. Great move, there was nobody out there and the silence was deafening.
I drove back to the visitors centre for lunch, I had excellent Halibut n chips which really surprised me, as the concession is run by non other than Aramark, the global conglomerate, that ruined my trip to the Chinese Grand Prix in Shanghai.
There are a number of short hiking trails from the visitors center, I chose Horseshoe Lake, which is about 2 hours round trip and I was rewarded by the sight of 2 Moose cooling off from the afternoon heat with a frolic in the lake.
As you exit the park, there is one hotel, The Grande Denali Lodge, spectacularly positioned atop a mountain opposite, I thought I must have a cocktail there and get a panoramic photo, but first I was going to drive up to Healy.
Healy is a small town of approx one thousand people, just fourteen miles north of Denali, but out of the Alaska Mountain Range. It sits on the open tundra and the main industry is the coal mine. I had been talking to the bartender last night at the Salmon Bake, he was born and bred in Healy. His dad worked for the coal company, but he could not see himself going down that road. Last winter he had tended bar at The Totem Pole motel, which was pretty dead, so now with the money he was making he was going to Hawaii for the winter.
Needless to say there was not very much to see, so I just turned around and headed back. I just made it over the Nenana river bridge, when it was closed to all traffic due to the movement of a huge piece of machinery, that was being moved north, presumably to the coal mine. It was wrapped in white plastic, took up both lanes of the highway, was about 20 foot high by 40 foot long and sat in this immense trailer, that was cradled between two bogies, each with seven axles and eight wheels per axle, all being pulled by a Peterbilt truck, at approx 3 miles per hour. I stopped to watch it crawl over the bridge and noticed that the railroad ran above the other bank, and cut into a tunnel under the bridge. The railroad was built to Fairbanks back in the 1920’s, they did not get around to building the road until 1974.
Well it around 5:30pm by now and time for that pre dinner martini at The Grande Denali Lodge. There must have been at least eight switchbacks in the gravel road leading up the mountain, but what a view from the top, of course Denali itself was not out, it must be fantastic when it is. The lodge itself was nothing to look at, but when you step in the door to the lobby, wow! It was a huge cavernous room of gleaming varnished wood , reception desk to the right, gift shop to the left and straight ahead a lovely seating area in front of a huge fireplace. Past the fireplace was the bar and dining room which sat out over the cliff and had floor to ceiling windows on 3 sides offering dramatic views, I ordered an in&out Tanqueray martini up with a twist and the barmaid apologetically tells me they have no vermouth, NOOOOOO, who ever heard of a bar with no vermouth, I was outraged, it took the shine off the whole place. I opted for a gin n tonic, she did not even have a slice of lemon, I had to settle for lime, now I’m pissed off, this place is a sham.
I downed the drink and headed for home to The Salmon Bake, it might not be pretty or have great views but it sure knows how to do food and drink. Later that night I got talking to the young girl who was the bar back that night, she said she used to work there as a waitress and hated every minute of it, this she said was the place work even though she made less money, she was happy.
Bellying up to the bar I got my perfect martini, ordered the fish chowder, of course, followed by the Dungeness crab cakes, all washed down with a nice New Zealand, sauvignon blanc, heavenly, my last supper in Alaska.
After dinner I got talking to a couple of girls and they were working as chambermaids across the road at the Denali Princess Lodge, which they hated, they were filing applications at The Salmon Bake for next year.
Well that was it, time to hit the sack, I had to have the car back at Anchorage airport by noon, so I would have to up by 6, on the road by 7, so I could be in downtown Anchorage by 11 to eat before hitting the airport. I had noticed a place called the City Diner last week near the airport so I figured I’d try it.
What a great choice this turned out to be, there was a half hour wait for tables but I snagged a seat at the counter and ordered up some salmon hash with poached eggs. It was fantastic but I could not finish it, huge portions.
Well that was it, my last meal in Alaska, time to head for the airport, turn in the car and settle down in the Alaskan Airlines lounge, as I had a 3 hour wait for my flight.
The lounge was virtually empty and what a nice surprise to find they had Alaskan Blond on draught, I got a pint and settled down to watch The Battle of Britain on my DVD. When I went back to get another pint there was a wonderful fish smell in the air, when I inquired from the bartender, she informed me there was fresh fish chowder available in the kitchen, just help myself. Ah one last taste of Alaskan cooking.
I was originally scheduled to have a three hour lay-over in Seattle and had toyed with the idea of getting a cab downtown for a quick bite to eat at The Flying Fish but had to dismiss that idea when my flight out of Anchorage was delayed by 30 minutes.
Despite the delay, I was very impressed by Alaska Airlines, the lounge, staff and facilities were superb, but that was nothing compared to when I got on the plane. The flight crew were the most charming I have ever met and the service was impeccable. Good wines served in glasses, nice salmon and pasta served on china with real silverware, things that have gone missing on other major American airlines since September 2001.
Another nice touch in their first class, is that they hand out, preloaded personal DVD players, which contain about 20 movies, cartoons and a lot of nature shows about Alaska, as an alternative there was the spectacular scenery of the Alaskan and Canadian coastline, I must have counted at least eight cruise ships during the flight.
Landing at Sea Tac airport it turns out even if the flight had been on time I would not have had time to make it downtown, we pulled into the very last gate of the north terminal and when I checked the departure board, my Delta flight was leaving out of the last gate on the southern concourse A. The transfer would take 2 trains and a lot of walking about 40 minutes all told. As it was, I was only going to get about 45 minutes in the Delta Crown Room, but it was enough to have a couple of glasses of wine and watch a late Seattle Mariners rally, which failed against the visiting Red Sox.
My flight was being called and it was time to end my latest odyssey next stop was JFK and back to reality.

Japanes and Chinese F1 Grand Prixs 2005

2006-08-14T13:16:00.000-07:00

This is an account of my first trip to the Orient.
I have had a fascination with the Orient, particularly with Japan, since I was a child, but the distance and cost of getting there had always been a major roadblock in my plans. Added to that, were the stories of how expensive it is, not to mention finding someone with my same interests to travel with, so it is easy to see why it took fifty years to come to fruition.
Being a lover of Formula One racing since the early sixties, my friend Steven Whittle and I had been going to every race at The Indianapolis Speedway since they had brought racing back to the USA in 1999. After our successful mileage trip to Australia in 2002 to watch the World Cup, to which, Steve had flown via Japan, we decided it would be a great idea to go to the Japanese Grand Prix in Suzuka. At the time I was writing the Formula One column for a small sports orientated local newspaper, which I co-owned, called Home & Away, so I could write the trip off as a business expense.
Each year our group to Indianapolis got larger and by 2004 we were up to about ten guys, one of the newest members to our troupe, was a young Irishman, Dave Murray, who had only been in New York for a few years and not travelled much. When he heard of our plans, he asked if he could tag along, why not. We explained that we were doing this on our frequent flyer mileage and he said he had enough Delta miles to go in coach, I was using Delta miles for business class and Steve was using American Airlines miles for first class.
I volunteered to take care of the tickets and hotels once everyone confirmed they had secured flights, but when I looked at the race schedule for 2005, I discovered an anomaly in the calendar, usually races are staged 2 weeks apart to allow for travel, but the Chinese race was scheduled for the following Sunday. We could go to both on the same tickets; we would just use Tokyo as a stop-over to Shanghai. I proposed this to the guys and Dave was delighted but Steve could not get the extra time off work.
Tuesday Oct.4th 2005 dawned and it was a beautiful day, temperature in the sixties with nary a cloud in the sky, a great day to fly. I met up with Dave at La Guardia (LGA) airport to embark on the first leg of our trip, to Tokyo (Narita airport), Japan via Detroit.
Dave’s coach ticket and had originally been scheduled to fly direct from JFK to Narita but due to high fuel costs and low seat demand Northwest Airlines (Delta’s partner) had cancelled the flight just a few weeks prior to our departure and he been rebooked on my schedule. I was in Northwest Airlines First/Business and had always been scheduled to travel from LaGuardia via Detroit, for some reason they never gave me the choice of the direct flight.
As per usual for LGA the flight was delayed taking off and it would be touch and go if we would make the connection in Detroit. There were several passengers on board who had originally been scheduled for the direct flight out of JFK and we all made the staff aware of our plight. The Captain had originally informed us that we would be arriving at gate 28 and that the Narita flight was leaving from gate 70, a long hike. As we taxied along the terminal I spied gate 68 open and holy cow he pulled into it, the Captain had informed the tower of the large number of passengers connecting to the Japan flight, hence the new gate. Being in row A, I was first off the plane and ran to the next gate to inform them there were a lot of passengers making the connection. I waited to make sure Dave made it as he had been seated all the way in the back. He made it and with enough time for me to grab a quick glass of champers while he was questioned by Homeland Security, they somehow thought he was taking large sums of money out of the country!!
My seat-mate during the flight worked for XM radio and was being sent to Seoul, Korea, to investigate the possibilities of opening a station there. This was an incredible chalk and cheese situation, I would love if someone paid my freight, especially in First/Business class to go explore The Orient, whereas it was a massive inconvenience for him, he would not like the food, was not sure if he would be able to find a McDonalds and he was missing several important college football games. Needless to say he only ordered American cuisine on the flight, whereas I ordered everything I could not pronounce.
Upon our arrival in Narita, it was now Wednesday approx 5:30pm local time (4:30am NY), Steve was waiting outside customs, he had arrived an hour before us and promised to locate an ATM machine and the train to Tokyo, obviously he had been very bored for an hour as the Citibank ATM was approximately thirty feet away and the train was at the bottom of the escalator next to the ATM, we got some yen and caught the next Narita Express to Shinjuku, Tokyo.
Shinjuku, an area of Tokyo, which has a reputation as a red light district, is a warren of small streets and alleys with no names, but I had an idea where our hotel was, so long as we came out the northeast corner of the station. This said naturally we got on at the rear of the train and ended up at the southwest corner of the station. I should point out here that Shinjuku railway station is one of the largest and busiest in the world, not just Japan, handling over 2 million people a day.
Exiting Shinjuku station is a complete assault on all of your senses, your eyes try to comprehend all the huge video screens and endless rows of multi coloured neon lights, your ears are deafened by the cacophony of music coming from every direction, the enormous crowds stampede you and the smells are intoxicating, WOW Tokyo.

Although quite disorientated we eventually found the right end of the station and preceded in the direction of the hotel, which was supposed to be a 5 minutes walk, but we found it in 10 and only had to cut through a small section of the red light district. Thankfully The Vintage Hotel was set a few blocks away from all the chaos, across the street from a hospital and a baseball batting cage, a strange combination. The Vintage had the smallest rooms I have ever been in, they make Manhattan studio apartments look like mansions, but what do you expect for $75 a night in Tokyo. What really caught my eye was in the bathroom, there were all sorts of buttons and dials on the side of the toilet, this I had to try, when you sat down it flushed and when you are finished, it washes you with a stream of warm water and of course there is the option of front or back! No wonder they think western hygiene habits are barbaric.
It was now around 9pm and we quickly threw our bags in and headed out for a well deserved beer. Within a few minutes we came across a small Irish pub, The Angel, in the basement of a trendy boutique shopping plaza, gasping for repast we entered an sure enough it was a little bit of Ireland in Japan, people playing darts and watching football (soccer) on the television, they even had Guinness on draught, but we opted for the local brew and ordered 3 Asahi draughts.
After a few beers we set out to see what the neighborhood was like. We were right on the edge of the Red light district and there was neon everywhere, lots of massage parlours, clubs of every persuasion, shot bars (liquor only) and sake bars, but not much in the way of regular pubs. We eventually opted for another Irish pub, Dubliners, a theme chain which was terrible, one drink and we were out the door.
After wandering around for a little while longer and being badgered by African guys trying to persuade us to go into their clubs, we came across a Scottish bar called, Hazelburn, and so in we went. It was very dark and there were no westerners, which was a plus. Nobody spoke any English, but they made us very welcome at the bar and we ordered 3 Speckled Hens (English beer), they had no local beer. Upon looking at the menu we found everything was western, but what really caught our eye was the Haggis Brushetta! Well curiosity and hunger deemed we order some, with a couple of portions of fish n’ chips, it was all very good.
Being a Scottish bar they naturally had a great assortment of Scotch whiskies and it was brilliant to watch the bartender take about 10 minutes to mix a scotch and water. The whiskey was placed in the bottom of a large but narrow based glass, a large orb of ice was then placed above it but not actually touching the whiskey and the water was drizzled very slowly over the ice while it was constantly stirred. The whiskey never touches the ice until you take a sip, incredible attention to detail for such a basic drink.
We sampled a few single malts and the prices were very reasonable, I had heard that single malts cost a fortune in Japan but these were cheaper than New York and a few even cheaper than Edinburgh. It was now around midnight and I was feeling exhausted, so I left the boys there and headed back to the hotel fighting my way through the African pimps.
Wednesday morning I was up bright and early and decided to take a walk around the neighbourhood, it was incredibly, there were 10 McDonalds within a 6 block radius and about half a dozen Starbucks. I thought about my seat-mate from the flight and hoped he had found such a bounty in Seoul.
The lads arose at nine and we went to the station to activate our Japan Rail passes and book seats from Nagoya to the track in Suzuka. Unfortunately there were only a few remaining and we had to settle for the 7:16am which would make for a very long day at the track. The office to activate the passes did not open until 11am so we took a ride to Shibuya in search of an ex-pat bar that advertised they show English football. We could not find it so returned to Shinjuku station and got our rail passes. We had a listing for another footy bar one subway stop away at the other end of Shinjuku so we went looking for that and actually found it, but they did not open until 5pm. This was a very local area devoid of tourists so we decided to find someplace for lunch. We found a small place which had the New York Yankees vs California Angels, American League baseball play-off game on TV, but it was packed, so we settled for a little place around the corner. Three sushi lunch specials and two large beers was only 2400 yen which is about $23, who said Tokyo is expensive.
For the afternoon we decided to explore the JR over ground train system and see how to get to Tokyo station as we had early reservations on the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Nagoya. on Saturday morning. From the station it was a twenty minute walk to the Imperial Palace, but upon arrival we found it was closed, but the grounds open, we walked around for a while but totally missed the Japanese Gardens.
From the palace it was another twenty minute walk south to the Ginza area and a visit to Bic camera store, supposedly the largest in the world. They had some amazing stuff but I think J&R in New York, actually beat their prices. It was now well past beer time so we headed back to the footy pub which was open.
The place was owned by an Aussie from Melbourne and was an electrical firetrap, literally hundreds of wires all over the place plugged into extension cords. Anyway he had Asahi on draft and gave us directions to the other footy pub, Footniks, as the place was empty we stayed for a few.
Now the reason we were so emphatic about finding a footy bar was the following Wednesday night England were playing Poland in their final World Cup qualifier and it could be a crucial game depending on the result against Austria on Saturday.
On Saturday we were scheduled to be in Nagoya, I had found a pub through the internet and already e-mailed the manager, Tommo, to confirm the England vs Austria game was being shown, although now with a 7am train to the track we might have to forgo the match, which kicks off at 12:45am local time.
After a rest and shower we decided to go find Footniks which was actually in Ebisu one stop further than Shibuya. We had rough directions, out of the station 2 blocks and make a right except of course we came out the wrong station exit, again, anyway after wandering around without any luck for 20 minutes we decided upon a hip looking Japanese restaurant to eat. A selection of appetizers, 3 excellent main courses and 2 bottles of good sake a grand total of 8950 Yen which is about $78, fantastic.
After dinner we went in search of and found Footnik, it was actually a Liverpool supporters pub, but after chatting with the manager he assured us the England vs Poland game would be shown, on the 12th @ 3:45am.
By now it was getting rather late and we realized that the last train back to Shinjuku would be leaving soon so we hightailed it to the station and just made it. These are the trains you have seen on the television and in movies, with people getting packed in, I almost could not breath.
Anyway we made it back and went looking for the Scottish bar, Hazelburn, for a nightcap but none of us could remember exactly where it was and now the African boys were really setting their sights on us, which really annoyed me. Two of them were having a go at Steve & Dave when I spotted a sign for a rock n roll basement bar called “Mothers”, I signaled the lads to follow me and down the stairs we went, incredible! Heavy metal being played at full volume and only about 4 people sitting at the 8 stools with a salary man at the end of the bar with his date shouting “s*ck my c*ck” in time with the music.

After a couple of beers I was feeling knackered but Steve and Dave were loving the place, so I left them there. It is now one of Steve’s all-time world favorite bars.
We had agreed to meet up at 9am to take a trip to the mountain region of Hakone but Steve was looking a little worse for wear and cried off, (he had closed Mother’s at 4:30am.). So Dave and I headed off into the unknown.
Trying to enter Shinjuku station against the out pouring hoards during rush hour is a daunting task but we managed to battle our way in and grab some breakfast sandwiches and coffee before the 10am train to Odawara. The first class cars on these regional trains are excellent, it was a double decker with panoramic windows and reclining seats.
Upon our arrival in Odawara we could see it was very misty up in the mountains and we would probably not see Mount Fuji so we just bought a couple of bus passes and jumped on, not knowing where we were going, hey we were on an adventure. We sat in the back row to get the best possible views and an elderly couple who had been sitting across from us on the train sat down next to us again. The woman was eager to start a conversation as she was taking English lessons; she asked where we were from and why we were in Japan. She was fascinated when I told her we lived in Manhattan and asked if I had been to Greenwich Village. When I told her I lived there she was in awe, she had heard of all the jazz clubs, the Blue Note, the Vangaurd etc. They were going to visit their son who was a hotel manager up in the mountains and attend their grand children’s kindergarten sports day.
The bus trip took an hour up through spectacular scenery ending at Lake Ashi which has 2 replica junks for tours which we declined, as it was rather misty, likewise with the Ariel tramway from which you can glimpse Mt.Fuji.
Back in Odawara we decided to take the Shinkansen (Bullet Train) back to Tokyo as the local from Shinjuku had taken 90 minutes and this would only take 25 plus it was our chance to get one up on Steve. The first class seats on the Shinkansen are like airline first class and defiantly well worth the extra few bucks, kudo’s to Steve on this one. From Tokyo station we decided to take the JR Chuo line back to Shinjuku and it was much quicker than either the subway or the Narita Express.
Back at the hotel we met up with Steve who had spent a leisurely afternoon at the Meiji shrine in Yoyogi Park and even had a prayer said for somebody to please beat Chelsea!
At this point we had no set plans for Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday next week following the race but now decided we all definitely wanted to return to Tokyo for our last night, so we inquired about an extra night only to find the hotel was fully booked, but they did recommend The Kent, which was half way to the station, we got 3 rooms for $80 a piece. A beer was now definitely in order and there was a Hub around the corner. These are a chain of English style pubs but without the ex-pats. Happy hour was in progress and the clientele seemed to consist mostly of shop girls, very easy on the eyes. When happy hour ended a lot of them drifted off and the remaining ones were joined by their boyfriends so it was time to start thinking about dinner.
We took a train one express stop up to Ikebukuro, It was a bit of a damp drizzly evening and after wandering around for a bit we found a small Irish bar in a cellar that had a band advertised out front. The band did not look like much so after a couple of beers we went in search of food. We spotted this place a few minutes away that looked interesting so in we went. In side the door there was a menu with pictures of the food and a machine that you ordered from, you punched in the numbers, it gave you a total, you paid and it spat out some tickets which you gave to a waitress. Japan’s answer to fast food, except it was really good. Dinner including a beer was about 1200 Yen, approx $11, yeah Japan is really expensive!
We walked back to our hotel down some very dark allies but we never felt threatened, there were lots of little restaurants and bars with just a few seats in each and fantastic odors wafting out the doors. At the hotel we decided to have a nightcap at a little local place rather than run the gauntlet of the African lads. A couple of salary men at the bar got a great kick out of me trying to order sake and the barmaid was beside herself in laughter, One of the men spoke a little English and explained it was not a sake bar, I knew that but it didn’t hurt to ask, oh well it gave them a chuckle.

Saturday morning and we check out of the hotel at 8am in order to catch the 9:05am Shinkansen from Tokyo station to Nagoya. The plan was to get to Nagoya at 11:05 pop the bags into a locker and catch the 11:30 train to the track for qualifying. Well you know what happens to the best laid plans of mice and men, correct; we could not find any empty lockers! So we were forced to abandon qualifying and go looking for our hotel, another little adventure. This time when we exited the subway I had no clue which way it was even though I had a crude map which Japan Travel had faxed me. Dave took matters in hand and marched into a nearby 711 with the map and came back with directions, it was about 7 blocks away, sorted.
Before I left New York I had inquired on various websites looking for football bars and in Nagoya I had found Shooters, whom I had contacted and received a reply from the manager Tommo with directions from our hotel.
Upon our arrival at Shooters the place was packed as several World Cup qualifiers were already on the telly so we squeezed into a corner and ordered some beers. I inquired of the Aussie at the door where Tommo was and told him who I was, well a couple of minutes later a round of shooters (Kamikaze’s in Japan!) arrived and then mysteriously a great table with views of all the screens was offered to us. Naturally we had to accept and then Tommo made his appearance and thanked me profusely for coming all the way from New York. Now we were stuck, I should never have said a word. We would at least have to stay and eat something and all they had was traditional English/Australian pub fare, yuck! I had an auzzie meat pie and if I remember right Steve and Dave had fish n chips but there was no way we were staying for the England game at midnight with a 6am alarm for a seven o’clock train. I made my apologies to Tommo and we walked back to the hotel hoping to see at least another bar on the way for a nightcap but no such luck, a couple of beers from the 711 and an early night.
Sunday morning at 6:30am and the Nagoya subway is already more crowded than the New York City transit at mid-afternoon on a weekday. The platform at the Nagoya JR station was packed with race fans, but fortunately our first class rail passes came in handy again, we were in the front car of a very cool sightseeing train with a virtual all glass surround and huge comfy seats. Well Steve and I were, we could only get 2 first class seats and 1 in regular, very graciously the lads said I should take one of the first class seats as I had organized everything and they drew straws for the other, Dave lost.
As this was a special train and regular traffic had preference on the single track, a relatively short journey took over an hour, we got to Suzuka circuit around 8:30 which was fine with us as the race was not scheduled to start until 2pm. There was a tremendous carnival atmosphere about the place and it seemed virtually everyone had either Honda or Toyota colours on, and they were buying more by the armful. A barra bhoys (a London market trader) dream.
Our seats were located at the entrance to turn one, just at the end of the pit exit line, a superb spot and one of the best overtaking parts of the track. Naturally we had a celebratory beer to mark the occasion and then split up to explore the circuit.
A fantastic wave of aromas sweep over you as you wander around, small stalls everywhere offering tempting morsels of whose origin I had no idea, but what the hell, they were all 3 to 400 yen ($3.50-$4) so I tried everything. When I got back to the seats around noon I was totally full. Steve then starts telling me about an amazing dish he just had of noodles, veggies and fried egg but there was no way I could squeeze one in.
It was a very hot day, which was totally unexpected, fortunately I had brought a hat but Dave hadn’t and it was costing him dearly. When we split up to explore I told him to get a hat but he delayed and now his head looked like a volcano interior.
We were the only westerners in our grandstand, we had seen others while wandering around, but they must have all been sitting in the main stands, probably having bought their tickets through F1 Tours. I had purchased ours directly from the track, which had been quite a challenge, but now so worth it.
Everyone around us were so optimistic of a Japanese victory, what with Ralf Schumacher’s Toyota on pole, Jensen Button’s BAR- Honda second and local hero Takuma Sato’s BAR-Honda in fifth, but unfortunately it all started to unravel right from the get go. Ralf got off to a flyer but Sato was forced wide at the start in turn one and had to pit immediately, then on lap ten he forced Trulli’s Toyota off the track ending his day. Ralf got passed in the pits on lap 26 and finished eighth, Button could only manage fifth. Sato did finish last of the runners but was later disqualified for the incident with Trulli.

Although all the locals were very disappointed this was one of the greatest races ever and the high point happened right in front of us. Kimi Raikkonen pulled off the most astonishing win of his young career, starting from seventeenth on the grid, due to an engine change on Friday, and abysmal rain conditions during Saturday qualifying, he stormed through the field to overtake Giancarlo Fisichella going into turn one on the final lap to take the win and kept McLaren’s constructors title chances alive until the final race of the season, next week in Shanghai, which Dave and I were traveling on to. Steve was not joining us as the American Advantage miles program could not do the routing and the cost of an extra ticket between Tokyo and Shanghai was prohibitive.
We were unable to secure return tickets on a special train and therefore had to make a run for the station as soon as Kimi crossed the finish line. There was a long line when we got to the station but when the first train pulled out we were in position to make the second and luckily did so, Dave was about to pass out from sun-stroke. Unfortunately for Dave like the morning train this one also got stopped a lot and took over an hour to reach Nagoya.
When we got back to the hotel we were all pretty knackered, Dave was done for the day, I had to write my column for Home & Away and Steve was left to his own devices.
Around 9:30 I was almost finished my column and went out to the 711 to grab a snack and bumped into Steve at the traffic light, he was heading to an Aussie bar that someone had tipped him off about. So I joined him and it was a quiet last night in Nagoya.

For the next couple of days we had no set plans so we decided to make Osaka our base, it was only an hour away on the Shinkansen, from there we could visit Hakara, Hiroshima and Kyoto I had looked on the internet and there appeared to be plenty of hotels near Shin Osaka station so we hopped on the nine o’clock train, Dave was feeling a lot better and on the way to Osaka we decided to spend the rest of the day riding the rails after we found a hotel, we figured we could make it down to Hakara with a stop in Hiroshima and back in 8 hours but what we had not figured was that Monday was a national holiday and all the seats on the Shinkansen were reserved.
For once we came out the right side of the station and I spotted the New Osaka Hotel, it was right across the street and they had 3 rooms @ Y8,000 ($69) per night, pretty good for a walk up rate. Asiarooms.com had quoted $65 online.
So with all the south bound trains booked we decided to head for Kyoto as it was only fifteen minutes on the Shinkansen. At the tourist information booth we picked up a map and the agent outlined all the major shrines and temples, although there were signs pointing towards a sightseeing tour bus we were unable to find it, so we headed for the subway to figure out which sites were accessible. Kyoto Imperial Palace was only 3 stops and then Heian-Jingu shrine was a 15/20-minute walk from there, so off we went. Kyoto is a beautiful clean city as befits the ancient capital.

The Imperial Palace was very disappointing but the gardens at the Heian-Jingu shrine were a harmonious blend of stone and plant allotments, sculpted evergreen trees, all interwoven between Lilly ponds with stepping stones from bank to bank.
Upon our return to Osaka we headed downtown and decided to check out the local ex pat bars, first we looked for Murphy’s, but could not find it, so we went looking for the Pig & Whistle, which we found courtesy of a large Union Jack. After a few beers we consulted another pub guide and it showed Murphy’s on a better map, we had been right beside it but did not look-up high enough, it was on the seventh floor which is typical in Japanese cities. We decided to give it another shot and thank god we did as Michael the manager/bartender sent us to a great restaurant for dinner.
Michael was from Foxrock, south Dublin and had gone to Australia six years ago to visit his sister who is married to a Japanese man there. After a few months he decided to head home but wanted to go via Japan so naturally asked his new brother-in-law for some advice. Turns out his brother-in-law owns the bar and made Michael the manager, he has been there ever since.
We had noticed that every bar we had been in Japan so far had Guinness on draft, so we asked Michael about it and he said it was very good, but not until at least 4 or 5 pints had been pulled. Dave and I were up for it but Michael had only pulled 2 pints so far, it was a holiday Monday! Anyway we were getting hungry so we asked for some local recommendations and Michael sent us to his favorite place, at which he explained they spoke no English, hell we were getting used to that.
Well we found it easily enough and of course they wanted to take us downstairs to the traditional style room where you sit cross legged on tatami mats, I showed them that my leg did not bend and they took us back upstairs, everybody saving face. We ordered some sake and three different meat/noodles/broth dishes and they were superb and so cheap Y7800 about $67 for the lot.
After dinner we walked around to get a better look at downtown Osaka and then had to find a subway before they closed.
Tuesday morning we caught the 10am Shinkansen to Hakata on the southern island of Kyushu, you can actually catch a ferry here to Pusan in South Korea. We had basically done the 3 hour trip to see the countryside and visit Hiroshima. Well we did not see as much scenery as we thought we would, southern Japan is very mountainous and the high speed train was in and out of tunnels every couple of minutes.
In Hakata we had an hour till the return train so we looked at the map, picked canal city as a likely destination and headed in that direction. It was a 20 minute walk and surprisingly we found a nice shrine there.
Back at the station we grabbed some box lunches for the journey to Hiroshima. Every station kiosk sells them and they are excellent value for money, a mix of sushi and noodles from Y700 to Y1200. Yeah it’s a real expensive place alright.
At Hiroshima the A bomb memorial and museum were clearly sign posted via a tram which took about 10/12 minutes. It’s an eerie feeling riding through a city that was totally demolished less that sixty years ago and is now completely rebuilt.
The Atomic Bomb & Peace Memorial Park which is a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage Site, is a deeply moving emotional place that makes you examine your conscience. The dome building at the north end of the park was the only structure left standing afterwards, as the bomb had detonated directly overhead, instantly cremating everything in a one kilometer radius. When a lady who was saying prayers , spotted us, she insisted on bestowing upon each of us a blessing!

It was a quiet reflective train ride back to Osaka.
That evening we went looking for another ex pat bar we saw on the map, The Covent Garden, which turned out to be a really nice Canadian bar in a quiet neighborhood of small restaurants and boutiques . It was about a ten minute walk west of the Pig n Whistle. After a few Asahi’s we headed back towards the Pig n Whistle area which is where all the neon and brashness starts.
Getting hungry, I was all for going back to the same place as last night, there were a lot of other items on the menu to taste but the others were into trying something different and different was what Steve got. It wasn’t late, around 9:30 but we noticed a lot of restaurants were starting to close up so they opted for a very garish looking place with some 4 floors, the food getting more elaborate and expensive the higher you went. I know this because there was a large showcase outside with plastic samples & prices per floor. We opted for the ground floor plastic tables and chairs and the food was quite good, but the fun was watching Steve eat his while the bowl of broth had a fire underneath of petroleum jelly, that you could not put out, Niagara falls was coming off his forehead while he tried to slurp his way through it. Thank god Murphy’s was only around the corner when he finally finished it. He said it was great and I’m sure it was, just very difficult to eat.
Next morning we caught the 10am Shinkansen to Tokyo which is a nice relaxing 3 hour run with limited stops. Upon arrival in Tokyo it felt like home, familiar surroundings, we just hopped on the Chuo line and were in Shinjuku in 20 minutes. After throwing the bags in the hotel we decided to go see the shrine where Steve had his Chelsea prayer said.
Harajuku is just 2 local stops down the line going towards Shibuya, what a great street scene, it was the St. Marks place of Tokyo, except better. As we walked towards the shrine I got stopped by two young reporters and asked if I would do a quick interview for Radio Tokyo, for which I was only to happy to oblige. They asked questions like where I had been in Japan, what I thought of the country/food/culture and what had inspired me to come. Well when I told them I had come from New York for the Formula 1 they thought it was fantastic and I told them we adored their country. All the time I did not know I was under the watchful eye of a giant David Beckham billboard, brilliant.
I wonder if it was ever broadcast?
The shrine was very nice and Steve checked to make sure some wayward Chelsea fan had not disturbed his prayer plaque, it was intact and as of writing this in early November they have been beaten twice and drawn once but not in the Premier League, still he has a chance this weekend when they play his beloved Manchester United.
Back out in Harajuku we spotted a football shop and of course had to have a look, England and Premier League club shirts were over a $100 each, knock offs in Shinjuku were $10 each. United had been in Japan on their pre-season tour so, Steve and Dave were able to pick-up lots of little souvenirs.
Back on the street we followed the crowd and found ourselves walking down what is known as Fashion Alley, WOW. The girls fashion here is out of this world and this is 4pm on Wednesday afternoon, apparently Sunday is the day to be here when they all really dress-up outrageously, well we will just have to go back.
We adjourned back to The Hub in Shinjuku for happy hour and to grab a quick shower at the hotel. It was our last night in Tokyo and we did not want to waste any of it.
We had not been to the Roppongi area yet but it is notorious for strip clubs and there were enough of them where we were, so we decided to head for Shibuya and a pub called The Aldgate. We actually found it very easily and they had a decent selection of beers except most of them were British, but there were a couple of local micro brews, which were pretty good.
There was a young single girl sitting next to me drinking a pint of Guinness and naturally I had to ask her how she acquired a taste for it, a friend had turned her on to it some years ago and she thought this place served one of the best pints. She visited a few times a week for the black nectar and the music. The bar had one of the best music collections I have ever seen, over 6,000 vinyl/CD albums, in between pulling pints they play any requests.
Well we could not leave Tokyo without a revisit to our new favorite pubs, Hazelburn and Mother’s, so back to Shinjuku we headed and made it to Hazelburn by midnight running the gauntlet of the African pimps.. After a few pints of Speckled Hen, some Haggis Bruchette and a few single malts, we went in search of Mother’s. In the labyrinth of small lanes none of could remember where it was. So after half an hour and finding ourselves standing out side our hotel, I gave up and retired for the night. Steve and Dave pressed on but Dave gave up ten minutes later and of course you know it, Steve found it around the next corner.
The next morning we checked out of the hotel at eleven and had three hours to kill until the train to the plane (Narita Express). First we went to visit the Takashimaya Department store which has an open roof garden and great views of the Tokyo skyline. Then it was off to find the little lunch place we had found the first day. After another successful meal we retired to the station and just sat outside on the plaza for a while which is something we should have been doing everyday, the people watching was incredible.

Now in all our travels up and down Japan on every kind of transport we had never once heard anyone talking on their cell phone. Everybody had them in their hands with their thumbs twitching away but no talking. Well we are on the Narita Express from Shinjuku and at Tokyo station a big guy gets on and I said to Dave “ spot the yank” and sure enough he sat down behind Steve, pulled out his cell and started talking to a friend, REALLY LOUD. Everyone in the car were putting their fingers to their lips but he took no notice and American’s wonder why nobody likes them when they travel!
At Narita we went our separate ways, Steve with his AA Platinum card was eager to try all the One World first class lounges. He had researched them on flyertalk.com and each one had different strengths, Cathy Pacific obviously for its food, I think British Airways for the drinks and I’m not sure if American had any, I might be wrong.
Dave and I were on a different concourse for Northwest, on a business class ticket I had access to their lounge and I tried to get Dave in, but too no avail.
The flight to Shanghai was fairly uneventful, but I did manage to put away the best part of a bottle of decent California cabernet with dinner, much to the steward’s angst and all the time enjoying The Commitments, which I was very surprised to see NWA had in their video library.
Upon landing I had about a 15 minute wait for immigration but poor Dave had a much longer wait. While waiting I found an ATM and looked about transportation into Shanghai, which is approx an hours taxi ride and maybe two hours on public transport. The newly opened Maglev train which runs at an incredible 275mph only operates between 9am and 5:30pm so would not even be of any use to us on our return as we had to be at the airport next Tuesday at 8am.
I checked out the taxi line and while there were plenty of them they were very small looking Volkswagens, Back inside the terminal I was approached by a young guy in an official uniform who inquired which hotel I was going to and that he could arrange transportation in a large sedan for 500 Yuan ($60).I knew the taxi fare should be in the range of 200 Yuan but being tired from the flight and knowing Dave had been squashed in the back the thought of an hour cramped in the back of a small Volkswagen was not very appealing, so I said yes and told him to hang on till my friend came through.
When Dave came out we told him to bring the car around and we see whether it was worth 500Y and it was, nice silver Acura. Not only was it comfortable but he got us to our hotel in 40 minutes, we thought he was trying out for the race on Sunday but little did we know this was tame compared to what we would encounter in the next few days.
As it turns out the Maglev train and New York’s train to the plane have a lot in common, both go to the airport and neither goes downtown. Just like N.Y. you have to take a subway to the airport train albeit a state of the art German engineered magnetic levitated train which has a top speed of 275 mph but what good is that when you are schlepping bags up and down stairs and escalators.
We checked into The Metropole Hotel, an old colonial building just a few blocks off The Bund, which was the heart of the Tai-Pan’s economic zone during the nineteenth century. Tai-Pan’s were the CEO’s of mostly British, French, Portuguese and Dutch companies that traded all the goods out of China to Europe
After throwing the bags in the rooms naturally we headed out for a few libations thinking we would just find some place and not bothering to ask at the desk, adventurous, yeah. Well it was rather dark outside, they do not have great street lighting, but we pressed on towards Nan-Jing Rd. There was a Mickey Dee’s on the corner which had rather a large crowd both inside and out. This did not look good, people gathering at McDonald’s at 10:30pm as a social hangout.
We pressed on a few blocks and then made a right turn, back in the direction of the hotel, this street was even darker and al of a sudden a couple of guys came out of the shadows offering to take us to bars, the first guy offered us a girlie bar but we said no, and the second guy offered to take us to a beer bar, so we followed him, but it turned out to be a girlie bar or to be more exact a brothel. We graciously declined and headed back to the hotel, grabbing a couple of cold beers on the way at a 711 (Lawson’s), we were tired and figured we have an early start in the morning.
I had read in the Shanghai Daily on the plane, that getting to the track last year had been a disaster. Only the night before the race had it was decided to provide free public buses, but nobody knew about them, so every body drove. This year they organized the buses well in advance and announced that they would leave from 4 central locations around the city. We showed the locations to the desk clerk in the hotel and asked her to write the address of the nearest in Mandarin so we could get a taxi.
Wow what a ride we had in the taxi, people think New York taxis are mad, they have nothing on these guys, and in fact the whole traffic situation is just plain chaos. Then when we got up on the elevated highway, more wow’s, the skyline was just spectacular, everyway you turned there was just more spectacular buildings and it went on and on into the suburbs.
When we got to Shanghai Stadium there was an incredible amount of buses but virtually nobody getting on them, we walked right on to the first bus and it left half empty. Once we got out of the city we were on virtually empty highways but it was a long ride, ninety minutes later we finally got to the track, it is in the middle of nowhere but at the rate that China is building it will be a suburb of Shanghai in a few years.
The track is absolute state of the art, this being only the second race at the facility, but there is one major flaw; they gave the catering contract to an American company, Aramark. Hamburgers, hot dogs, ham & cheese hero’s and one concession to Asian cuisine, chicken curry which did not look to appetizing. All the soft drinks were Coke Cola products and Fosters the sole beer supplier. In the Fosters tent behind the main grandstand it was very funny; when you walked up to the bar 10 little Chinese girls would all shout Ga’day, very cute. All in all, a disastrous culinary experience.
The second major disaster was the inflexibility of the police and security. During Friday and Saturday practice/qualifying you were only allowed to enter the facility through the gate marked on your ticket and could only sit in your designated seat. One of the major attractions of coming to the track on Friday and Saturday is the fact that you can wander around and experience the cars at various viewing points which can in turn influence your future purchase of tickets.
As a case in point the first year of a grand prix at the Indianapolis Speedway, 1999, Steve and I purchased seats in the southwest vista just before the final turn onto the main straight and at the entrance to the pit lane. Right away on Friday afternoon we hated the views and started looking for alternatives finally ending up at the other end of the track at the northwest vista which had views of the first six turns and we have been in those seats ever since. Looking down the track on race day, the southwest vista stand is totally empty.
After practice ended we decided to head back to Shanghai pronto as there was no point in sticking around, they would not even let you into the main grandstand after the cars had retired for the day.
Hopping on a bus in the same parking lot as we had disembarked we assumed it was heading back to Shanghai Stadium. After a very circuitous route through some very poor and dubious neighborhoods it was dark when we got back to the city and we did not immediately realize we were at a different stadium. We tried to walk around it, but it soon became obvious that was not an option and that was when we twigged it. Of course it was six o’clock on a Friday evening and like any busy city there was not a taxi to be seen anywhere. We had no clue where we were and lucked out when we saw a subway. This was a lot luckier than you would think in a city of ten million; they only have four subway lines, one each, north, east, south and west. This was the north one and we were able to get a train to Shanghai Railway Station which I knew was not that far from our hotel area.
Outside the main station it was murder trying to get a taxi, unlike the Japanese people who queue orderly, the Chinese are very rude and pushy, so when in Rome, do like the locals and give as good as you get. Within minutes we were on our way. Now I thought we had seen some amazing sights on the bus but they were nothing compared with some of the back alley’s this driver took, it was like going back 300 years and then he turns the corner, goes up the freeway entrance ramp, and you are back in the heart of a 21st century city, unbelievable.
.
Safely back at the hotel and after a quick shower it was time to see Nan Jing Road, Shanghai’s version of Time’s Square. Well it did not disappoint, enough neon to rival the best of them, Time’s Sq., Las Vegas and Shinjuku. As we walked up the street everybody wanted to sell us a Rolex watch, some wanted to sell CD’s and DVD’s and a few even wanted to sell their sisters!
After about twenty minutes of this crap, but what seemed like an eternity, we were gasping for a couple of cold beers and realized we had not seen one bar or anything even resembling one. Finally we spotted a bamboo tikki bar and dived in just to get away from the watch sellers whom were as eager as the African boys in Shinjuku at plying their trade.
Upon getting a couple of beers we realized in keeping with the tikki hut theme the place had no windows and all the watch sellers were congregated outside. Now in the front window were about 10 English guys who were being barracked by them, but one lad was taking charge and announced to all the watch boys that they would buy one watch in turn from each of them and if it passed their tests they would then purchase all that sellers watches.
Fair enough, all the boys agreed and the first Rolex was bought without any haggling for 100 Yuan ($12.50), the guy immediately dunks it into a pint of beer and declares the watch a failure, throws it back at the seller and shouts NEXT. The next lad offers his Rolex, gets his unquestioned 100Yuan and it receives the same treatment with the same results. A couple of the lads wander off knowing their watches don’t stand a chance but a few remain. The next watch gets the same treatment with again the same result and of course you would think this is the way it will go on all night until either the Brits fun kitty runs dry or they just tire of the game.
Well one young boy was still proudly offering his Rolex and it was dually bought and dunked, but low and behold it pasted the beer test. Everybody immediately sat up including us, the emcee started banging it on the table and it still kept going. Next he put it on the ground, stood up on his chair and jumped on it It still kept going so he took it outside on to the street and threw it as high as he could in the air, it came down with a thud but it was still working, amazing. Well a deal is a deal he declared and took out a large wad of notes to buy all his watches but the poor kid only had 2 , he could have sold 50 right there and then.
Now that was great street entertainment 
Time now to go in search of some dinner and I really wanted some crispy duck and just around the corner was a restaurant with huge pictures of golden crispy duck outside, well this had to be the place and in we went. Immediately we were impressed, there was not a foreigner in sight, just families sitting around big tables digging into glorious food but alas they were out of duck. Well everything on all the other tables looked so good we stayed and it was well worth the 600 Yuan we splurged on gorging ourselves. I’ve always liked Chinese food but this was spectacular, how would I ever be able to eat it stateside or in Europe again and we washed it all down with a couple of bottles of Great Wall cabernet, which wasn’t bad.
On the way back towards the hotel we looked for someplace to have a nightcap but there was none so we settled again for a couple of cans from Lawson’s and I decided to try a small bottle of Sake, wow, an arsonists delight, pure mentholated spirits, 100% flammable. Needless to say I did not even taste it, straight down the sink.
Saturday morning we again took a taxi to the National Stadium but knowing the length of the ride we did not jump on the first bus but waited for a more luxurious one of which there were plenty scattered amongst the hard seat city types. Getting on the bus we received a package containing various advertising crap and a map showing the four departure locations and the major roads surrounding Shanghai and the track so I was able to work out the routes. Three of the locations were using the same route and the only one that differed was the one we had taken home last night to Hongkou FC stadium, now I could work out our strategy for getting home after the race, getting stuck in the middle of nowhere with a 150,000 people it not the way I want to spend Sunday evening. Last week we had gotten real lucky in Suzuka in that our grandstand had been the closest to the train station.
After qualifying which the Renault boys dominated we made a dash for the Pudong area buses, as I calculated they would have to pass the Bund where we were staying and if we got lucky we could jump off around there. As the bus came over the cross-town expressway a guy from the back seat went down and had a word with the driver and came back smiling. I just instinctively knew he had asked to get off early and told Dave who had been dozing to be alert as he had the aisle seat. The exit ramp took us straight into the tunnel under the river but as soon as we came out the other side the bus pulled over and about half the passenger scampered off.
Sometimes things just fall into place perfectly and this was one of them, right across the street was a Citibank, for some much needed cash and just a few blocks away the Pearl Tower, which we were planning to visit on Monday and could now knock off at 4pm on Saturday afternoon.
Now it was a nice sunny afternoon and Pudong has some amazing architecture, but when we got up the top of the Pearl Tower you could hardly see a thing with the smog.

Going out for the evening we asked the front desk for recommendations firstly for a bar and then somewhere to get good crispy duck. The girl directed us to the Bund Brewing Company which was located in a small street very close to where the guy had taken us to the brothel on Thursday night, so near and yet so far. Next she said we should return to the hotel restaurant for the duck.
The brewing company was full of Europeans eating Chinese food with knives and forks, how pathetic, we almost turned and walked out but the hostess at the door was really really cute, a Chinese version of Sandra Bullock so we sat down and had a couple of the local version of Paulaner Weiss which was very nice. After a few liveners we headed back to the hotel for some much anticipated duck only to find that the restaurant was closing up at 8:30pm, damn, where am I supposed to get some duck!
On the way back we had passed an Italian, a French bistro and a local place called “Grandmothers”, well with a name like that we just had to give it a shot. It was very basic, formica top tables and plastic chairs but hey sometimes these little places can be gems in the rough, and oh how glad we were this was one of them., the eel, the duck, the shrimp the crabs, everything was great and we washed it all down with a couple of bottles of Dynasty cabernet and the happy smiles of grandma’s grand-daughter’s (waitress’s), all for 160 Yuan ($20).They were a very friendly bunch and only the hostess spoke a few words of English. This was dinner sorted for the next couple of days, why bother going in search of anything else.

After dinner we went for a walk along The Bund, I particularly wanted to see The Peace Hotel, legendary in Tai Pan Folklore. It has a magnificent marble lobby with chic restaurants and bars, but it was the roof bar I wanted to see, which has staggering views of the city, but is legendary, in that it is not well sign posted, a fact I was aware of, or we would never have known it existed. The views were stunning and as we enjoyed a couple of glasses of Great Wall cabernet, I was thinking it must be awesome to be posted here from some stuffy London bankers or insurance house with all expenses paid. A few moments later, a young man asked if he could share our table, “of course we said”. We got chatting and he was from London, I told him of my thoughts just before he sat down and low and behold he was living that dream. He worked for a London based insurance company and they had sent him here, all expenses paid, on a two year contract. He had been here three months and become so comfortable with everything he now rode a bicycle through the chaotic traffic to work. His younger brother had just flown out for a weeks vacation but was now sleeping off the jet-lag, they would be at the race.

Sunday morning, race day, we decided we had better get an early start to the track and having assessed the various departure points we decided that leaving from the most westerly area and returning via the northern stadium was our best plan of attack...
The girl at the desk when asked to write the International Gymnastic Center was perplexed and had to make a phone call, she wrote the instructions on a piece of paper which we gave to a cab driver and off we went. Well he seemed to go a different direction when we got off the east-west expressway which I expected but we ended up at the same stadium as the two previous mornings. I think I have since figured this out, that is where all the school children were being bussed from and they therefore did not want any westerners witnessing this.
When we got to the track and tried to walk anti clockwise to our grandstands we encountered thousands and thousands of school children of every age being shepherded into the outer grandstands. We had seen a few classes of children attending the previous day’s practices but nothing of this scale; it was obviously to fill the grandstands for the world television audience, as very few local people could afford the ticket prices.
After watching the early morning warm-ups and with 3 hours to wait for the main event we decided to retire to the Fosters tent and be entertained by the Ga’day girls. We grabbed a couple of ham n cheese hero’s with a couple of cold ones and settled in under a nice shady table just outside. Our friend from the Peace hotel, the previous evening came by with his brother and we had a nice chat, we told him about our encounter with the watch boys and the Brits on Nan-Jing rd., which really amused him, he had not done many of the touristy things yet.
The race itself was a rather non event; the two Renault’s made it into turn one ahead of the field, Fisichella held back the McLarens of Raikkonnen and Montoya while Alonso took off to secure Renault the manufacturer’s title, game, set and match.
After the race we headed as fast as we could for the Hong Kow stadium buses as we figured they were the fastest way back to the city and we were right. Unfortunately we were sat in front of one of those, know it all, expat women, that seem to be in the shadows of all those old colonial movies, when the British Empire ruled the world, “anyone for tea”. I felt sorry for the poor people stuck with her, I think they were work colleagues, every time they tried to change the subject it just lead to another field of her expertise.
They had obviously taken a different bus out to the track and had no idea what part of the city they were now in but she persevered, that she knew the city well and they would be alright. As the bus pulled up opposite the stadium she started to change her tack and announced this must be one of the slummier parts of the city she was not familiar with, I took great joy in turning around and telling her that there was a subway around the corner that would take them to the central Shanghai railway station.
At the main station I was quick to commandeer the first taxi I saw and had to fight off two women that appeared from nowhere and tried to grab, it but I was having none of it, we weren’t in Japan anymore! To the drivers surprise I jumped into the front seat and put on the seat belt, well he took this as a challenge to scare the shit out of me, but I was looking forward to the chaotic ride and he did not disappoint. After about ten minutes of ducking and diving up and down off the highways and under various structures we stopped at a light and Dave shakily inquired from the back seat if I had any idea where we were? I said and indicated that the hotel was about 3 blocks to our left, the cabbie looked at me in disbelief and made the left turn, sorted.
While Dave went off for a wander I had to go and write my column for Home & Away which would be fairly brief owing to the dull nature of this final race and the bland atmosphere of the track. While writing I tuned in Q104.3 radio station from New York on the internet, it was the Sunday morning “with The Beatles” show and to my surprise the DJ starts talking about a Beatles benefit he had attended on Saturday night, organized by Jason Shela. It freaked me out, Jason is a good friend of mine and here I am sitting in a hotel room in Shanghai listening to some deejay in New York prattle on about one of my mates. The world is getting to be a very small place, you can run but you cannot hide, scary stuff!
After getting the ol column out of the way, I was gasping for a taste of the old amber nectar, so after meeting up with Dave in the lobby we headed to see darling “Sandra” at the Bund bar for a few well deserved Weiss beers and then on to Grandmothers and the smiley waitresses to sate our hunger pangs.
As per the previous night, everything was great, the food, the wine and especially the service, we could not stop congratulating ourselves on such a fantastic find. The down side to this is, that now that I am back in New York, writing this some two months later, I can no longer eat New York Chinese food, it’s bland and tasteless.
As Monday was to be our only real sightseeing touristy day we hit the sack early Sunday night to get a running start in the morning.
Well we didn’t get quite as early a start as we had hoped, the track had really sapped us the day before. When I called Dave around 8:30ish it was ARRRRRRRRRGH I’ll see you in an hour.
One great thing in the mornings, you did not have to go looking for breakfast, they left these (2) little egg cakes in your room. It was an almost hard boiled egg inside a little sponge cake, very tasty with a green tea.
Anyway we met up in the lobby and decided to take the subway to Pudong and then the Maglev to the airport. What a train, well it looks like a train but there are no wheels and no rails, it levitates on a magnetic track while doing 275 MPH, unbelievable. Sitting down inside if you do not look out the window you would not know it was moving, mind you, you cannot see much outside anyway, it is all a blur.
We got back into Shanghai around noon and decided to try and find a floating restaurant called the Seagull which we had heard Miss Knowitall talking about on the bus yesterday. It was just over the small bridge at the end of the Bund behind a hotel on the water front. It was not exactly a floating restaurant but gave the impression it was. The whole place was set on an open deck, the large bar set in the hull of a boat with a bamboo roof and all the tables were set in the hulls of smaller boats and individually glass enclosed with bamboo roofs. With the river as a backdrop it was very impressive but unfortunately it was closed and did not open until evening. We vowed to return.
As we returned to The Bund we encountered the usual watch sellers but this guy had something different, Mao Tse Tung watches, his arm going back and forth in a wave, cute, so we decided to buy a couple as they would make cool gifts. He wanted Y200 a piece so we offered him Y400 for 4 and he took it.
It was now time to start thinking about lunch and I had read in the Zaget guide that celebrated chef Jean George who operates a couple of great restaurants in New York that costs an arm and a leg, if you can get a reservation, had opened a new place here on The Bund, that had a prix fixe 3 course lunch for Y188 that was not to be missed.
It was located at 3 The Bund, a fantastic old Victorian building that housed a very up scale mall and it was just around the corner from our hotel. We made 2:30 reservations and went back to our place to freshen up.
When we got back the place was fairly empty as the main lunch crowd had departed and we got a prime table over looking the river. The food was out of this world, I had the Foie Gras appetizer and roast duck entrée, absolutely superb, I might have to return to Shanghai just for lunch.
After lunch we had a wander up back up to Nan-Jing Road as we had only been there at night and we wanted to see if there were really were any bargains to be found. Most of the stores we looked in were full of your typical western crap and priced at what you could find in any big department store like Walmart or Target.
Further up the road as Dave had walked ahead I was approached by a young couple who professed to be starving artists, who had studied in San Francisco and New York. Being very skeptical I asked the young girl who spoke perfect English various questions about New York and she was very chatty and nostalgic when I explained I lived there. They were trying to get people to go look at their art which was being exhibited in a local gallery and I agreed, Dave had returned now and was also very skeptical but I said I was going so he tagged along.
They took us in through a shopping mall full of small stalls, mostly selling clothes and up in the elevator to an office floor where there was a small gallery. We were introduced to a little man with a long grey beard and hair, ala, the master in the old Kung Fu show.
Most of the art was of typical Chinese settings pagoda’s, waterfalls, crouching dragon’s etc., but I was drawn to an oblong floral painting which I immediately knew Leslie, my godson’s mother would really like, and it so happened to have been painted by the young girl who had enticed me in, sold. Dave also purchased a small painting which I think was for his dear mother in Dublin.
Back out on the street we were elated with our very original purchases, far superior than the tourist clap trap being offered in shop windows. We were not the target however of all this drivel, far from it, we were vastly outnumbered by Chinese tourist from other parts of the country and it was these country bumkins that the watch boys and other touts were actually after.
We stopped into another couple of shopping malls but there really was nothing worth buying until I glimpsed a long black coat that was cut perfectly straight down to mid thigh with a high stand-up collar. I tried it on and it fit, I’m not sure where I can wear it but for $28 I was having it.
After a quick walk around peoples square it was time to head back for a few beers at the Bund Brewing Co. with the lovely “Sandra Bullock”. Being early Monday evening the place was quiet and all the waitresses were hanging out at the end of the bar. Sipping our beers we noticed they were all in a huddle, tittering and giggling and when one of them noticed we were looking the tittering got louder and two of them pointed towards me! I thought maybe it was red England Beckham shirt I was wearing ( he is so big in the East) and indicated so by pulling on the sleeve and pointing to the back but the older bartender said no between laughs, it was my platinum silver hair was the source of their admiration and amusement 

Flattering as it was to have all these sixteen and seventeen year olds fawning over my hair we left to dump the shopping at the hotel and go revisit the floating restaurant and see what they had to offer. By the time we got there it was dark and easy to see why they did not bother opening during the daylight hours. The bar and all the individual boat hulls were lit with paper lanterns and strands of fairy lights connected all the structures. Out on the river real floating restaurants, dinner cruise boats all lit up in neon, cruised up and down in front of the magnificent Pudong skyline backdrop, it was an awesome sight to behold and totally blows away any myth that Manhattan is the most spectacular skyline.
We sat down ordered a couple of beers and perused the menu! Well I don’t know what Mrs. Knowitall ate when she found this place but it was obviously for locals and visitors with an extremely educated Chinese cuisine palate. Not that we were going to eat anyway, it was after all our last night and we had to dine with the girls at Grandmother’s and have a nightcap at the Bund bar.
Our flight on Tuesday morning was at 10am so we had to be there by 8 so we had to check out of the hotel at 6:30, an ungodly hour to be ending a vacation on, but it was a long way home. We got a regular cab and it was nowhere near as comfortable or as fast as the car we had hired coming in and it was only a few minutes before we rued not getting his number.
Check-in was a rather easy formality but I must say this was the only time I have ever enjoyed going through security. Naturally my knee implant set of the metal detector, it was 2 young girls manning the gate and led me off to the side where I expected them to call a male colleague for the pat down, but surprisingly they started to perform it themselves, all the while smiling and blushing, I think they enjoyed it as much as I did!
At the duty free we spent all our remaining yuan on silk presents which were an excellent value, then I dived into the first class lounge for an eye opener before the pre flight champers on board.
On board I had the pleasure of being seated beside a beautiful and very smart young Chinese girl who worked for Dell computers, she was on her first trip out of the country going to Austin, Texas. She wanted to know all about New York and I wanted to know more about the rapid growth of Shanghai and their love of American fast food, I had never seen so many Kentucky Fried Chicken’s and she explained that due to them Pepsi had out sold Coke in 2005 for the first time and she seemed quite proud of the fact. She also explained that they sell a lot more than just chicken and it is considered a treat for the whole family to go there for an afternoon and they are also very popular date venues, go figure.
Sadly she was switching to American Airlines at Narita, I would have really liked her company to Detroit.
On our way out of Narita I had spotted a beautiful blue kimono which I said I would pick-up on the return so I headed straight for the duty free zone. It was still there although I’m sure not the same one but anyway I started to try it on when an assistant came over to see if I need help, I said I don’t think so, these come one size fits all, right? Yes she replied, is she a large woman? Woman! I was buying this for myself, oh she said and blushed very brightly…..the men’s are down here. She pulled out a few and they were all just cotton and only black and white with very dull designs, but I felt very self conscious now about the so called woman’s gown, so I bought nothing. Reflecting on it later I should have just bought it, it fit and was a beautiful royal blue with a golden dragon on the back, good job I’m already booked to return next year, I’ll say nothing and just buy the one in the package.
The flight to Detroit was very uneventful and I was very disappointed NWA ran out of Japanese meals. I managed to stay awake the whole way and consequently when I got home that evening I went to bed early and after a 12 hour sleep I was right back on New York time.