Franks travels

The Great Wall of China Finally in 2012, I made it to The Great Wall of China, a lifetime ambition, which I had failed in my two previous attempts. Sometimes the best laid plans fail; my two previous attempts were both mileage trips. The first was in 2008, prior to the Olympics. I was in line at the Chinese embassy for my visa, when I learned from a courier, that they had increased the fees, yesterday, from thirty to one hundred and twenty dollars. I tore up my application in disgust and walked out. The second attempt, I had planned flying into Shanghai for five days, then taking the new bullet train to Beijing for four days and meeting up with my friend, Rob Faulkner, who had come across an all in package to Beijing for twelve hundred dollars. (He was going with another friend of his from Brooklyn.) After I had booked it, I began thinking, it was all a bit to short on time, then three months prior to departure, one of the bullet trains crashed and the service was suspended. That sealed it, I cancelled everything. This trip on the other hand was very spontaneous, while looking on Continental’s website in February, for a fare deal to Japan, I spotted a bargain to Beijing for $752 round-trip, as I had a $100 voucher from the airline, it would bring the fare down to $652, an absolute steal. It is a thirteen hour flight, but having the right seat is the key. The aircraft was a Boeing 777 and row 32 is an emergency exit with a bulkhead, giving you not only plenty of leg room, but also space to get up and stretch. My favoured seats, window outbound to sleep, and aisle return, were both available, so I booked it immediately, for late March. The morning of Wednesday, March 21st, came around very quick. I arose at 4am in an attempt to adjust my body clock. After a good walk to limber up and a light breakfast, I headed off on my odyssey at 9am, leaving early due to my having to present my entry visa before check-in at the counter. Newark airport was amazingly quiet at ten thirty on a Wednesday morning; I virtually walked straight through security and into an empty Presidents lounge for a couple of gin Bloody Mary’s. My flight was scheduled for 1pm, so there was plenty of time for a good lunch before boarding. The great thing about taking long haul flights out of terminal C, is being able to dine at Gallagher’s steak house. Their steak sandwich is legendary, that, washed down with a couple of glasses of California cabernet, set me up perfectly for the thirteen hour flight. This was a similar routine that I had followed two years ago prior to a twelve hour flight to Honolulu. As we flew into Beijing, I was watching the movie, Easy Rider, on my Zune. I found this very amusing, a sixties movie about the drug and bike culture of America, as I flew into the supposed capital of communism. Customs and immigration was a breeze, I had planned on taking the train and subway into the city, which would require three changes, but I was feeling pretty knackered, so I got in line for a taxi. I had written to my hotel and requested their address in Mandarin characters for just such a situation. The driver did not recognize the address, so he called them on his cell phone, after a few nods and grunts we were off. Despite the traffic we got to my hotel in forty five minutes and the meter read ninety five Yuan (¥95), as my friend Rob, had I told me, it should. Beijing weather is very similar to New York City, the unusual warm spell that we had been experiencing in NYC, was even warmer there, the next five days were all forecast to be sunny with temperatures in the mid seventies Fahrenheit, low twenties, Celsius. I was checked in and unpacked by 5pm, it was a beautiful evening, so I decided to go explore the neighbourhood. Although rather tired I need to soldier on until at least 9pm. When I came out of the lane to the hotel, I turned left and past a few restaurants, the first one was a shabu shabu, also known as Chinese Hot Pot, it looked very nice, had an English menu in the window, so I would try it another day. After about ten or twelve minutes I came upon Rob’s, hotel, The Red Wall, now I knew I had walked north from the hotel, it was a very uninteresting looking area so I turned on my heel and headed back. When I got to my lane I kept heading south which would take me towards Tiananmen Square, but I did not want to get there in dusk, I wanted to see it for the first time in brilliant sunshine, tomorrow morning. I walked down to the next major intersection, where the taxi driver had made a wrong turn earlier, he had turned into The Jade Garden Hotel, I was at The Jade Hotel, close! It was getting dark quiet quickly, so I turned for home, when I was approached by a rickshaw driver, who wanted to take me to Tiananmen Square. He would not take no for an answer, I was surprised how good his English was, he inquired where I was from, where I lived, what hotel I was staying at, how long I was staying, had I been to China before. It was an inquisition, finally I told him I would return in the morning and he accepted that. Back at the hotel, there was a large sign as you entered the bar/restaurant, proclaiming their roast duck as “one of the best”, at the bar I got a beer and inquired about the duck. It was a whole duck, sliced with pancakes and fixings, I was planning on going to bed soon and that would be too much food. While I sipped my ½ liter bottle of Tsingtao beer (¥6, $.85) I saw a plate of dumplings come out of the kitchen, they would be perfect to quell my appetite. I ordered them and a Tiger beer, not realizing that it was four times the price of Tsingtao, they were both delicious, but I had a little sticker shock when I got the bill, ¥48, Tsingtao ¥6, Food ¥20, Tiger ¥22. Oh well, it’s not like I’m getting ripped off, $7:50!! Friday morning, I awoke at 7am after a solid ten hour sleep, I was now on Beijing time and ready to face the city, first stop Tiananmen Square. At the end of the Jade’s alley, I turned right on Beihayan Jie (street), as I walked south, I was joined by a polite young man, who inquired if I spoke English, when I said I was from England, he asked if he could walk and talk with me, sure. He said he was an art student from Mongolia, I said, ah, Ulaan Baatar, (the capital of Mongolia) he did not respond, so I knew immediately, it was just a story. I have heard all the art student rouse stories, but I needed to speak English with someone, so I pumped him for some information. After about ten or fifteen minutes, we got to the building which contained his gallery, but I just made my apologies and kept going. A few minutes later, I arrived at Dong Chang An Jie, a huge ten lane boulevard that traverses the city east to west. I turned right toward Tiananmen, on my right was a huge wall, but across the street were two huge public buildings, the first was the Ministry of Public Security, the second, The Museum of China. As I passed the entrance to Tiananmen East subway station, I got my first view of the Square and I was awed, it made the Plaza Mayor in Madrid or Trafalgar Square in London, look like children’s playgrounds. It was only 8:30am and already the area was packed with tourists, mostly Chinese, all following a tour guide, holding a flag on a long pole. I paused by the underpass entrance to take a photo, just as a Caucasian tour group came up, following their guide. A lot of them gave me strange questioning looks, was I lost? How could you be here on your own? Ha-ha. I walked in through the Tiananmen gate under the giant portrait of Mao Zedong, which leads to the southern entrance to The Forbidden City. This I was saving for another day, so I made a left into Zhongshan Park and was immediately enveloped into a quiet serene setting, far from the maddening crowd. I spent almost an hour enjoying the sculpted gardens and water features. One thing that did surprise was, a beautiful traditional one story building, that upon further investigation turned out to be a bumper car rink, all the cars were painted with the stars and stripes of the USA. Rather strange!! Exiting the park beside Tiananmen West subway, I used the pedestrian underpass to the main center of the square, I had expected to see food stands, considering the vast number of tourists, but there were none and I was starting to feel rather peckish, due to only having a cereal bar for breakfast in my haste. Wandering around, amid mostly Chinese tourists, (they all wear caps that match the tour guides flag) you begin to think about the student demonstrations in 1989 and the consequent killings. I wonder how many of these people have ever heard about it, probably very few. Further down the square is the magnificent mausoleum that houses Mao’s tomb, it was only 10am and the lines were absolutely enormous, or so I thought while standing in front, I moved to the left (east) and when I got to the corner, I saw the line extended and 200 yards and looped back on itself about eight times, wow. As I walked along the line, I remembered, that you cannot take anything inside with you. There were signs in English for lockers, but most notable, were the tour guides standing with their flags, guarding huge piles of backpacks and purses. When I got the end of the building, the same lines were repeated along the back and presumably along the west wall, there had to be somewhere in the order of 20,000 people in line. Next stop was the Temple of Heaven, which required two subways, first one stop east on the #2 line from Quinmen to Chongwenmen, then, two stops south on the #5 line to Tianmen East Gate. This was my first experience, but it proved to be easier to navigate than New York City’s subway, and infinitely cleaner. As I exited the station, I saw the Beijing Pearl Market, diagonally across the highway, with a pedestrian walkway connecting it. Surely I could find something to eat over there, if nothing else, I would get a view from the crosswalk. When I entered the market, I was greeted by a cacophony of young sales girls, “you likey, you buy here, best prices”, it was horrific, I turned on my heel and walked out, the hunger could wait, but realistically it could not. I had seen, from the crosswalk, that there was a Kentucky Fried Chicken down the street, but I really did not want American fast food. I walked that way in the hope that there would be other options, low and behold as I passed the end of the market, there was a little shack selling snacks and drinks. Most of the edible offerings were cake and candy so opted for a snickers bar and a can of Nespresso, protein and caffeine that would keep me going till lunch. I crossed back over the highway and entered the eastern gate; it was surprisingly quiet after Tiananmen, I walked west towards the temple passing a walled garden on the way. Sitting in the bright sunshine, on the low outer wall, were hundreds of people, segregated into male and female groups. All the men were congregated around card games, the women were split between mahjong (tile game) and knitting, a few were offering their brightly knit doilies for sale. The gathering had a jovial, family party, atmosphere about it. I came to a large wall with no gate through it, but I could see the impressive triple round turret roofs of the temple, (formal name, Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests, 祈年殿), with its glistening blue tiles (representing heaven) and intricate green/blue paintwork topped with a golden orb. I moved to my right, towards where there should be a north gate, but there was none. I carried on, anti clockwise, and came upon the west gate. As I entered, I got to view the temple in all its ancient oriental magnificence. The building sits atop a three tiered marble dais, with six sets of stairs leading up to the red wooden structure decorated with gold leaf, a work of art. People are not allowed inside the structure, but, there are three open doorways that you can look in to see the alter, where the emperor spent the night on the winter solstice, praying for good harvests. The interior is more ornately decorated than the exterior, in wonderful bright multi coloured paints, but predominantly, red and green, very pleasing on the eye. Walking south on the central pathway, I came upon a smaller version of the previous temple, The House of Heavenly Lord (or formal name, Imperial Vault of Heaven, 皇穹宇), this is surrounded by the Echo Wall, much like the whispering gallery at St. Paul’s cathedral, in London, in each, you can whisper something on one side of the circle and it will be heard on the other. It works in both. Further on, I came to the Round Alter, the raised center stone of which was considered the center of the earth. Interesting how they figured that one out? It was now lunch-time and I was starving. I was next to the south gate and nearer to the west than the east, but neither of them had a subway. As there was no food by the east gate, there was no reason to think there would be any at the others, so I made the long trek back to the subway. There is a subway station 10/15 minutes walk from the Jade, Dengshikou, which is four stops on the 5 line. When I came out of the station, I could not believe it, I was surrounded by five star hotels in every direction, The Legendale, The Regent, The Peninsula, Raffles, and Marriott. I was a little discombobulated, so I turned left opposite the Legendale and low and behold, there in front of me, was the Rolls Royce showroom, with Ferrari and Maserati next door. Oh yeah, this is a communist country. I looked back behind me, and saw the W hotel, several blocks away, so I knew I was heading north. I had seen the W, that morning while walking south to Tiananmen, with my Mongolian artist friend. I turned left and west at the next corner, by the Mercedes showroom; there were a few small restaurants, with several taxi’s parked in front. In most big cities, where the cabbies eat, is a good source of cheap, wholesome food and outsiders are welcome, but I doubted whether a western tourist, with no Chinese, would be welcome here, so I pushed on. Walking towards the Jade, I decided to have Shabu, Shabu. On the way, I pasted several fast food joints, KFC, Micky Dee’s and Burger King, I also past what was going to end up being my favourite duck restaurant. Maybe it was just as well that I did not go in that first day, or I would not have eaten anything else. Lunch was winding down when I got there, only a few tables were occupied and an army of young waitresses, dressed in bright red uniforms with gold epilates and buttons, were running around clearing tables. They were a little startled, when I walked in and indicated a table for one. I ordered a large beer while I perused the menu, which was in English. There were a few things I did not understand, but undeterred, I ordered, pork belly, mutton and tongue, all of which came with bean sprouts, noodles, cabbage and various dipping sauces. The gas ring in the middle of my table was fired up and the boiling stock pot was placed above it in readiness for the meat. All the waitresses started to attend to the already cleaned and set tables around me, snickering to each other; I guess I was the afternoon’s entertainment! A few minutes later the food was presented and there was an expectant hush, followed by an audible sight, as I nimbly chose a piece of meat with my chopsticks and dumped it into the broth followed by a leaf of cabbage and some noodles. They were very disappointed and all wandered off to finish their cleaning chores. I was feeling very chuffed with myself, having eaten Shabu-Shabu in Tokyo and New York City’s, Korea-town, really paid off. Completely sated and totally wrecked, it was time for a nap and I was very glad my bed was just around the corner. After a ninety minute power nap, I arose and felt totally refreshed, it was about 4:30pm and sunset would be at approximately 6:30. I had read in some guide book, that the sunset from the hilltop in Jingshan Park, overlooking The Forbidden City, was spectacular, so, as it was only a thirty minute walk, no time like the present. Leaving the Jade, I turned right this time, zigzagging my way through the hutong alleys, towards the eastern wall of the Forbidden City (aka, Palace Museum). I had expected to come out at the moat, but the whole far side of the street (Jie) was lined with one and two story buildings, housing an assortment of businesses from bar/restaurants to auto/bicycle repair shops. Very shoddy looking compared to the gated residences that lined my side of the street. I turned right and north, within a few minutes, I arrived at the end of the shoddy buildings and a beautiful panorama opened in front of my eyes. Stretched out westward, towards the setting sun, was the northern section of the moat, running from the imperial North East tower, past the regal North gate to the equally imperial North West tower. It was breath-taking. Of course, being such a beautiful spot, I was immediately set upon by a gaggle of entrepreneurs offering their wares and rickshaw rides. Nobody takes, NO, for an answer, you actually feel like hitting them, but the best thing, is to scurry away as fast as possible, even then the rickshaws follow you. I walked along the bank of the moat till I got to the palace gate, then crossed the jie to the park entrance, which was another, very elaborately decorated building with what appeared to be an equally elaborate temple up on the summit behind it. When I finally climbed my way up there, I started to think all the old buildings were identical! This is the highest natural point in the city and the view over the Forbidden City was spectacular, but unfortunately, whoever had written the article I had read about the sunset had taken some literary liberties. The Palace was directly south of me and the setting sun was far off to my right/west, never the less, I drank in the view, Beijing has some of the most cutting edge architecture in the world. I traversed down the hill to exit the west gate, I knew it was just a short walk to Beihai Park, which is set on an island in Beihai lake. All of the temples were closed, so I just walked around the perimeter path, past, what now seemed the exact same design of building. The island is dominated by a white pagoda that resembles an old hand bell. I exited the south gate and looked for a taxi, but of course it was now rush hour and there were none to be had. I walked back along the north moat, which was crowded with photographers looking for the perfect sunset shot reflecting in the moat, I got mine at the northeast corner. By now, my feet were killing me. A rickshaw man persistently kept offering to take me to my hotel for just ¥2, so against my better judgment, I got in. Off we went and I’m thinking, “how can he do this for just ¥2”, if there was no con involved, I would give him a good tip. After just a couple of minutes we were at my hotel, I jumped off and went for my wallet; he also jumped off and reached to get his wallet out. I thought, why? He is not going to give change, but he produced a fare card and pointed out, hotel ¥200. I said, no, no-no, and pulled out ¥40, he started to scream and jump up and down. At this point, the lane/alley matron (woman dressed in military jacket that sits in a guard hut) came up and started to laugh at him. I looked at her and got the picture, she has seen this stunt before. I gave her a wink and threw a ¥20 note at him, he went ballistic, but I just turned on my heel and walked into the hotel. There was nothing he could do, the matron was killing herself with laughter and I was feeling rather chuffed with myself. I rewarded myself with a large bottle of Tsingtao beer, it went down so smooth. I had planned going out to find a good duck restaurant, but I was totally knackered and my feet were killing me. I inquired from the waiter about their Peking Duck, it was a whole duck for ¥72 and had to be ordered one hour in advance. Perfect, I ordered it, grabbed another beer and went upstairs for a shower. Upon my return, I ordered a bottle of Great Wall cabernet and a few minutes later, my duck was served. It was presented on two swan like platters, my first impression was swans, but upon reflection, I suppose they were meant to represent ducks. They were long white oval platters with curved necks to a head at one end and a feather decoration at the other. The duck was sliced into very thin pieces, but they had discarded the legs and wings, very disappointing. It was accompanied by a basket of thin pancakes, scallions, celery and hoisin sauce. I dipped a piece of duck in the sauce and rolled it in a pancake with pieces of celery and scallion, delicious. I was getting some very envious looks from the other diners, most of whom were backpackers, for whom this would be a large splurge. After dinner, I went over to the couchette area to talk with an older gentleman, whom I had briefly said hello to, the previous evening. His name was Bob, and he was a retired school teacher, from Pittsburg, he had grown bored with retirement and decided to come to China in search of a job, teaching English. I was amazed at his pluck; he was seventy six years old and had never traveled before. His grand-daughter, had given him an I-Pad to stay in touch, but he had no idea how to use it. The first fact he had found out was; the Chinese government would not issue a work permit to anyone over fifty nine. Now he was thinking about a private tutor work, but had no idea how to go about it. I borrowed his I-Pad, opened the Google app and typed in, “private English tutor positions”, it came back with thousands of results, he was astounded!! Bob, had been in Beijing two weeks and had hardly been anywhere, only places within walking distance, he was completely intimidated by any form of public transit, but I explained the subway is super easy, just ¥2 flat rate, even easier than New York City, which he had been on, so he promised to try it. Likewise, buses are only ¥1, for taxis, just get reception to write the address in Mandarin and take a card for the return trip. Saturday morning I was up bright and early, as I was in no hurry, I stuck my head into the restaurant to see what the breakfast buffet had to offer. The western offering was bacon and scrambled eggs, the Chinese looked like chow mien. For ¥20, I decided to give it a go, how bad could it be, actually, it turned out to be good value. As I finished up, Bob, arrived and inquired where I was off to? When I told him the Winter Palace, he was awed; I explained it was an easy subway ride and would give him details later. I set off for Dengshikou subway station, from there it would be seven stops on the #5 line to Huixinxijue Nankou, then eight stops on the #10 line to Haidian Huagzhuang, then three stops on the #4 line to, Beigongmen, Old Summer Palace, it took just under an hour, but I did not get a seat until near the end of the #10 line and got one on a virtually empty #4. I had hoped that this far out of the city, the line might have gone above ground, but it didn’t. Exiting the station, I was confronted with a familiar dilemma, left or right. More people were going left than right, so I went left, but then realized most of them were going to bus stops. A few were carrying on, so I figured I’d follow them past the traffic light, where the road forked and see what was ahead. I lucked out, there was the north gate entrance and no lines. I bought the multi attraction ticket, I had no idea what I was getting, but it was only ¥50. After walking through the gate there was a bridge over a river, upon closer inspection, there was a small village on the banks, called Suzhou Street, this was the first attraction, so good job I had purchased the multi pass. It was a very steep, winding stone staircase, down to the river, which I navigated with great trepidation, some of the steps were 15 to 18 inches high and there was no railing, just granite walls. Two thousand years ago, things were not built tourist friendly. Amazingly, there ware still great sheets of ice on the river, even though the temperature was in the seventies, Fahrenheit. Although all the buildings on both banks were now restaurants and souvenir shops, back in the day, when they were built, they would have housed the boat builders and sailors to maintain the vessels for the emperor’s enjoyment of Lake Kunming. Across the river was a wide stone staircase leading up to what looked like the back of the Summer Palace, at the top of the first big staircase, there was a corrugated iron fence, but one section had been ripped away and people were pouring through it. Naturally, I followed suit, but I could not help feeling, something was wrong. Sure enough, after climbing several steeper stone staircase, there were more corrugated iron fences, which had been more securely erected. A few young fit guys were able to scale them and they were passing their girlfriends over, but for most people, myself included, it was the turn around point. I did manage to scale a large rock formation, for a peek over the fence and could see the Buddha temple on the other side, facing the lake and another series of smaller temples on the lake shore to my left (east). I trudged back down to Suzhou Street and turned right along the river, it was a really nice shaded rolling path that finally, after about twenty minutes, came to another small Suzhou style village at the end of the river. It was not one of the multi attractions on my ticket, but because of the beautiful ponds and gardens, I found it much more interesting than Suzhou Street. After a brief respite I continued down the path to the lake, where it was a lot more crowded. This was the east gate entrance and there was a large bus parking lot, this was obviously the tour drop off point and there were long lines for tickets. From the small pier, there was a very good view of the actual palace and Buddha Temple, but it was a long walk around the lake and a lot more climbing. There was a lot of construction around the east gate and having seen the barriers at the back of the palace, it was only reasonable to assume there would be more at the front, so, I decided to call it a day. Exiting via the east gate, I followed the palace walls back around to the subway. Returning to the city center, I went one more stop on the subway to Dongdan station, which is on the main east-west artery. Coming up the escalators, I found myself in a very upscale mall, which turned out to be Oriental Plaza, it reminded me instantly of Tokyo. I instinctively started to look for an exit, when I got the wafting smell of beef curry. It was lunchtime and I was starving, I just happened to be standing in front of the entrance to the food hall. I followed the scent and just a few stores down, I came upon a curry fast food counter, I ordered beef curry with rice and a beer, perfect. Exiting the mall on Dong Chang An Jie, I turned right towards Wangfujing Street, which is closed off to vehicular traffic and is famous for its night street food market, huge varieties of fish and all sorts of bugs and insects are roasted on sticks. With this in mind, I was totally deflated when I made the right turn into Wangfujing and was confronted with a thirty foot high, McDonalds sign, followed by an equally sized KFC sign, both stores had huge lines of people at the counters, unbelievable. After a few blocks, with the exception of no traffic, I could have been walking on Fifth Avenue in New York or Regent Street in London, such was the array of foreign brand stores, Rolex, Zara, Nike, Tag Heuer, Coach, Armani, Cartier etc, a heavy lean towards watches, but all the European designers were present, communism at it’s finest! Wandering up the street, I was twice approached by Tibetan artists. Two just wanted to take me to look at their work, but the third wanted to go for a drink and a chat to practice his English. This is one of the worst scams, they already have an arrangement with the proprietor of either the pub or coffee shop, after a few rounds, they go to the bathroom and never come back, you are then presented with a hugely inflated check and have no choice but to pay it. At the end of the pedestrian part of Wangfujing, my feet were aching and my throat partched. I had looked up Irish pubs in Beijing before leaving New York and had found Molly Malone’s, which I remembered was in this neighbourhood. I had had the fortitude to put the address, in Mandarin, in my phone. I showed it to the traffic cop standing at the corner and he pointed to his right. I walked a few blocks, but still saw nothing, I was walking past the Novotel, so I popped in to ask the concierge, I was on the right track, he directed me to go past the next major intersection and then the next left, it should be right there. When I got down to the intersection, I recognized it as the same one I was at yesterday, the next left was the Legendale Hotel on the left side and the Rolls Royce dealership opposite, maybe it’s in the hotel. I walked up and showed my phone to the doorman, he smiled and opened the huge wooden door, beckoning to a bellman. After a few words, he bade me to follow him through the plush lobby, down a flight of stairs across an alley, up another flight of stairs and viola, I was in the back of any upscale Irish pub, I could have been in New York, London or Dublin. Oh well, might as well have a beer while I’m here. I was not about to try the Guinness, so I ordered a Carlsberg. The place was virtually empty, except for another Caucasian a few stools away. When I got my beer, I toasted it towards him and said cheers, not knowing if he would understand, but he said cheers back, with a Scandinavian twang. I inquired where he was from, he told me a town in Norway, which I had never heard of, he said it was in the far north, above the Arctic Circle. I inquired about the Aurora Borealis, he said it is a daily show during the winter nights, which last twenty hours. He then went on to complain how much he hated Beijing, how people were trying to sell him things all the time and others trying to rip him off. Ha ha, I just laughed at him, its life in any big city, why did you come here? He explained he was getting married and someone told him this is the best place to get a great deal on a diamond and platinum engagement ring. I was puzzled, he came half way around the world, spending thousands of dollars or krone to save a few on a ring, when Antwerp, Belgium, the wholesale capital of diamonds was just down the road! This guy was an idiot! I called for my check and was a bit surprised, it was ¥100, two Carlsbergs ¥50 each. I wandered out the front door into the bright afternoon sunshine and, voila, there was the Rolls Royce dealership across the street, I had been blinded by the bling. After a nice nap, it was time to head across town to another Irish pub, Paddy O’Shea’s, which my friend, Rob Faulkner, had found on his trip. I needed to see the Premier League game, Chelsea vs Tottenham Hotspurs from London, I was not sure what time it started 7:45pm or 8:45pm, so I wanted to be there by 7:30pm to get a good seat and eat. The directions I had downloaded from the website, in Mandarin, included the notation, that the pub was located across the street from the Canadian Embassy. When I hailed a taxi and gave the woman the address, it included the notation. I had looked up the location, so I knew approximately where I was going, when she turned into the express lane of Dong Zhi Men Da Jie, I had a feeling something was wrong. Sure enough, a couple of lights later, we were in the outside express lane as we flashed past the pub, but it was on the inside service road. I indicated for the driver to take the next left U turn and she looked very agitated. I think she had read the directions as being to the Canadian Embassy, I indicated for her to pullover as soon as we made the U turn, which further agitated her, she pointed out that the address was further up. I managed to convince her I was okay by offering cash for the fare, which was very reasonable, ¥22 for a twenty minute trip, much better than the rickshaw, I gave her ¥30 and she was delighted. I crossed back over the intersection, got some money out of the Bank of China, ATM, and then walked up the street to the pub. I walked in and it was like walking into one of the Irish football bars in New York, shirts, scarves and flags representing all the major European clubs, hanging everywhere, but there was a predominance of Manchester United. The chalkboard indicated that the game was on at 8:45pm, so I had over an hour to kill. A quick glance at the menu, confirmed there was nothing on it that I would eat, except in an emergency. As I turned to leave, the Irish manager, Sean, approached to ask what I needed, I explained, I was here for the Spurs game and was going to get something to eat. He asked where I was from, I briefly explained my New York-London-Irish lineage, he inquired, which county my family was from? I told him, Longford, but I visit Kildare more, and was there last week. Great, he said, “I’m from Wicklow”. “Wow, what a coincidence”, I said, we went to Brittas Bay last Sunday week, do you know it? “Know it”, he said, “we used to go there every year for our summer holidays and stayed in a caravan”. I bade him adios and headed out the door, thinking, maybe I should have asked him where to go, but nah, winging it is more fun. I turned left out the door, continuing in the direction I had come from, towards a brightly lite junction, at which, I instinctively turned left again. Sure enough, there were several restaurants, but all were virtually empty and all were very high decor. I was looking for the local mom n’ pop joint, but of course this was the Embassy district, they were catering to diplomats and their staff. I pressed on for another few hundred yards and suddenly got a powerful smell of BBQ. I looked around and across the street in a parking lot; a guy was flipping meats on a large grill. Naturally I wandered over, there was an open terrace with a few patrons sat at plastic furniture. The table nearest the fire was empty, I wonder why? I indicated that I wanted to sit and the grillman waved me to go ahead, I got a few strange looks, but what the hell. The waiter came over and I indicated one beer, he nodded, then I pointed at the grill, where he was cooking large chicken wings and indicated six, again he nodded, no problem. The ice cold large ½ liter can of beer came almost immediately, after about ten minutes, a plastic basket of huge wings, with BBQ sauce, was plopped in front of me, they smelled delicious, but were way to hot to handle, it was probably another ten minutes before I could pick one up, they were fantastic, I ordered another beer. If it had not been Spurs playing, I would have blown off the game and just stayed there, he now had pork strips on the grill, but I was running out of time, damn. I called for the bill, which the busboy brought, wow, ¥18, six each for the beers and one each for the wings, I gave him ¥20 and he beamed a huge smile at me, another wow, that had been such a wonderful experience, I was beaming from ear to ear. When I returned to the pub, Sean, was behind the bar and waved me to one of two free stools right in front of the screen, which he was going to show the Spurs game on. He inquired if I would like to try the Guinness? What the hell, I gave it a go. I’m sure if you are away for a long time it would be fine, but having just been in Ireland, it was very bitter, Sean noticed my wince, he said “you get used to it”, not tonight I won’t, said I, “I’ll have a Carlsberg next”. He then inquired where I went to eat. He was most surprised when I told him about the BBQ place, “best BBQ in town” he said, “but did not think you would end up there, I’m always the only westerner”. Just then, another chirpy cockney sat on the stool next to me and inquired, “Sean, is the Spurs game on”, right here I replied. We introduced ourselves, Jonathon, was from Hackney, not a place I have fond memories of, but it’s still North London. I asked how he knew Sean? He explained he work for the Bank of China in London and regularly got sent to Beijing and Shanghai. I had assumed he was a fellow Spurs supporter, but he wagged his finger at me, no, no, no. Oh no, he was a gooner, an Arsenal fan, our sworn enemies. This happens so often, our two clubs are only a few miles apart in North London, oh well, it was good to talk to a fellow Londoner. Turned out he was not as anti Spurs as most gooners, he actually had some good opinions. The game ended in a nil, nil draw, which was a pretty good result for Spurs, we usually lose at Chelsea. Jonathon, left as soon as the game was over, I asked why he was not staying for the arsenal game at 11pm, he said he was going to watch it in bed at his hotel, he was staying at the Ritz Carlton, which he was not impressed by. I watched the post game show while I finished my beer and got my tab, not as bad as Molly Malone’s, but still very expensive for China, ¥55 for the Guinness and ¥30 for the Carlsberg. I crossed the boulevard and caught a taxi going in the right direction, I was home in twenty minutes, again the meter read ¥22, so again I gave him ¥30. When I got to my room, I checked the TV to see which game I could get, sure enough, it was Arsenal vs Aston Villa, but I was too tired and didn’t really care. Sunday morning I was up bright and early, The Forbidden City opened at 9am and I wanted to be there before the crowds. I bounced downstairs for breakfast at 7:30am, looking forward to more bacon and eggs but this mornings offering was not as appealing, small Vienna style sausages (frankfurters), which I’m not to keen on and fried eggs, which were almost cold. I made two fresh slices of toast, buttered them and plopped an egg on each, voile, two decent egg sandwiches, which would last me the morning. I got to the main gate at 8:45am and there were no lines at the ticket windows, but there were huge lines of organized tours, all wearing colour coordinated baseball caps, lined up behind, pennant waving tour guides. Luckily, there was a barrier corridor in the middle of all the tours for individuals, hurray. Upon entry through the gate, you are immediately confronted by a huge central palace with smaller buildings and courtyards on either side. I was struck by the symmetrical nature of all these structures, which was confirmed by my inspections of both left and right sides. This would substantially cut down on the time and walking distances to explore the whole Palace, a good thing. I developed a plan; most of the large groups were staying in the middle, up and down the steps of the large Palaces, so I would stay on the periphery, checking out the courtesan quarters and then just cutting in and out to see the main Palaces. It worked like a charm and I got to see some beautiful exhibitions of, clothing, armor, pottery and jewelry. All the outer courtyards were different, whereas the central Palaces were much of the same. Eventually, I came upon a small garden with the inevitable gift shop. Normally I would give this a miss, but, this is the Forbidden City. I went in to take a look and was presently surprised, they had some very nice items, perfect for my God-daughter and siblings, at very reasonable prices, I loaded up, why not, these were quality goods, compared to the crap on Wangfujing Street. Exiting through the North Gate, I immediately realized most of the people were being ushered towards their tour buses, which were protected by a barrier and a line of police. I on the other hand, along with a few other small groups, had to run the gauntlet of the souvenir hawkers and inevitable rickshaw drivers, outside the barrier. I instantly had the horrible vision of being spotted by my driver from Friday night, but then thought, I would not know him, so, why should he recognize me. One rickshaw guy did latch on to me, but after ten minutes of walking and ignoring him, he finally gave up. I walked back to The Jade with my souvenirs; put my feet up with a beer to contemplate lunch. As I sipped my beer, I started to write some of the postcards I had purchased at the gift shop. I had noticed a post box at the end of the lane, but where to buy stamps, that was the question, so I popped down to the front desk. I was directed to walk towards the subway, at Wangfujing Street, turn right and just past the Catholic Church was the Post Office on the left. A Catholic Church in Beijing? That I have to see and Wangfujing Street could solve lunch. I headed out immediately and found the church in ten minutes, but unfortunately it was closed, but it was Sunday! I walked across the square and there was the Post Office and it was open!! A dozen stamps were ¥60, ¥5 each, not bad. Walking down Wangfujing, I came upon two duck restaurants, each proclaimed to be Beijing #1, but both were overly gaudy, so I passed. Further on, I was tempted by Kentucky Fried Chicken, how would it taste? I thought twice, but what the hell, in I went. Only to turn right around and back down the stairs, it was jammed and the decibel level was comparable to a Jumbo jet taking off. Now what? Two blocks down was the Galleria where I had curry yesterday, it had a huge food court, so I headed there. Sure enough, after just a few minutes, I came upon a Japanese fast food counter, which smelled delicious. I opted for the Teriyaki Salmon, brown rice, edema and a ginseng tea, healthy fast food, it was delicious. Wandering out into the bright afternoon sun, I wanted nothing more to do with Wangfujing Street, so I figured I would take the #1 subway line east to the World Trade Center, where I had glimpsed some amazing architecture on the way in from the airport. It was only four stops to Guomao, naturally I came out of the wrong exit, I was in front of the Beijing Park Grand Hyatt, a very impressive hotel, but I would have to negotiate a rather complex intersection to get a good picture of the main building I had come to see, the new CCTV HQ. I could not believe it, on the island under the flyover, was a McDonald’s, incredibly they are everywhere. When I finally got to the other side the World Trade center, it was not very impressive, just another convention center, but when I turned the corner of the Beijing Kerry Center, my breath was taken away by the sight of the CCTV building. It is just about the most complex modern building that I have ever seen, resembling a large N, two fifty story towers, the bases, built approx one hundred and twenty meters apart at forty five degree angles, tilting towards each other at approx twenty degree angles and connected atop, by a twelve story, forty five degree canopy, very unusual. I decided not to investigate The Kerry Center, although I knew it had some unique shopping destinations, but, it was still just another mall. Returning to the subway, I caught the #10 line north eleven stops to Beitucheng, where I changed to the #8 line, for one stop to the Olympic sport complex. I must say, I have seen a lot of stadiums in my life, but the Birds Nest takes the cake, it is a very impressive arena. On the other hand, the aquatic center, which had looked so impressive on television, looked down right drab. When I finally got back to the Jade, I was exhausted, I had planned going out to find another duck restaurant, but there was no way I could take one more step. I had a 7:30am appointment to go to the wall on Monday and that was the trip priority. After chilling out with a cold beer, I ordered the in-house duck and went to have a shower. Returning an hour later, I found Bob sitting on the couch, playing with his I Pad. I stopped to say hello and enquire where he had been for the day, nowhere, he had been going through the search results I had found for him. Full marks, he was determined to find some interviews for the upcoming week. After I finished my duck, I took the remains of my Great Wall wine and joined Bob on the couch, he had been to the Forbidden City so we could compare notes, but he was intrigued how I had gotten to the Olympic Village and also wanted details, how to get to the Summer Palace via subway, I was only to glad to make notes in his I Pad. I told him about my impending trip to the wall in the morning which I had booked through the front desk, I promised to report back to him tomorrow evening. It was time for an early night, tomorrow was the highlight of the whole trip. I was scheduled to be picked up at 7:30am, so I set my alarm for 6am, but I beat it by fifteen minutes, I was so excited. Showered, I was down waiting for breakfast to be set up at five to seven, I was hoping it would be bacon and eggs again, but unfortunately, it was warm ham and hard boiled eggs, so I just made a couple of egg and ham sandwiches. As I tucked into my brekkie, three American teenage girls came in, chatting about how excited they were to be going to The Wall. Almost immediately, they were followed by several more, all of a sudden the room was full of American high school kids and the volume was deafening. I had a frightening flashback to my horrific bus trip into Denali National Park in Alaska, several years ago with a group of high school seniors. I hurriedly finished my breakfast and went to inquire at the desk, if they were on the same trip as me? The girl knew nothing about their plans. Just as panic started to set in and I was thinking, “this cannot not happen to me again”, a small minibus pull up at the front door and the desk clerk motioned for me to go out and meet it. It was indeed my tour and from the size of the bus, obviously not theirs, I heaved a huge sigh of relief. A few blocks down the road, we stopped at The Forbidden City Hotel where about another seven people joined us. I judged this was the tours HQ, as our tour guide, Lucy, took all her paperwork inside, while the new guests boarded. I immediately noticed three girls who were all in their twenties and obviously Irish, two of them sat in the seat opposite me, the other in front. Had his not been such a one off trip, I would have done the gentlemanly thing and swapped seats with he one in front, but I had the only solo seat with a clear window (no partition) and a shade that rolled all the way up. Lucy got back on and explained the trip, it would take approx two hours to get there, our ticket included the bus, entrance to the wall and lunch at a local restaurant, it did not include the cable car/chair lift to the top of the wall. She had an arrangement with the chair lift for discount tickets but no deal with the cable car. You could of course travel with either or indeed buy a one way on each, but we all went with Lucy’s suggestion. We set off at ten to eight and everyone gave a big, hurrah, but it was sort lived. Lucy’s phone rang and she announced that another of their buses was over loaded, so we would have to meet them. Our moods were tempered during the wait for the other bus (by an outdoor exercise park, which at first looked like a children’s playground, but upon closer examination, it was elderly people doing their morning calisthenics, brilliant idea. All the equipment was big brightly coloured plastic apparatus). With his lull, I asked the two opposite me, what part of Ireland they were from? One of them said, the middle, I asked, could you be more specific? She elaborated, Athlone, ah said I, Westmeath. They were shocked that I knew this; I explained the usual, born in London, parents from Longford, living in New York City. They were fascinated and intrigued that I had come so far for just five days, but I was more intrigued, how they were there on a two week holiday, when Ireland was in such dire financial straits. They explained that they were all school teachers working in Dubai, instead of taking their contracted flights home for half term, they exchanged them for tickets to China. Flying into Beijing and return from Shanghai, they were taking the bullet train to Shanghai, my previous plan. But what a coincidence this was, last Christmas, I had flown to Ireland via Frankfurt, Germany (cheaper fare and more elite miles), on my Lufthansa flight to Dublin, I was sat next to a young girl from Bray, County Wicklow and she was really excited about going home and seeing her family. I asked if she worked in Germany. No, she said, I am a school teacher in Dubai. I told the story to the girls and they could not believe it, they did not know her intimately, but did know of a girl in another school who was from Wicklow. They would look her up when they went back. I would love to have seen the look on her face when they explain this. We eventually got to the Mutianyu section of the wall just after 10am, virtually everyone on he bus slept, but I found the scenery fascinating. After passing the airport, the traffic thinned out to almost nothing, especially after we passed a couple of retail and industrial parks, whose vast parking lots were almost empty. After that we only saw the occasional three wheel pick-up or truck, even in the towns an villages we passed through, there were very few cars, quiet a contrast to Beijing. Upon arrival, Lucy announced that lunch would be served in the little restaurant she had pointed out down the road, at 2:30pm. The bus would leave at 4pm sharp, and we had till then to do what we wanted. Lucy stood by the chair lift ticket window, while we bought our discounted tickets, (¥80 instead of ¥120) and handed out the Wall passes. Some people actually inquired if they could walk up, sure Lucy said, but it will take you a while. Although we were high up in the mountains, only small parts of the wall were visible from the parking lot, it was much higher up a very steep grade. I learned later that they had not only scaled the step gradient, they also ran the length of the Mutianyu section of wall, while not very long, only two and a half kilometers, it is all up and down, but also climbed back down. This section of the wall is the furthest from Beijing and gets the least amount of tourists, which suits me fine, this morning, by Chinese standards, it was virtually deserted. The two and a half kilometers covers twenty two watch towers, the chair lifts goes up to tower five, while the cable car goes to tower fourteen. The choices upon reaching tower five were completely opposites, the wall down to tower four was extremely steep with an even steeper climb up to tower three, my knee hurt just looking at it. Turning towards towers six, seven and eight, while still very undulating were nowhere near as extreme as what lay behind me. It was a glorious sunny spring day, not a cloud in the sky and temperatures heading towards the low 80’s F (high 20’s C), with this in mind, I had brought a 2 liter bottle of vitamin fortified water with me, much to the chagrin of a little lady sitting in the shade of tower six, who was selling refreshments (beer, soda & water) and snacks. A young guy was arguing with her over the price of a snicker bar, she wanted ¥30, he said it should be ¥3, she was winning, of course. I climbed onto the roof of tower six and could see the three Irish girls far in the distance, between towers eight and nine. The view from the top of the tower was even more magnificent than from the wall, even though it was only twenty feet higher. It was obviously strategic, as one could see the base of the wall and there for direct defenses. The wall appeared to be on the ridge of every mountain, in every direction, making the engineering feat more impressive than it already was. I have seen documentaries on television about how the wall was built on the borders with Mongolia, where the terrain is flatter, but how they built this colossus on top of all these mountains is truly mind boggling. After passing tower eight, I sat down to rest and was joined by a gentleman who had been sat in the back seat of the bus, he introduced himself as Lars, he was from Finland (my second Scandinavian in two days!) and in Beijing on business. We made some small talk about travel and then I moved on, I was anxious to make it as far as I could. Naturally I was snapping photos of everything in sight, but as I approached tower twelve, the perfect picture was framed in front of me. Tower twelve with the wall rising up behind it to towers thirteen and fourteen on the next ridge. I took some self portraits but then an Indian woman and her daughter walked up and offered to take some of me, I in turn took a few of them. When I exited twelve, up a very steep but short staircase, I was confronted with a rather daunting sight, ahead of me there was a monstrous staircase up to thirteen, my knee twitched, that was it, the end of my walk on the wall. I sat down on a large stone, (that had been situated to house a small cannon), to contemplate my achievement so far, I was quiet proud of myself. Within moments I was jointed by my huffing and puffing Finnish friend, he was way over dressed for the weather and terrain. I myself had worn a lightweight all-weather jacket for the morning chill, which I now had tied around my waist and I was now sporting my 2006 Chinese Formula One polo shirt, which I had bought at the race in Shanghai. It was getting some very quizzical and admiring looks. Despite the heat, Lars was not deterred by the stairs ahead, he purchased a beer (¥40, cheap for Finland) from the little old lady who had set up shop in the shadow of twelve, he downed it in one gulp and bid me adieu. I watched jealously as he lurched off into the distance, such is the price of only having one good knee. I took a swig of my vitamin water and headed back. Upon my arrival back at Tower five, I again contemplated the steep steps down to four, but thought better of it. The chair lift had an alternative means of descending down to the base, a toboggan sled that ran in a snaking concrete trough. It sounded exciting, but after watching for about ten minutes from the wall, it was very anti-climactic. Very stop start, as most people could not figure out how to apply the brakes gently going around the bends, there for clogging up the track and forcing the operators to suspend service every few minutes. If you could have a clear run, with nobody in front of you, it would be very exhilarating, so long as you did not crash! Of course, there was a very long line, which was another deterrent, besides, the view from the chair lift looking out into the valleys and the village below, was quiet breath taking. I opted for the chair. While descending and enjoying the panoramic views, I was not paying much attention to the people coming up, but a blond woman dressed in red, caught my attention. Not because of her blond hair, but because she was clutching twin blond boys, approx three years old. In the chair behind her, was her equally blond husband, clutching a huge backpack and a double stroller. I admired their gusto, but they were not going to get very far with that lot. Below me on the toboggan run, there were a lot of angry voices, nobody was getting up to speed for long. I had taken note of the guy with the brightly coloured ski jacket, who set off at the same time that I got in the chair lift, he arrived just before me. I had meant to buy a can of beer from the old lady at tower six, but I had breezed right past her, not realizing it until I back at five. Now, I was parched, so I headed for the Italian Expresso/Ice Cream parlor, where I got a ½ liter bottle Tsingtao for ¥30, a much better deal than the ¥40 per can up top. I took my beer outside to where all the coach drivers were smoking, drinking coffee and playing cards, they were almost as loud as the American teenage girls earlier, so I did not get to relax, enjoy my beer and revel in the moment. After looking around all the souvenir stands, most of whom were selling the same tat, I was in the mood for another beer but not the commotion, so I carried on down the hill towards the restaurant Lucy had pointed out. On the way I came across a Subway sandwich shop, there was no way I was crossing that threshold, I carried on and low and behold, I came upon a London taxi, I had seen one in Beijing on Saturday, surely this could not be the same one: Just around the bend was the restaurant, it was not even 1:30pm yet, so I had a long wait. All the outdoor tables were full, so I wandered inside hoping there was a bar, there was none, but there was a large display refrigerator case with Tsingtao in it. I grabbed one and offered some money to a waitress, she looked a little bemused, but took a twenty and gave me back a five change, I motioned for an opener and that I wanted to take it outside, she popped it open and smiled, nice. When I came out, there was a chef with a net trying to catch a fish out of a large holding tank, which I had not noticed on the way in. I have no idea what type of fish they were, but they were big and fast, it took him a few minutes to snag one, I secretly hoped some of him would end up in our lunch. Outside, the afternoon temperature had to be in the high eighties, with not a cloud in the sky, nor was there any shade in the parking lot, save for a small, almost leafless tree, that cast the flimsiest of shadows. Nearby was a small table and chairs, which I pulled over, I sat back to enjoy my cold beer and reflect on my life. Sitting here with a cold beer in the shadow of The Great Wall of China, pretty good for a boy from Tottenham, if I may say so myself. I was brought back to reality by the soft tones of woman’s voice, asking, can we share your table? I opened my eyes to see a beautiful young blond woman smiling at me, she had an equally beautiful young girl with her, I said “of course”. I inquired if they were waiting for lunch, no she said, “they were waiting for their driver to take them back to Beijing. She went on to explain, that this was her daughter and they were on the final day of a six month journey through, Cambodia, Vietnam and China. I commented “that was an amazing education for a ten year old, it’s going to be pretty tough going back to an ordinary school”. I asked where home was. She said Montreal, but they were moving to France in the summer, must be nice. Just as I was about to mention, that I had vacationed in France for the past three years, Lucy showed up, as did the blonds driver, I never got her name, but what a gutsy lady to go travelling around the Orient with a ten year old girl in tow. We were shown to two round tables upstairs and served a series of platters featuring rice, and noodle dishes, some vegetarian others with either chicken, pork, beef or shrimp, but no duck or fish. It was all very tasty, exuding more flavour than any Chinese food I have ever had in the U.S. or U.K. In fact since my first visit to China in 2005, I have eaten very little Chinese cuisine in the west. There were several absentees from lunch, notably Lars and the three Irish girls, Lars arrived half way through and had to settle for leftovers with his beer. The girls were coming down the roads as we finished. I was sat next to two guys from New Zealand, who were on a six week tour of China. Beijing was their first stop, then they were heading to Xian, Sichuan, and Shanghai, ending in Hong Kong, nice little jaunt. They were staying at a hostel that I had seriously considered on my last trip, Sitting on the City Walls Courtyard House, which had been in the reckoning for this trip, until Continental came up with a great rate for The Jade. The older of the two, who I think was the uncle, was originally from England, when I enquired more, he was actually from Stanmore, Middlesex, just north of London, where I went to junior high school, while I lived in Cricklewood, London NW2. Although the school was long gone, he remembered it, St. Thomas’s on Marsh Lane. Opposite me, were two girls (I think they were a couple) from Brighton, England, they had started out in Shanghai and taken the bullet train, which they raved about. As soon as the bus pulled out of the parking lot, everyone, except moi, fell asleep. I had managed to get the same seat as the ride out, so I would get a closer look at the other side of the road, I was really hoping the driver would take a different route back, but in hindsight, I suppose there was only one road to Beijing, however, when we got to the airport expressway it was at a standstill, so he made a left and I was delighted. It’s not that the scenery was anything spectacular, far from it, in the countryside the land was brown and the trees stark awaiting the buds of spring. In the outer suburbs, it was shiny new retail outlets next to shanty towns, as we approached the inner suburbs it was all tall towers of apartments and offices, a sea of concrete and glass. At this point I dozed off; next thing I knew, Lucy was shaking me awake, we were at the bottom of the The Jade’s lane, my great adventure over, sigh. I floated into the lobby and grabbed a beer from the fridge, what a day, I had to top it off with a roast duck dinner, so, as I paid for my beer at the desk, I asked the clerk “where is a really good duck restaurant”, she said, “we have a good duck here”, I told her I had tried it and wanted to experience some where else. Indicating straight with her arm, she said, “down the lane, cross the road and go one hundred meters on the right, Chenyu Changs. I said I knew where it was and thanked her. Indeed, I had looked in the window on my first day, it had been virtually empty and the menu in the window was only in Chinese, so I had no idea what kind of food they served. Upon entering the restaurant, I was immediately impressed by a warm wood paneled room with white table clothes, high backed wooden chairs and the delicious aroma of roasted meats in the air, my sense of expectation soared, I felt that I had reached Nirvana. I was shown to a fourtop table in the middle of the room and handed a large menu, I obviously only had eyes for one thing and high lightened at the top of the page was Roast Peking Duck, whole or half, carved tableside, A waitress appeared almost instantaneously and inquired in broken English, drinkie? I ordered a gin and tonic, this would be interesting, I thought, but she came back with a very good cocktail and smiled broadly when I nodded my approval. She indicated towards the menu and I pointed at the half duck with all its condiments, plus a bottle of Great Wall red wine, which seemed to surprise her. I sat back to enjoy my gin n’ tonic and soak up the ambiance, noticing that most of the gentlemen were drinking beer while the some of the ladies appeared to be drinking plain hot water, rather strange I thought, not even a teabag in it. My ears then picked up on some English being spoken louder than the general conversation level; I honed in on a party of approx ten American’s, mostly women, having dinner at a round table on the platform in the corner of the room. I then understood why my waitresses was surprised at the red wine, they were all passing around 2 liter bottles of Coca Cola, which is the normal beverage with Chinese food in the USA. A few minutes later, a young man in a chef’s uniform arrived at my table with a full roast duck on a cart; it was magnificent looking, crispy golden brown and smelt even better. With a few quick slashes of his knife he dissected the duck in half, then deboned all the lean meat onto two beds of lettuce and placed the leg and wing in a bowl. While he did this, the waitress brought a large tureen of cabbage soup, a sectional platter of condiments including scallions, celery, pickles, peppers and onions with hoisin sauce, a bamboo steamer full of paper thin pancakes, a basket of three hollow sesame rolls with watercress and the piece de resistance, a blue platter of tiny fruits set amid a cloud of dry ice. The presentation was absolutely beautiful and impeccably presented, I felt like an emperor. I ladled out some of the soup, which was the least appetizing item on the table, a milky liquid with pieces of cabbage floating on top, but I was very pleasantly surprised, it had a mild spicy nuttiness that did not over power, but merely complemented the on coming feast with its near blandness. Just then, the waitress re-appeared with my bottle of wine, as I tasted it, she demonstrated how to make the perfect Peking duck roll. She took one pancake (they were not easy to separate), spread a little hoisin sauce in the center, a piece of duck, one piece each off celery & scallion, a tiny bit each of pepper & onion, folded the bottom over the mixture, then the sides and presented it to me, I bit the top off and was immediately in seventh heaven, the taste sensations were over whelming. I was grinning like a Cheshire cat, as I thanked her over and over. As I finished the second, bite, she then showed me how to used the sesame buns, she broke one open, dabbed a little hoisin sauce inside, followed by two small pieces of duck and finished off with some watercress. As I bit into the bun my mouth again exploded with a savory eruption, if I died now, my life was complete. As my waitress departed I was left to ponder my dilemma, it was my last night, I needed so much more of this. Surveying the feast before me whilst cleansing my palate with a glass of the Great Wall cabernet, I realised I should take a photograph of this for posterity. As I took the shot, the lady at the table across from me gave me quizzical look, so I took her photo as well, which really surprised her! It was my last night in Beijing, my flight home was at 2:45pm and I had a car booked at the hotel for noon. My original plan was to go out bar hopping in the Sanlitun area and sleep late but that all went out the window after dinner. I checked what time the restaurant open for lunch, 11am. Sold, I was having a duck lunch before I left and in order to enjoy it properly, I would have to be up early to work up a good appetite. The alarm went off at 7am, after a quick cup of green tea; I headed off for my last walk around Beijing. It was an absolutely beautiful morning, clear blue skies and sixty degrees F., turning south on Beihayan Jie, I had no particular destination in mind, just a desire to build a good appetite for my duck lunch. Turning right on Donghuamen Jie towards the Forbidden City, there are two parks either side of the walkway from Tiananmen, I had explored one of them on my first morning so the other deserved investigation. It was nowhere near as interesting and I was back at the Tiananmen in a few minutes, swimming against the tide, I battled my way out through the gate for a last look at the vast square. The first thing I noticed was a proliferation of Irish flags, where there had only been Chinese last week, maybe some dignitary was visiting? And the vast crowds were already forming lines at Mao’s tomb. I headed west along Dong Chang An Jie, then right up Nan Chi Zi Da Jie, which brought me up behind the Jade and a last walk through the Hutong, perfect. I checked out at ten thirty, leaving my bag at reception and confirming my taxi for noon. I was a little early for the restaurant but it would not hurt to try the door, sure enough it opened, there were already quiet a few people having an early lunch. With great anticipation, I ordered the ½ duck lunch with a Tsingtao beer. The beer arrived immediately and I sat back to await my feast. As per the night before, it was not long before a young man in a chef’s uniform arrived with a full roast duck on a cart beside my table; just like his predecessor, in moments half of it was dissected and on my table. The waitress arrived with the assorted condiments, pancakes and the all important sesame rolls. There was no soup or fruit plate with the lunch, which was fine by me; I had approx forty five minutes to enjoy my last meal in Beijing and I was going to savor every morsel. When I walked back to the hotel I found my taxi waiting for me, oh well, the long trek home starts now, but you have to go home to leave again. This was the most awesome trip of my life.

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.