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RTW 4. Kiss and drop

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Thursday, 6 May 2010

Berlin, Germany

Woken at the crack of dawn by a strange presence in my room. A 5 year old girl. Who greets me in a very posh English accent, “Good morning, Taurean”. Before jumping on me. This is way too early to be playing.

Quick waltz around Braunschweig visiting old haunts before popping in to my old office to see former colleagues. Now running late for the ICE train to Berlin so race back to the car for a quick zoom across town to the station and quickly deposited at the aptly named ‘Kiss and drop’ layby. What a great name for a drop-off point.

Every station should have a ‘kiss and drop’ point.

Now have two minutes to sprint across the concourse and find the platform. Not easy with a 22kg rucksack. Not for the first time have I had to sprint across this concourse. Although, admittedly it was usually 0559hrs and 30 seconds for the 0600hrs train to Frankfurt. German trains are never late. But. Not today. Train is delayed 15 minutes. Not the German efficiency I know and love.

Torrential rain and freezing cold in Berlin. So not much sightseeing I’m afraid, dear reader.

Check in to the Swissotel (https://www.swissotel.com/hotels/berlin/accommodation/swiss-advantage-room/). Located on Kurfurstendam. Berlin’s Oxford Street.

And close to the Times Bar. An art deco cigar bar.

My guilty travel secret. A Cohiba Siglo VI Cuban cigar.

A fine Cuban cigar.

A Rusty Nail.

A good book.

Solitude.

Life is good.

RTW 3. A mother’s memory

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Wednesday, 5 May 2010

Braunschweig, Germany

Early departure to Koln on the Thalys train passing through Aachen. Have sentimental attachments to Koln and Aachen. Koln was the first place I worked as I moved to Germany in 1997. Aachen was where the research centre project I worked on was being built. Was only meant to be in Germany for a year. Loved it so much spent three years there. Forget France and Spain, dear reader. Give Germany a go for your next holiday. You’ll be surprised how much you enjoy it. And how friendly the people are. And most speak English.

Family history has also been traced and there’s a school of thought that a distant relation possibly came from Koln. So could be part German.

It would explain everything.

Koln’s domineering Gothic Cathedral is always magnificent and one of my favourite cathedrals. Very imposing and it’s a 533 step climb to the top of the tower. Quite frankly, I’m not getting any younger, dear reader, and may have had to stop for a breather. Once or twice. Stunning views with a flat as a pancake landscape reminds you you’re on the great North European Plain. Won’t see hills now until the Urals.

Back on the German ICE (Inter City Express) train to Braunschweig. The ICE trains are superb. The best in Europe. And ultra modern. Unlike the Wuppertal Schwebebahn we pass as we zoom by the city of Wuppertal. An 1898 monorail where the ‘train’ suspends from the rail. See video below. Used to travel Braunschweig-Koln and back by ICE each week for project meetings and always wanted to stop off in Wuppertal to travel on its monorail. But never did. Built over the river it follows its path for 13km.

Greeted at Braunschweig station by Miss Braunschweig. Lived in Braunschweig for three years between 1997 and 2000. We’ve been firm friends ever since. We’re practically twins. Born 25hrs apart. Dinner takes an interesting turn when she proclaims, “I’m in ze mood for telling you things!” Crikey. Well, dear reader, I find out stuff I never knew. But that’s for diary, dear reader. Not blog.

Being near the old West German/East German border at Helmstedt, Braunschweig was the first town the East Germans came to when the wall came down. Miss Braunschweig remembers the day they came. The whole town was full of Trabants polluting the city with their exhaust fumes belching out. The West German government were handing out 100 Deutsche Mark notes and bananas. Miss Braunschweig celebrated New Year’s Eve that year actually on the Berlin Wall near the Brandenburg Gate. So many people were celebrating and she recounts that when she jumped down to the east side of the wall she suddenly had this fear that the border would be locked again and she’d be captured in the east.

Meet her Mum when we get back who just happens to be watching a film called ‘Dresden’. Which gets us into conversation about World War 2 and her memories of the time.

Mum was born in 1936 and so a small girl during the war. She vividly remembers the night that 90% of Braunschweig was bombed by the British RAF. It was terrible. The horrific noise of the air raid sirens. The bombs screaming down. The night sky ablaze with fire. They lived in a village on the outskirts so, thankfully, weren’t in the direct line of bombardment but still had to hide in the air raid shelter. Mum’s father owned a factory making hats, shirts and coats and as such had to become a member of the Nazi Party. No choice in the matter. At the end of the war they were living in a large house in the best residential area of Braunschweig. One day the American Army knocked on the door at 1000hrs and told them to vacate their home by 1800hrs that day so the Americans could use the large house for their own purposes. The family had to comply. Fortunately the Americans came knocking and not the Russians. Mum’s father had said that if the Russians got close he would kill all his family rather than let the Russians loose on them as the Russians had a reputation for rape, torture and murder.

Mum’s father always carried cyanide on him just in case it came to that.

Just think about that for a moment, dear reader.

The family vacated the family home that day with most of their possessions and found somewhere else to live.

They’d had eight hours.

However, Mum had forgotten one of her dolls so went back to the house, on her own, the next day to see if she could get it. An American soldier saw her outside the house and she explained what had happened. American soldier lifted her over the barbed wire fence so she could go inside the house to retrieve her doll.

A few months later the British were in town (Bergen-Belsen concentration camp not being too far away) and one British soldier had some chocolate to hand out to the local children. Something they never had through the war, along with bananas. Mum looked at the soldier all sorrowful and head bowed. So he gave her extra chocolate.

Mum is giggling as she recalls this particular memory.

Lest we forget.

RTW 2. The Man In Seat 61

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Tuesday, 4 May 2010

Brussels, Belgium

0500hrs alarm call. There’s only one 5 o’clock in my day. This isn’t it. Television bursts into life as the alarm. Scares the life out of me. Think I’ve got intruders in my room. Was expecting a phone call.

Grumpy little ogre.

No sleep you see.

Heave 22kg rucksack onto my back. Short walk down Euston Road to St Pancras for Eurostar to Brussells Gare du Midi.

Reserved seat 61 in recognition of The Man in Seat Sixty-One. Probably the best website dedicated to rail travel around the world. Check it out www.seat61.com. Invaluable in planning this journey.

Arrive Gare du Midi in Brussells. Had the unfortunate pleasure of doing this route just over a week ago. Working in Frankfurt, Germany, when the European airspace was closed due to volcanic ash in the atmosphere caused by a volcano erupting in Iceland. Colleague and I were stuck so took the train from Frankfurt via Koln, Brussels and London to Nottingham to get back home for the weekend.

Make my way to Heysel. Scene of ugly football hooliganism in 1985 when Juventus played Liverpool in the European Cup final. Not here for football though. It’s the location of Atomium (www.atomium.be). A scaled up version of the atoms in a ferrite crystal. Scaled up 165 billion times that is. At over 100m high it was built in 1958 for the Expo. Escalators take you up the structure in the tubes between the ‘atoms’ and each ‘atom’ has an exhibition on different aspects.

Back at ground level catch the first tram that comes along. Can’t find anywhere to buy a ticket. Jump on anyway. Will do my little lost foreign tourist act if ticket inspector pops up. No idea where we’re going. Am on a magical mystery tour. Spontaneity is the order of the day. End up in some dodgy suburb. You think Britain has immigration problems. Bloody hell. You should come to Brussells. It’s startling. The Lesser Spotted Taurean beats a hasty retreat.

Eventually find my way to more salubrious surroundings and find an open top Hop on/Hop off Red Bus. Seems like a good idea. There’s a red bus at the roadside. Waiting. Pay the EUR20 but then told I’ve got to walk 10 mins to the start and wait for a red bus. WHAT?!? What’s wrong with this bus? It’s always the same isn’t it. They lull you into thinking that it’s the bus where they take the money off you. Got wise to that over the years, dear reader.

Sadly, the lack of sleep last night takes its toll.

Nod off on the bus.

In so doing camera drops off my lap.

And smashes on the bus floor.

It’s only day two.

The sole reason for checking in to the Euro Capital Hotel (http://euro-capital.hotelsbrussels.net/en/) is that it’s across the road from the Gare du Midi station and suitable for an early start tomorrow.

Five star it is not.

RTW 1. You look trendy types

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AROUND THE WORLD IN 60 DAYS BLOG – TENTH ANNIVERSARY

Well, dear reader, coronavirus lockdown continues so going to bore you with my Around the World in 60 Days trip I did in May and June 2010. This being the blog for the tenth anniversary. Travelled by train from Nottingham, across Europe to Moscow then the Trans Siberian Railway to Vladivostok before flying to South Korea and travelling by train down to the southern tip, ferry to Japan, train across Japan then fly to Vancouver and train all the way across Canada to Halifax before heading to St John’s and flying back to the UK.

The idea for this trip formed whilst waiting in the Business Class lounge at Manchester Airport back in January 2010 to board a flight to Doha, Qatar, for a business trip. Wanted something memorable to do for my 40th in April 2010. Originally was only going to do the Trans Siberian Express but when looking at the map realised I may as well continue eastwards to Canada. What started out as a two week trip trundling the tracks of the Trans Siberian turned into 60 days around the world. At the time this was the longest trip I’d ever done. Though as you’ve since read, it lay the foundations for more ambitious journeys.

So here goes. Fasten your seatbelts. Settle down, have a brew and enjoy armchair travelling with me around the world.

Monday, 3 May 2010

London, UK

Cold, wet and miserable when dropped off at the bus stop. Say fond farewells to family. Eldest niece bursts into tears. At least someone’s going to miss me.

Bus to Nottingham is full of the dregs of society. Train to London is full of the dregs of society. I’m in the minority. Young lad with baseball hat and baggy jeans (you know the sort) plonks himself down next to me and asks if I’m going to move my newspapers on the table in that ‘move them or I’ll stab you’ sort of way. Duly oblige.

Arranged to meet Girl 1 for afternoon tea in London. Was meant to be having dinner but this was downgraded to afternoon tea when Girl 2 rang to say she’d be in London tonight. Had to do a bit of delicate juggling. Can do delicate juggling when needs must. Didn’t go down too well with Girl 1. An opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, dear reader. Girl 1 suspects Girl 2 is the reason for downgrade. What a tangled web we weave. Hope they’re not reading this.

All around the world trips must start at the Reform Club. As Phileas Fogg and Michael Palin demonstrated. Head to Pall Mall to discover the door shut. It being a Bank Holiday. Make do with obligatory photos outside the door. Has to be done.

Farewell Girl 1. Hello Girl 2. Excellent dinner overlooking the city skyline. You know when you’re so engrossed in each other’s conversation you don’t realise where the time has gone? Well, dear reader, discover we’ve been talking and laughing so much that the restaurant has now shut and we’re the only people left. Along with the cleaner.

Taxi to another bar for nightcaps. Ask driver for recommendations. “You look trendy types”, says he. Which amuses. I’m about as trendy as a pair of 1970s brown flared trousers.

Eventually climb into bed at 0130hrs.

Have to be up in three and a half hours.

Someone’s going to be a grumpy little ogre in the morning.

NK 16. You want sexy girl?

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Sunday, 23 April 2017

Beijing, China

Leisurely day trip to the Great Wall of China at Mutianyu. When I worked here in 1996, managed to grab a day trip to the wall at Badaling. Back then hired a car and driver for the day for about 2p. Substantially more now. Capitalist lot. Back then the car was a clapped out banger that barely made it there and back. Now it’s a modern taxi. With seatbelts. And air-conditioning and radio. Back then driver stopped off at a grotty unhygienic shack for his lunch whilst I ate a cheese sandwich from the breakfast buffet and a Snickers. Now I eat a cheese sandwich from the breakfast buffet and a Snickers. The more life changes. The more it stays the same. Back then the driver spoke no English and there were no mobile phones. Now the driver speaks a little English and has two smartphones. He’s communicating with his mate by recording WhatsApp voice messages. Wish he’d concentrate on driving. Back then it was bitterly cold, proper sub zero temperatures of around minus 10C. Now it’s a beautiful Spring day, blue sky and warm.

Chairlift up to the Great Wall section at Tower 6 for a walk to Tower 7 and back again and then descend by a metal toboggan run. The Great Wall has become a theme park.

Great Wall snakes along the mountainous terrain with watch towers every few hundred metres. Wall is very steep in places and about 10ft wide. Built over a number of centuries by various dynasties but the most well known sections were generally built around the 15th and 16th centuries. It’s about 13,000 miles long.

Fly back tomorrow on Lufthansa into Frankfurt and then back home. I’ll be sipping champagne, eating caviar and enjoying a fillet steak with a nice glass or two of red. This time tomorrow. In my First Class Suite. Oh yes. Looing forward to that.

Final night in the hotel.

Having had dinner, walk back to the lift to go to my room. As I walk across the lobby see a beautiful young Chinese girl talking on her phone.

She waves to me as though she recognises me. Can only assume it’s a member of the hotel reception team I’ve met at check in. Or some such thing.

Smile back not sure who she is.

She follows me into the lift.

I’m suspicious.

Let her choose her floor first and she goes to a public accessible floor. Bedroom floors requiring a key card.

Lift doors shut.

There’s just me and her.

She turns to me and says:

“You want sex massage…I call girl for you?” As she waves her mobile at me.

ER NO!

And with that she gets out at next floor saying:

“You’re a very big boy!”

 

Good night, dear reader, there endeth the North Korea blog. I hope it’s kept you mildly entertained and given you something else to read about other than coronavirus.

NK 15. Anything to declare?

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Saturday, 22 April 2017

Beijing, China

0500hrs alarm for an early check out for the airport run. Hotel needs to check our rooms to ensure we haven’t stolen anything. Two in our group have twice been accused of stealing towels in two hotels when in actual fact the hotel hadn’t put towels there in the first place.

Bought a copy of the Pyongyang Times newspaper last night along with a watercolour painting in the hotel souvenir shop. What a palaver. The watercolour painting is rolled up in a tube. Suggest that she roll up the Pyongyang Times together with it to make it easier to pack. She replies, “It’s not allowed!” She has to roll up the Pyongyang Times separately, and carefully, in its own wrapping. Can’t be folded up.

The reason.

Dear reader.

Is this.

The front page has a photo of Kim Jong-Un. It is forbidden in the DPRK to fold a newspaper as that may cause a crease across Kim.

I.

Kid.

You.

Not.

Dear.

Reader.

It’s disrespectful.

Sunrise as we drive through deserted streets and wide boulevards and along the river road. Locals doing early morning exercises on the paths facing the sun. A sort of tai chi exercise. A long line of locals lined up along the river path silhouetted against the rising sun. The start of another beautiful day in the DPRK.

Each apartment balcony seems to have many flower pots with colourful flowers. Even at this early hour see locals planting grass or weeding grass verges and watering with a plastic bottle which has had holes cut in to act like a sprinkler. Make do and mend.

Arrive at the brand new airport terminal building which the DPRK should be rightly proud of. All gleaming and new. Our group are the only passengers in it.

Fill in the customs declaration and exit card. Getting ready for a right old hoo-ha trying to get out of the country. Fond farewells to our guides who have been fantastic, fun and friendly. Probably the best two tour guides I’ve had on a tour. Have been asked not to name them. So won’t.

Check in opens. Bag is x-rayed just behind the check in desk. Remember my USB flash drive with all my photos backed up is hidden in suitcase.

Heart sinks when suitcase pings up something on x-ray. Security man has found something he wants to investigate. Clucking bell. Do not want my photos of this memorable trip confiscating.

He shows me an item on the x-ray that has aroused suspicion. He’s young, very friendly and amiable and speaks good English. Not even I know what it is. Don’t think it’s the USB flash drive as I thought that was in another part of the case. He and I both have a rummage inside my suitcase trying to find the small rectangular metallic object. For the life of us, neither of us can find the object. Practically empty my belongings in the search for a small metallic object. After a lot more rummaging it’s clear it’s not in the main body of the suitcase. I only find the object by accidentally touching the lining of the outer pocket.

You’ll never guess what it was.

A metal miniature Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Ah ha. So that’s where it went!

Bought it a few weeks prior to my DPRK trip when in Florence and Pisa. Had completely forgotten about it. Pack suitcase and it’s finally put on the baggage handling conveyor. Complete with my USB flash drive. Relieved to watch it disappear. At least I’ve got a complete set of all my photographs out of the country.

Having faffed about with suitcase x-ray at check in I’m now last through hand luggage x-ray and body scanner. Have a long list of kit on my customs declaration form so anticipating a full interrogation of each electronic item to ensure nothing untoward is being taken out of the country. Preparing for the worst, you can imagine my surprise and delight when security just takes my customs declaration form and waves me through. WHAT?!?! No interrogation?!?! Oh come on guys. Just give me a little bit of a hard time so I can get that authentic totalitarian state experience. I’ve had more grief at Birmingham airport trying to get a jar of Marmite through security (still miffed about the loss of a jar of Marmite, dear reader, oh yes, still miffed). But no. It’s all very friendly and laid back. Not at all like it’s made out in the western media. A few months after returning to the UK a newspaper published some crappy photos of street life in the DPRK and remarked that they were ‘secret’ photos that had to be ‘smuggled’ out. Cobblers. Nothing like that at all. I’ve got more ‘risqué’ photos of life in the DPRK than those published. I’ve got photos of missiles and tanks and military and bridges and tunnels. Don’t believe everything you read in the press, dear reader.

Having already gone through the body scanner am asked to stand on a small step so the petite young female guard can waft her magic wand over me (that’s not a euphemism, dear reader). Towering much more over her now I’m on a step, drop my knees about a foot to try and come down to her level to make it easier for her. Her male colleagues crack up laughing. She’s giggling too at my antics and tells me it’s OK to stand properly albeit that she can’t now reach my shoulders.

Air Koryo flight takes off in good time and soon land in Beijing though could do without the 1hr queue through immigration on arrival.

Check in to the Hilton Hotel (https://www.hilton.com/en/hotels/bjscahi-hilton-beijing-capital-airport/). Have enjoyed the DPRK immensely but it is nice to get back to civilisation. And a phone signal. And internet connection. And contact with the outside world.

First thing is to check voicemails. Have had no phone signal for over a week. There’s a number of voicemails including one from Mum and two from Dad.

Dad never rings.

There must be something wrong at home.

Dad sounds panicked.

Dad doesn’t panic.

They both say they’re returning my voice message where I ask them to ring me back.

This was a voice message I left when I was at home a week or so before I left for the DPRK.

They’ve just discovered the voice message on the answerphone the past few days. They think it’s me ringing from the DPRK. They think it’s me ringing to say goodbye. I’m a human shield now.

A colleague has left a voicemail. The sort of colleague who doesn’t come across as caring and giving a toss about my welfare.

He sounds panicked.

Return their calls. It all becomes clear.

Remember, dear reader, we have had no contact with the outside world apart from the odd snippet on Al-Jazeera when in Pyongyang. We do not know what has been happening in the big wide world. Unbeknownst to us, it’s apparently all been kicking off whilst we’ve been away and the western media have been seemingly blowing things out of all proportion and that we’re heading for nuclear war with the DPRK.

Whilst little old me is on holiday in the DPRK.

Even old (as in longevity) friend’s mother was apparently concerned for my welfare.

NK 14. The Spice Girls

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Friday, 21 April 2017

Pyongyang, North Korea

Quick waltz around the ski resort after breakfast. Patches of snow on the ski slopes still and chairs move slowly on the chair lift. Not sure why. We appear to be the only guests in the hotel. Hotel workers outside are wearing white fur hats to channel that Alpine look. Forbidden from taking photos though.

4hr drive back to Pyongyang back the way we came along the Bucking Bronco road but this time treated to stunning views as it’s a bright blue sky day rather than the rain storm we had coming.

Everyone is working the fields. See the odd tractor but mainly ox and plough which seems slow progress. Very mountainous region at first but soon opens out to a very wide valley with mountains either side. Less paddy fields and more soil based crops. Mobile loudspeakers atop a van play music to the farmers working their fields. For the cause.

Stop again at the Sinphyong Tea House about half way to Pyongyang. This time the reservoir is full so no locals scraping lake bed mud for fertiliser. The waitresses are undergoing staff training. Makes you wonder why. It’s not a busy road. It’s not a busy rest stop. There are no customers. Apart from us. Wearing high heels and bright red uniforms looks out of place in this place.

Told that state run farms account for 10% of the land whilst co-operative farms have 90% of the land. State farmers are paid as you would be in a factory and the state farms are generally mechanised (with ancient tractors). Co-operative farms are more manual work with ox and plough. Farmers work ten days then go to market to sell their wares. Income from which is put back into the co-op.

Also told that we are not allowed to ask questions about the Kims and that the DPRK has a right to defend itself and it is not for the USA to tell anyone that they can’t have nuclear missiles. The missile technology partly comes from Russia but is generally developed by DPRK scientists.

Approaching the outskirts of Pyongyang there’s a brief stop at the Monument to the Three Point Charter for National Reunification. A massive archway over the motorway topped by two female figures, their long flowing dresses forming the arches. South Korea is due to hold a general election soon and the liberal candidate wants to hold meaningful talks with the DPRK regarding reunifying the peninsula. Only time will tell.

Lunch in Pyongyang is fun and excruciating at the same time. Given a ‘concert’ by the local Spice Girls. Dressed in various costumes and doing a song and dance routine. They’re taking this seriously. Quite high pitched. I had to experience it dear reader. And so must you! See video below.

Having been to Moscow and marvelling at the underground stations I had an idea of what to expect in the Pyongyang Metro. Descending on a 150m long escalator find a cavernous station with ornate chandeliers. For some inexplicable reason, we are allowed to take photos of the trains and platforms but not the tunnels. As you will see, dear reader, I take a photo of a tunnel. Though not without some grumbling from the female platform attendant who is not liking my antics and a very nervous guide. But. I get the long exposure photo I want. But instructed to show the platform attendant the photo to make sure she’s happy that it doesn’t break the rules. Fortunately she is happy. Taurean charm you see.

All stations have an interactive map on the wall. You push a button of your destination and it illuminates the route. Board a train for the four stops to the Triumphant Arch. A crowded carriage and a few locals, including an old man and women, vacate their seats for the women in our group. Can you imagine that happening on the London Underground?! Quite.

At the designated stop we alight and it’s quite clear that as I jump off the train the natives are not expecting a 6’5” giant to appear from the carriage. Startled is one word I would use to describe their manner.

As we exit the station notice yet again a male and female milling around by the doors dressed in black. They look out of place and assume they’re State Security. Keeping an eye on us.

The Triumphant Arch has the date of 1925 inscribed in the stonework. The year when Kim Il-Sung left Korea vowing to gain independence. At 60m high there’s fortunately a lift inside to take us to a large high ceilinged hall which, in effect, straddles the sides and forms the top of the arch. Once outside on the viewing balcony at the 45m level we have amazing views across Pyongyang. Realise how colourful Pyongyang is with all the brightly painted buildings.

Down below us is the Kim Il-Sung Stadium with a capacity of 100,000 people. Its tarmac car park has tennis courts marked out. A couple of minivans with loudspeakers on the roof play music whilst people play tennis. There’s an obsession with loudspeakers playing music. For the cause.

Pass the Juche Tower, a 150m high tower with a 20m, 45 tonne, metal red flame atop, illuminated at night as a beacon across the city. Built in 1982 to celebrate the 70th birthday of Kim Il-Sung there’s apparently a stone for each day of his life. Now, dear reader, you’re probably wondering what ‘Juche’ means. It underpins the whole philosophy of life in the DPRK. At a very high level and in a nutshell…that of self sufficiency. It being two syllables ‘Ju’ meaning ‘master’ and ‘che’ meaning ‘one’s self’. It also extends to DPRK time as they use the Juche calendar. Juche time is counted from the Gregorian year 1912, the year of birth of Kim Il-Sung. So in 2017, it’s Juche 105.

Return to the Yanggakdo Hotel (www.north-korea-travel.com/yanggakdo-hotel.html) for a third and final time. Again, all in the same room as on the previous two occasions. Rather hoping that no one else has been using my room. The soap I was using from a few days ago is still in the soap dish. Quite attached to ‘my’ room. It has its little quirks. The bedside cabinet with a built in radio alarm clock that doesn’t appear to work but which has a lot of seemingly unnecessary cables for a radio alarm clock coming out the back. There are rumours that this hotel is bugged and that there’s a central communication room monitoring people on the infamous ‘hidden’ 5th floor. Just a rumour. But. You know. You’ll be Googling that now, won’t you dear reader.

Final night of the trip. Celebratory dinner to finish the tour off. Walk down Scientist Street to the restaurant. Scientist Street is lined with what appear to be superficially modern, brightly coloured new apartment blocks and offices in an assortment of interesting designs and architecture. So called as the ‘street’, well it’s a wide boulevard really, provides housing for the intelligent workers like scientists and teachers.

During the final night’s frivolity which included downing bottles of 25% proof rice wine (the noise level increased substantially as the wine level in the bottle went down) a few wise words from our guides. Delete any photos of military or we may get stopped at the airport in the morning. The authorities may either delete a particular photo or delete all images on the camera card. Depends how they feel.

So, dear reader, it’s a late night backing up photos on various sources in an attempt to get them all out of the country. Have read the horror stories. I’m not taking any chances.

Set 1. Laptop has all photos in an easy to find directory. The sacrificial lamb. In case it all goes Pete Tong.

Set 2. Laptop has a further directory hidden in the depths of various file paths with all photos copied there. You’d have to make a concerted effort to find them.

Set 3. SLR camera has all photos on the DCIM part of the memory card. The easy to find part of the memory card visible in the camera images preview. Sacrificial lamb number two.

Set 4. SLR camera has all photos copied on the USB data part of the memory card. The hidden part of the memory card that doesn’t show in the camera images preview.

Set 5. Compact camera has all photos on the DCIM part of the memory card. The easy to find part of the memory card visible in the camera images preview. Sacrificial lamb number three.

Set 6. Compact camera has all photos copied on the USB data part of the memory card. The hidden part of the memory card that doesn’t show in the camera images preview.

Set 7. A small USB flash drive with all photos backed up hidden in my suitcase.

Set 8. Mobile phone camera has its photos backed up.

So.

Think I’ve covered all bases.

NK 13. Snow and skis

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Thursday, 20 April 2017

Masikyrong, North Korea

Guide checks all our rooms before we depart to ensure we haven’t left anything incriminating. Only seems to be doing it here. Suspect it’s because of our location close to the border with South Korea. Ten miles away.

It’s to be a 3hr morning walk up the valley to the Kuryong Waterfalls. Beautiful scenery and how I imagine Yosemite Park, in California, would be like. Smooth stone cliff faces and pine trees. Cross a number of bridges over the crystal clear river below. Raging torrent it is not. Bit of a dribble in places. Having huffed and puffed all the way there, the path culminates in an observation pagoda overlooking the waterfalls. Falls quite impressive. A further walk to the very top of falls to see the Fairy Pools is possible but soon give up on that idea when I meet people coming down who have also given up as it’s so steep. The brave and young make it though and record that it was worth the hike.

Very peaceful as I walk back down the valley on my own. Until. A gaggle of girls appear. All dressed in green uniforms. It’s the Youth Section of the Party. On a day out. Wave to say hello and all wave back saying hello. Very friendly.

And again with the second and third group of girls. Wave and say hello. All wave back. All very friendly.

This continues the theme that everyone we have met in the DPRK is very friendly. Not at all how it’s portrayed in the western media.

Interesting lunch in the Mokran Restaurant back at the start of the trail being overlooked by a frog band last seen in Paul McCartney’s Frog Chorus video (see photo below). It’s cook it yourself meat on a red hot stone. With assorted salads and kimchi. Am at risk of overdosing on kimchi. A large boulder is presented at your place setting atop a burner. Place the meat on top of the stone and cook it to your liking. Great fun. But. All actions have consequences. The cooking meat gives off smoke. Not so bad if it were just one stone. But no. There’s fifteen or us. All cooking on individual hot stones at the same time. The dining room is soon thick with the fog of cooking meat. Windows have to be opened.

Passes and documentation handed back and checked at the various check points as we exit the Mount Kumgang area. Back the way we came. Along the coast road. Lots of boats out in the bay and assume it’s a military exercise. Seems like they’re preparing for war given the rhetoric by both the USA and the DPRK at this point in time.

Stop at the Sijung Beach Resthouse again. Discover they sell Sprite. The Sijung Beach Resthouse has a run on Sprite.

Return to Wonsan and late afternoon stroll along the causeway to Jangdok Islet. Housing a lighthouse. Walk along the way with young female guide.

And chat about life in the DPRK. Here’s an insight into life in the DPRK.

The lapel badges they wear, featuring the faces of the Kims, are only available to people over 18 and only to DPRK citizens. It can be awarded to foreigners who promote the DPRK (hoping I’ll get one with this blog!) though not tourists.

People wearing green uniforms are workers but people wearing green uniform with epaulettes are military. Blue uniforms are for police.

She’s 26, lives with Mum, Dad and younger sister in an apartment in Pyongyang. She works six days a week and has Sunday off. Saturday night her and her friends like to go to karaoke. Her and her Mum have a glass of European wine each night (imported from China no doubt) and Mum makes homemade schnapps with various berries/fruit (much like our own homemade sloe/damson gin). Her doctor told her to not drink beer as it’s bad for her liver. But the wine is OK?! Studied English at university in Pyongyang (her English is very good) along with a bit of Chinese. After the university course, she took a month’s course to learn how to be a tour guide and has been doing this job for three years but doesn’t get paid well as it’s ‘so-so’. It’s normal to have two guides per group. We have a young female guide and an older male guide, about 50. Tourists are not allowed to leave the hotels as the guides need to keep us all contained. On the question of bowing everywhere it’s out of respect and the same as us westerners shaking hands. We are able to email the DPRK tour company that she works for but the guides don’t have their own email address, as they have no access to the outside world. We would have to send something by postal mail to her home address if we wanted to send anything but with the obvious and unsaid that this would be checked by the state.

Apparently our group is a very good group as we all get on and have fun but another English group (consisting of four men) we saw in Pyongyang a few days ago on another short tour were a complete nightmare according to their guide. They would open a bottle of whisky in the morning and drink all day. And that, dear reader, is the type of tourist you’ll find slapped in solitary confinement for ten years! The guides have told us about foreigners being thrown in jail for the simple reason that they were being idiots and disrespecting the Kims. It’d be like a foreigner coming to England doing something stupid, disrespecting the Queen and breaking the law. He’d be slapped in jail. You would have no sympathy for them. You’d be the first to shout “throw away the key!”

All along the causeway we see mussel beds denoted by buoys floating out in the bay. I say buoys. Buoys suggests a properly made marker buoy. What I actually mean is anything that floats. Like polystyrene crates or plastic drums. Locals cooking fresh oysters on charcoal barbeques. Fisherman mending nets and ropes. People partying on the small strip of beach with a loudspeaker. Nice relaxed atmosphere. Very seasidey. Very Bournemouth.

At the top of the islet is the lighthouse but unfortunately what would be good views are tempered by trees getting in the way. It’s a very pleasant end to the day strolling along the causeway chatting with locals and our guide.

An 8km long tunnel along the smoothest tarmac we’ve experienced in the country leads us from Wonsan to the ski resort of Masikyrong. Yes, dear reader, you read that right. A ski resort.

The Hotel Masikyrong (https://www.pyongyang-travel.com/portfolio/masik-ryong-hotel/) is brand new and one of the best in the DPRK. Very Alpine rooms. You’d be forgiven for thinking you were in an Tyrolean hotel. All pine walls, floors and ceilings. Snow on the pistes too.

And the highlight at dinner?

To everyone’s delight.

Ice cream.

Little things in the land of little, dear reader. Little things.

NK 12. Piano playing

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Wednesday, 19 April 2017

Mount Kumgang, North Korea

Breakfast in the garish banqueting room. A long table is laid out with a breakfast buffet and a hot water urn and tea/coffee etc. Naturally, I go and make my own tea.

As soon as I do the others shout, “Nooo….”

Stopped in my tracks from making that all important first brew. That much needed first brew.

Am told it’s waitress service. Look around to see said waitress appear. She is not happy that I’ve done her job and made my own brew. Not happy at all, dear reader. Miffed even.

Ask for sugar but am told no. There’s going to be a rumpus if I don’t have sugar in my brew.

Fellow travellers donate their sugar cubes. Sugar is being rationed.

Served omelette and toast with the smallest pat of butter. Which doesn’t last long. About the corner of one of the slices of toast.

So I ask for more. All Oliver like.

Dear God. It’s not going well. I can’t have more butter. I am told. That’s it.

Oh well.

Can I have another brew please.

That sends the waitresses into a tizz. A discussion ensues between them as to whether I can be served another brew.

Involves one young waitress running to the kitchen to ask if I can have another brew.

A second brew eventually arrives on the table. After a lot of commotion. Deary me.

The hotel is on the beach. Pristine golden sands the like of which I’ve never seen before. Perfect beach. But it’s empty. Devoid of tourists. Shame as it’s a really nice hotel. It deserves more people.

Hamhung’s top tourist attraction is…wait for it…you’ll like this…

A fertiliser factory!

And we get a guided tour.

Actually located about 9km from Hamhung in an adjacent town called Hungnam. Clearly the jewel in the Hungnam tourist crown as we are told it’s OK to take photographs. Which surprises.

Introduced to the 71 year old Chief Engineer who retired a few years ago after 47 years of working at the same factory. A real character and I bet he’d be good to have a beer with. Taken to the compressor hall where a number of 4,000HP compressors that were installed in the 1950s are still going strong. The electrical controls are antique but seemingly still work. Huge murals on display at the gable end of the factory…for the cause. Fascinating place.

As we make our way through the 2km x 2km complex every inch of soil you see is given over to cultivating crops. Even the soil between pylon legs. People playing volleyball in one of the side streets obviously on a break.

Allowed in the main reception building but sadly the only place we can’t take photos. For some inexplicable reason. The lobby is a grand hallway with tall wooden doors, Stalinist in style, leading into a large conference room.

Fertiliser factory tour finished it’s the Dongbong Co-operative Farm next. On the outskirts of town. Met by a local guide but all conscious of a couple of men in black lurking about watching us. We’ve been more aware of this outside Pyongyang and assume they’re State Security. A couple of men in black were also watching us yesterday at the Kim statues.

Guide delights in telling us that the mosaic of Kim Il-Sung standing in a field of crops denotes the time he visited the farm. It has a farm shop. Not the sort you’d find in your local rural village. No. See photos below. Bit different to that. Kim Il-Sung rocks up at the farm shop and tells them to put more stock on display. So they did. You did as instructed. No discussion.

Now, there’s an assortment of biscuits, sweets, drinks, dried fish and a whole storage bin of salt on one side of the shop. The other side of the shop has brightly coloured wellies, shoes, cloth and dresses.

Encouraged to buy some sweets and biscuits for the kindergarten though some refuse on ethical grounds. Poor kids. What kid doesn’t like a treat now and then.

Kindergarten next door to the shop is brilliant. Teacher is playing an organ contraption in the classroom and the kids are singing. The organ works by teacher pumping a foot pedal to generate the needed air flow. Looks ancient but each classroom has one. And they clearly work. See video below.

One of my fellow travellers has had the genius idea of bringing a Polaroid camera. She takes a photo of a kid. Gives the white blank film to them. Shows them how to waft it about. And wait. Until the photo develops.

There’s a little boy of about 4 sitting on the front desk in military uniform. You can tell he’s a cheeky boy by the way he smiles. His photo is taken and is given a blank white film strip. As it develops, his face comes through on the photo and he sees it. The look on his face is priceless. Would make your heart melt, dear reader.

He’s so chuffed and surprised at what’s happening before his eyes. A few of the women in the group start crying tears of joy. I’m not an emotional person, dear reader, but may have got a little emotional myself. He’s just so happy that he has this photo of himself. He’s so captivated by it. See the photos below, dear reader, and you’ll have a heart of stone if you don’t go, “Aaah”. He starts showing his mates his photo. He’s so excited. They’ve got one as well but not quite as excited about the westerners shoving things in their hands they’ve never seen before. I mean, can you imagine. You’re 4 years old. You live in the DPRK. You know nothing about the outside world. All of a sudden, a load of white people walk in to your class, point some plastic machine at you and give you a photograph. Of you.

One of the rooms in the kindergarten is dedicated to the life and times of the Kims. To indoctrinate the kids.

Three hour drive to Wonsan. Every bit of land is given over to agriculture. Roads continue to be very rough but tree lined which reminds me of France. There are also white painted concrete posts in the verge every few metres. Sometimes it’s white painted stones lining the roadside that go on for miles. Just think about the labour involved in doing that. It is phenomenal. And then think why? Not exactly busy roads. Everywhere appears clean and tidy though. Even the railway tracks are lined with white painted stones. Every sapling or small tree has a circle of white painted stones surrounding it.

Wonsan, by the sea, has a nice relaxed feel to it. A seasidey atmosphere even. Bit like Bournemouth. And as we’re at the seaside. Has to be fish and chips for lunch. Another excellent meal.

Further 3hr drive to Mount Kumgang stopping enroute at Sijung Beach Resthouse. Like something that fell out of the 1950s. Another spotless expanse of golden sands. Told that beaches on the east coast are sandy whilst those on the west coast are pebbly. Appears to be a military exercise happening on one of the beaches we pass and there’s plenty of barbed wire preventing a sea-borne invasion further up the coast.

Continue following the coastal road but as we approach the border start climbing up into the mountains which entails a 920m long tunnel which has armed sentries in concrete shelters protecting it at each portal.

Seeing a lot more military now as we near the border with South Korea. On entering Changjon, the coastal town near Mount Kumgang, there’s a military checkpoint where our guide has to produce some documentation before we can pass. Instructed to put cameras away. A second checkpoint on exiting the town. Approaching Mount Kumgang, guide has to obtain a vehicle pass. There’s a lot of military activity here. Mount Kumgang had been off limits to tourists for years after it was leased by the South Korean Hyundai company and was administered as a special tourist region exclusively for people travelling overland from South Korea. This was then stopped in 2010 and tourists from the DPRK could use it.

Actually meant to be staying in a South Korean developed resort Hotel Oekumgang which is meant to be upmarket. However. For reasons never fully explained, we’re not. Now staying in the not so 5 star Hotel Kumgangsan (https://asiasenses.com/accommodation/kumgangsan-hotel).

A grand piano sits in the lobby. Having restarted piano lessons after 35 years start playing very badly. My beautiful young female guide sees me and practically plonks herself on my lap to join me in playing piano. She instantly starts playing like a pro. She’s amazing.

It’s one of those spontaneous moments in life you’ll never forget.

NK 11. Bucking Bronco

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Tuesday, 18 April 2017

Hamhung, North Korea

 

Knock. Knock.

Who’s there?

“It’s me.”

It’s late at night though not fast asleep. Thankfully, for the girl next door knocking on my door. Again.

You’ll remember, dear reader, that we have the same adjoining rooms off a little lobby. The scene of a rumpus in the early hours on the first night.

Another nocturnal ‘chat’ required.

In our jim-jams. Again.

Al Jazeera reporting that the DPRK’s Foreign Minister is telling the USA not to bomb the DPRK as the DPRK will retaliate with its own nuclear missiles.

Girl next door is worried. Assure her that nothing will happen. The US Vice President is currently in Seoul. A stone’s throw away. Literally. If they nuke Pyongyang, they’ll nuke the VP too. USA’s allies have demanded no unilateral missile strikes on the DPRK.

It’s all kicking off.

Re-assured by my dulcet tones and rational thinking girl next door sidles off back to bed.

No further knocks in the night and wake to low and thick black clouds. A thunderstorm.

Absolutely chucking it down.

Having bought a number of postcards a few days ago they are posted in the hotel’s letterbox. Only very complimentary things are written on the back about the DPRK. Do want them delivered after all. Old friend (as in longevity…ahem) will be receiving two. I’m at the top of the leaderboard for postcards received from her friends and family. Yay.

Long drive to Hamhung on the eastern coast of the DPRK. Can’t see anything through the bus windows as they’re constantly steamed up. Sitting on the middle seat of the back row of the bus so I can stretch my long legs out down the aisle. Not the best place to sit. The road is bumpy. Very bumpy. The rear wheels hit the bump, shunt the back of the bus high up and then crash down. Along with my bottom. So bad, my body is thrown clear of the seat. And I come crashing down. Jarring my spine. With a few expletives.

Time.

And.

Again.

It. Is. Like. Riding. A. Bucking. Bronco.

Actually quite painful.

Hardly any traffic on the roads. The odd bus and car now and again. Cars, we are told, will belong to the elite.

Soon enter the mountainous area and parts of it remind me of the Highlands. Very brown landscape because of all the farming but still low cloud and heavy rain making it difficult to see much.

Driving through a tunnel, guarded at the portals by armed soldiers (as all tunnels are for some reason), the bus literally crashes onto the ground as we go over a very large bump hidden in the darkness of the unlit tunnel. Smashing the suspension. So bad I’m thrown into the air about a foot off my seat. So bad that the driver has to stop the bus after the tunnel to check the bus over.

Two hours of being jolted about on the backseat bucking bronco glad for a pitstop at the Sinphyong Tea House set on the shore of a small reservoir used for hydro power. Notable for the fact that it sells German chocolate and out of date Vietnamese look-a-like Werthers Originals.

The reservoir has been partially drained for hydro power generation which means that the lake bed is exposed. Hundreds of locals are fetching mud from the lake bed like a line of little ants scurrying to and fro. They apparently use it as natural fertiliser. All manual labour each with a bucket collecting mud. Hundreds of them.

Another two hours of being tossed about on the back before reaching the Ullim Waterfalls. Quite impressive falls. Still chucking it down with rain all get drenched walking the ten minutes to the falls up the valley.

Lunch was meant to be a picnic under sunny and blue skies by the waterfall.

Lunch is a picnic on an open to the elements terrace in a half derelict concrete building sheltering from the cold and incessant rain by the waterfall.

Cold tray of cold fish. Cold chicken. Salad (cold). Cold dumplings. Cold rice.

Oh and it’s cold.

In preparation for a dodgy lunch I’ve had the foresight at breakfast to make up a jam sandwich for Ron. Later on. That is. And an imported Snickers from Munich airport.

Chat with my fellow traveller (who is reading this) who looks very surprised when told I’m 47. “You’re quite playful!”, he says. Think that’s a compliment. Act your shoe size not your age, dear reader. Life is too short. Enjoy it whilst you can.

Rain, rain, goes away as we approach Hamhung and the blue sky puts in an appearance at last. Quite Alpine scenery as we drive through the mountains. Stop at a mountain pass so driver can have a fag break. There’s a restaurant and kiosk and the locals start waving to us and chatting as we have our leg stretch. Little kiosk sells snacks and even fresh fruit such as apples and tangerines. One of our group wants to buy some tangerines but doesn’t have money on her so goes back to bus to get the cash. As she does so, the bus driver gets his cash out and pays for about twenty tangerines. He refuses any money from us when we try and pay him back. Can you imagine a western tour bus driver doing that? And that’s the thing we find in the DPRK. How nice and friendly people continually are.

Arriving Hamhung late afternoon there’s a cheer from the women in the group at a toilet stop in an upmarket hotel. It has western style toilets. And clean. Rather than squat toilets experienced elsewhere enroute. Glad I’m a bloke.

Time to pay our respects Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il. Again. Standing atop Donhung Hill, the two very tall statues look out over Hamhung. It’s the done thing to present a bouquet of flowers to the statues and it’s my turn to cough up five euros for one of many bunches of flowers the group seems to be buying. As in Pyongyang, we line up in two rows and bow deep and long from the waist to pay our respects. I and a fellow traveller then proceed to place our bunches of flowers at the foot of the podium. Paying our respects.

As in Pyongyang, instructed to only take photographs of the whole statue not just a head shot or from behind. It’s the rules. Which I abide by as don’t want any problems exiting the country.

The hill upon which the statues reside was built by the residents of Hamhung as the statues were originally at street level and couldn’t be seen.

So.

Get this.

The residents moved 300,000 tons of earth from the nearby river to create this manmade hill plus 3,000 rocks to create the garden.

Quite impressive. Just shows how much the residents adore the Kims.

Glad they did as the hill affords cracking views across the roof tops of Hamhung’s apartment blocks which are brightly coloured in greens, purples and yellows.

Final stop at the former Royal Palace where emperor Ri Song Gye lived in the late 14th century. The main building apparently dated back to 1398 but was destroyed by Japanese feudal lord Hideyoshi’s forces at the turn of the 17th century and rebuilt in 1610. Our female guide is translating the local male guide and she can’t stop giggling when she has to translate and tell us that the 70 year old king liked girls and when they climbed the stairs he followed behind looking up their bottoms and then chose who to play with. She’s in fits of giggles explaining this to us and slightly embarrassed.

A 450 year old pine tree grows in the garden of the small palace complex. Pine in the DPRK is meant to bring long life. I take a needle from its branches. You’ll still be reading blogs from me in 200 years time, dear reader.

Overnight at the Ma Jon Hotel (https://asiasenses.com/accommodation/majon-beach-guesthouse). One of the DPRK’s finest hotels. On the beach. All the toiletries have obviously fallen off the back of a Sheraton Hotel as they’re all branded Sheraton. Large modern rooms and plush bathrooms. Could almost be a Sheraton.

Dinner is in the slightly garish banqueting room. With inflatable blue dolphins. There’s just our small group and one other dining in the large room. As you will see on the photos below.