RTW 34. Life is good…WHA WHO

Leave a Reply

Saturday, 5 June 2010

Vancouver, Canada

Miss Vancouver is a morning person.

I. On the other hand. Am not.

You all know the drill by now. Do. Not. Disturb. The. Grumpy. Ogre. Who. Is. Asleep.

Woken from a deep sleep at 0530hrs by that well known phrase, “Get your sorry ass off that pillow and come and look at the sunrise.”

Call an ambulance.

There’s been a murder.

Eventually emerge from my jet lagged hibernation. At a reasonable time. Not the middle of the night. For that all important brew. Sitting on the deck for the final time. Admiring the view of sea and snow capped mountains. Eagles soaring overhead. Tide is out revealing rock formations forming the local oyster beds. Further up the beach is evidence of First Nation fishing pools dating back hundreds of years.

After an amazing and blissful few days, we’re to catch the ferry to Denman Island at 1000hrs. Leave the cabins at 0945hrs. It’s a 2 mile drive to the ferry landing. All of four minutes. Were it not for the fact that we have to drop a sack of accumulated recyclable waste off at the Free-Cycle Centre in the other direction. You bring your waste here and it’s either recycled, such as plastics and tin cans or it can be left to be picked up for free by someone else, such as clothing, books, equipment and other detritus.

Arrive at ferry terminal literally as ferry is departing. Having missed the ferry, an hour to kill. Which means a brew and sticky bun at the coffee shop. Naughty but nice. Which means a later ferry than anticipated from Denman Island back to Buckley Bay on Vancouver Island. Which means racing down Vancouver Island to Departure Bay at Nanaimo to catch the 1245hrs ferry back to Horseshoe Bay on the mainland. Miss Vancouver’s elder sister was a successful motor racing driver. Miss Vancouver has been taking tips.

Bloody hell.

I know I can drive fast. But this. Not a nervous passenger at all. Nope. Not at all. They’re not my white knuckles.

No time for a lunch stop now so end up making lunch on a small chopping board on my lap. Feeding Miss Vancouver as we drive at high speed. Overtaking everything in our way. We’re on a mission. Wacky Races like.

The pace only slackens when we realise that, despite best efforts, the 1245hrs sailing is going to be missed. Plans changed to a more relaxing 1500hrs sailing from the other ferry terminal at Nanaimo, Duke Point. Which actually works in our favour. A 2hr sailing that takes us in to Tsawassen on the southern side of Vancouver closer to where we want to be. Rather than Horseshoe Bay on the northern side.

Incredibly sad to have left Hornby Island.

It really has been the most perfect few days. Thank you Miss Vancouver!

Approaching the mainland the sky is blue and the snow capped mountains overlooking Vancouver are clearly visible. No wonder Vancouver consistently tops the charts of best cities to live.

Driving off the ferry see an SUV which just sums it all up.

The spare wheel cover on the rear door has ‘Life is good’ imprinted on it.

Registration plate is simply ‘WHA WHO’.

Yes.

Life is good!!

WHA WHO!!!

Return to Richmond. I first came here in 1995 to visit Miss Vancouver. Warned there has been an influx of Chinese to this suburb. Bloody hell. Not kidding. Since Hong Kong was handed over in 1997, Chinese immigration to Vancouver has increased. The southern suburb of Richmond in particular. Truly is like Chinatown now. Massive pagoda structure is a place of worship. Shop signage with only Chinese writing. [Return to visit on my Antarctica to Alaska trip in May 2019 and the Chinese takeover of Richmond has increased exponentially. Quite startling to see the transformation in nine years.]

Dinner with Mr & Mrs Vancouver. Family friends and formerly residents of the village I live in, Mr Vancouver travelled here on business in the mid 1970s. Loved it so much the whole family emigrated. And been here ever since.

Mrs Vancouver asks if I’m still jetlagged. No. I’m Miss Vancouver lagged. Fun and full on few days.

Drive the coast road around the headland of the University of British Columbia. West of the city. To Jericho Beach. To see the superb spectacle across the sea and snow capped mountains of the sun setting. A real buzz. Plenty of people partying on the beach. Sitting around small fires. Chatting. Joking. Drinking.

At the planetarium, having seen sunset, stop to see Saturn circling the sun majestically in the night sky through a large telescope. Rings clearly visible.

Life is good!

WHA WHO!!

RTW 33. Driftwood fire on the beach

Leave a Reply

Friday, 4 June 2010

Hornby Island, British Columbia, Canada

Fulfil one of life’s ambitions this morning.

Making a driftwood fire on the beach and cooking breakfast on it.

Oh yes.

This. Is. The. Life.

The beach a few steps away from the cabins.

Collect kindle and larger bits of dry driftwood from the shoreline.

Am in my element.

Bright blue sky. Eagles soaring above me. Not a breath of wind. Tranquil is the word.

A view to die for.

Snow capped mountains. Blue sea melting into the horizon. The beach.

Miss Vancouver does all the usual prepping. All I have to do is put the skillet with bacon and eggs on the fire. Easy life this.

Could get used to this.

Sit on a driftwood log enjoying a brew and breakfast. The wood smoke smell. The bacon smell. This is heaven, dear reader.

There is nowhere better in the world right now.

This is absolute bliss.

And for the first time on the trip, a leisurely day.

Pottering.

Wine tasting at the local vineyard, Carbrea. You may be surprised to read that there are vineyards in this neck of the woods. Well, it ain’t half bad. Buy a wacky little wine I’d not heard of before. Agria. Red wine. It will be consumed at some point over the next few weeks.

Jazz night at the local pub, The Thatch. So called ‘cos of its thatched roof.

Cracking night meeting the locals and listening to some easy jazz. It’s 2155hrs. The pianist packs up and scurries off. Has someone upset her?

No.

She’s gone to catch the 2200hrs final ferry to Denman Island. The ferry landing being right next to the pub. The other three musicians obviously live on Hornby as they continue playing.

Twilight nightcaps back at the cabins on the deck it’s still so warm at this late hour.

Another driftwood fire. Soon crackling away. Flames illuminating the garden.

Stars come out to play again. Much clearer than last night.

Stars shine bright like a diamond as we sit on the beach, whisky in hand, looking up to the heavens.

No.

This is heaven.

Here.

At this moment.

I’m so lucky.

RTW 32. Hornby Island

Leave a Reply

Thursday, 3 June 2010

Hornby Island, British Columbia, Canada

Regular readers of the blog, and those that know me, will know that I don’t do mornings. So you can imagine the grumpy ogre that has to wake up at 0415hrs to catch the ferry to Hornby Island.

There is only one 4.15 in my day, dear reader. And yes, you guessed it. This. Isn’t. It.

Have only had about 6hrs sleep in the past 48hrs. As I said. Grumpy. Little. Ogre.

Fresh overcast morning as we zoom through the eerily quiet streets of downtown Vancouver. Sun rises over the city as we drive through Stanley Park and over the Lions Gate Bridge. Mountains are shrouded in mist on the mainland but as we arrive at Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal can see the snow capped mountains on Vancouver Island. Our first destination. Spot of island hopping today. Three islands. Arriving at Nanaimo on Vancouver Island it’s about an hour’s drive north up the coast road to Fanny Bay. And another ferry to Denman Island. There’s a lot of racing today. Our early start and ferry times have been coordinated so as to get three ferries in quick succession.

Arrive at Fanny Bay with minutes to spare before the ferry departs. I have to nip into the Fanny Bay Oyster Shop to buy some prawns and candied smoked salmon with maple syrup (actually quite nice) for the weekend.

Woman behind the counter starts asking awkward questions like, “How much do you want?”.

Erm.

Shrug my shoulders not knowing to which she replies with, “Ah ha, someone’s obviously been given a shopping list!”

Yep.

Whilst I’m faffing with this, Miss Vancouver is sorting ferry tickets at the ferry terminal a short distance away. Shop assistant realises I’m on the ferry that is literally about to leave so suddenly goes into overdrive and packs up my order pronto.

Miss Vancouver has now driven on to the ferry which is clearly now waiting for me to jump on. Have to run, dear reader. Don’t do running. It’s bad for you. Pass the ferry ticket office and the woman shouts, “She’s paid for you!”. Jolly good.

Jump on the ferry and gates are closed behind me. It’s that tight. I’m delaying them.

Only a ten minute crossing to Denman Island. Quick drive across Denman Island. Which takes all of ten minutes. To the next ferry. To Hornby Island.

After all that racing about, discover that the next ferry to Hornby is a ‘Dangerous Cargo’ crossing and so no other vehicles apart from the propane gas lorries. Sod it. Now have to wait over an hour. After all that rushing. On Denman Island. Those of you that know Denman Island will know that there’s not much to do. Apart from drive around it.

Ferry finally floats off to Hornby.

And to Miss Vancouver’s humble abode. A set of cabins. A few yards back from the beach. Amazing views out to sea. Oh wow.

Life on Hornby has that slow, relaxed feel that everyone is in a permanent state of being on holiday. Or retired. Apparently, during the Vietnam War lots of Americans came here to escape the draft. And have stayed ever since. Slight hippyish feel to the place. Just don’t mention the drugs.

The petrol station is called a ‘gas bar’. Old bloke with long grey ponytail is filling up his 1987 Camino. It’s that sort of place.

Driving along see a young girl hitchhiking. Stop to give her a lift. It’s that sort of place.

Local store sells all sorts. Marmite. HP Sauce. Patak’s Curry Sauce. Elderflower cordial. It’s that sort of place.

Pass roadside signs advertising various arts and crafts for sale in people’s homes. Glassware. Jewellery. Paintings. It’s that sort of place.

In need of a walk, drive to the other side of the island to Helliwell National Park. Turning right at The Big Tree Junction. So called as it has a big tall tree stuck in the middle of the road. It’s that sort of place.

Meant to be a quarter mile walk to the headland on a 3 mile circular route through dense woodland and open headland.

Path promptly peters out. Seems like we have missed the main trail. It’s OK though. Miss Vancouver knows the way. Knows a shortcut back to the shoreline.

Ahem.

Now in dense woodland come across a house set amongst the woods. Everything is made of driftwood. Outdoor shower. Driftwood. Outdoor toilet. Driftwood. Actually quite a palatial toilet. Proper toilet seat. Paper. Lime. Sawdust. Outdoor dining table. Driftwood. It’s that sort of place.

Assured that the trail is just through what is now dense jungle type woodland, follow Miss Vancouver. Deeper and deeper into the forest. After five minutes it’s clear that we’re not going to pick up the trail like this so retrace our steps. It’s at this point that we realise how easy it is to get lost in such conditions. One tree looks exactly like the other.

And then it rains.

Not spitting rain.

Full on hard rain.

Good job we were both in the Scouts, Guides and D of E. Miss Vancouver being awarded Gold D of E by HRH D of E no less. We are prepared, dear reader.

Bald eagles. Tick. Woodpecker. Tick.

Finally find the footpath.

After all that exertion it’s back to the cabins.

Champagne and canapes on the deck terrace. Overlooking Denman Island, the Strait of Georgia and the snow capped mountains of Vancouver Island.

One word.

Awesome.

Fillet steaks fry on the heaviest skillet known to man on the open fire. Made from driftwood. Miss Vancouver does everything else. Miss Vancouver is one of the few women I know who knows how to properly cook and entertain. Am being treated like a King. It’s all rather marvellous. Bottle of Mexican wine is superb.

Simply idyllic sitting with this view. Eagles soaring overhead. Herons fishing off the rocks in front of us. Listening to the tide lapping on the shore. Fire crackling ahead of us as we, quite frankly, watch one of the most simply stunning sunsets sinking over the scenery. Have never witnessed a sunset like it.

Post prandial stroll along the beach. Pure silence. Apart from nature. Twilight now. Sensational views.

God. This is awesome.

Miss Vancouver continues to excel in the wining and dining department when I’m offered a 35 year old single malt.

Stars come out to play and twinkle light years away.

Feels like we’re light years away from civilisation.

Both agree that we are incredibly lucky in life.

This is just awesome.

RTW 31. Thought you were going to kiss me!

Leave a Reply

Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Vancouver, Canada

Another day. Another time zone. Another country. Another continent.

Could’ve taken the bus to the airport but instead opt for a taxi. Mad Mary flies through the traffic and halves the time it would take the bus. Your life in their hands.

Well, dear reader. It’s about 10hrs of flying from Seoul to my next destination.

Vancouver.

And the start of the next leg of my Around the World Trip. Crossing Canada. By rail.

Settle in to my seat with a glass of champagne. Obviously. Might as well keep things in the manner to which I am very much accustomed. Business Class is set in a herringbone fashion which I don’t like. Not much foot space and struggle to stretch out. First world problems I know.

Last time I flew over the Pacific was in 1995 from Vancouver to Hong Kong. 13hrs of extreme turbulence with the aircraft literally dropping out of the sky at one point. Scary stuff, dear reader. Thankfully, it’s reasonably calm this trip.

Disembarking the aircraft upon arrival in Vancouver, the stewardess puts her arms up to me and pulls me to her. I very nearly embarrass myself, dear reader. Due to the odd alcoholic drink enroute and jetlag, for some inexplicable reason I think she’s going to kiss me goodbye so start stretching my arms out to reciprocate. In that split second when I’m thinking this she says, “I didn’t want you to bang your head.”

Ah. I see.

Retort with, “I though you were going to kiss me goodbye!”

Everyone laughs. Including her.

Fortunately.

Have a sentimental attachment to Vancouver.

It’s where it all began.

In May 1995.

A Friday morning.

The young trainee Quantity Surveyor, Touring Taurean, is sitting in a site hut in Loughborough. His boss’s phone rings. Boss is on holiday so he picks it up. His boss’s boss is reading this laughing.

It’s Dave from the head office in Nottingham. He’s just got back from a business trip to Hong Kong working on a brewery project in China.

The young Touring Taurean, making polite conversation, asks how Hong Kong was. It was brilliant, says Dave.

Touring Taurean unwittingly replies, “Ah I’d love to go there.”

Dave replies, “Would you?”

Oh yes, say I. I’d go tomorrow.

“Can you go Monday?”, says Dave.

WHAT?!?!?

“Can you go Monday? Well actually, you’ve got to fly to Vancouver first, to spend a couple of weeks with the mechanical engineers and then fly from Vancouver to Hong Kong to assist with the materials procurement. It’ll be Business Class flights and five star hotels. Is that alright?”

WHAT?!?!?!

I’m 25 years old.

What an opportunity.

And so began my international career.

In Vancouver.

Hence a sentimental attachment to Vancouver.

Never looked back. And had a very nice life out of it. Thank you very much.

Grilled by Immigration for some nonsense and then out on to Canadian soil.

To meet Miss Vancouver.

For a weekend of fun and frolics.

RTW 30. Suicide

Leave a Reply

Tuesday, 1 June 2010

Seoul, South Korea

Breakfast on the 19th floor of the Ibis hotel with window seat enjoying my brew looking out over the other tall buildings adjacent the hotel. Spot a young man in a suit and tie walk out of a door on to the roof of the building opposite me. Assume it’s a maintenance manager or someone having a crafty fag. He walks along the flat roof past the mechanical equipment. A wide parapet wall a few feet high and wide runs around the perimeter. Young man climbs on to parapet. There are no safety barriers. Just a vertical drop of about 18 floors.

It’s at this point I stop enjoying my brew. He’s not there for maintenance or for a crafty fag.

No.

It looks like he’s about to jump.

Crap.

Can’t do a thing about it.

He walks along the parapet to the corner of the building and stands right at the edge.

Teetering on the brink.

Contemplating jumping.

Head down.

In thought.

Hands in pockets.

Has the look of being fed up.

Will he.

Won’t he.

Keep watching.

He just stands there for a few minutes.

I’m holding my breath. Wondering what is about to unfold before me.

A few more minutes pass.

He’s staring down at the traffic below. People looking like small ants on the pavement 18 floors below.

A few more minutes pass.

And then.

He.

Steps.

Backwards.

He’s not going to commit suicide. Not right now.

And I can start breathing again.

He’s now about 3 feet from the edge.

Still pondering.

And then.

He turns.

And slopes off back the way he came and off the roof.

And I continue with my brew.

On approach to the DMZ, about an hour away from Seoul, see what looks like concrete bridges over the motorway but which are actually a mass concrete slab that slams shut to act as a blockade against tanks should the North Korean army invade.

The DMZ (De-Militarised Zone) is the 250km long, 4km wide, border between North Korea (DPRK) and South Korea. Running from the Yellow Sea in the west to the Sea of Japan in the east. Established following the Korean War armistice in 1953, after three years of war between the communist north and the democratic south. Within this DMZ is a meeting point where the two nations negotiated the armistice. This meeting point is called the Joint Security Area.

The Joint Security Area is at Panmunjon. You can visit the JSA as a tourist from both the DPRK side and the South Korean side. Within the JSA is an assortment of buildings including a row of blue huts called the ‘Conference Rooms’ in which the actual border runs straight through the middle. My visit to the JSA when touring North Korea in 2017 can be found on this blog post: https://touringtaurean.com/2020/04/02/nk-7-help-screamed-the-girl/

Due to current tensions with the North, no visits are allowed inside the JSA from the South. Only to the Southern Civilian Limit which is 5km from the DMZ line which in itself is 2km from UN agreed border in the JSA.

Plenty of barbed wire as we have to change buses and go through security checks. A nonchalant and cursory look at a passport by some disenfranchised soldier.

Once inside the Southern Civilian Limit we go to the brand new Dorasan Railway Station which hopes to form part of the great Eurasian rail network and provide a rail link between the North and the South. A huge map on the station wall shows that it may be one day possible to travel by train from Scotland to Seoul. Standing there looking at it makes me realise just how far I have come on this my 30th day of travel.

The Southern Civilian Limit is as far as we can go and the Dorasan Observatory provides the only point that we can observe North Korea 7km away. For some inexplicable reason, there are very strict photography rules to try and prevent you taking photos of North Korea. Only able to take photographs from behind a yellow line 5m from the parapet wall which means that ordinary people can’t take a photo over the wall of North Korea.

However.

I am not ordinary.

With my arms stretched upwards I’m approaching nearly 3m. And at that angle I can grab a photo overlooking the parapet and towards North Korea. Under strict instructions not to take photos over the yellow line otherwise the guards will take the camera off you and delete the photos. I can see there’s absolutely no reason for this. It’s just a stupid rule.

And as we all know, dear reader.

Rules are for fools.

Always up for a challenge, endeavour to take a photo across the yellow line at the parapet wall. Try and do it surreptitiously under cover of my large hands hiding my small compact camera.

However.

I am spotted. And instructed by the guard to hand camera over. But he’s called away for something more important. Hurriedly switch camera off and put in pocket. As he’s walked away think I’ve got away with it so amble off.

But.

Am collared by another sodding guard and have to hand over camera.

Far too quickly he masters the settings and immediately deletes the photo from the memory card.

North and South are currently preparing for war according the media. Minor issue of the North torpedoing a South Korean warship recently. Doesn’t feel like it here though.

Having enjoyed the view above ground head off underground.

All Womble like.

To the Third Infiltration Tunnel. One of four discovered in the 1970s, North Korea tunnelled under the DMZ for a mile to try and invade South Korea. The tunnel was designed to take 30,000 men in an hour. Obviously not 6’5” men. More 5’6” men. Passing through a minefield to enter the tunnel, have to wear hard hats and soon realise why. Bumping along as I do.

It’s a steep incline 300m down to the end of the North Korean tunnel. Once in the horizontal tunnel it’s another 270m along a low tunnel carved in the rock to the Third Blockade. The actual border is a few more metres along at the First Blockade. A concrete wall now blocks the tunnel. Between the First Blockade and the Second Blockade is a tank of water set to explode and drown potential infiltrators. Blockade 3 which is the limit of our foray into the tunnel has a door with a CCTV camera trained on it to also check for North Korean infiltrators.

Fascinating insight into the North and South politics and at the time of my visit in 2010, little did I know that in 2017 I would be standing in the North looking out to the South.

Returning to Seoul have a brief stop at the Imperial Palaces at Changgyeong. Typical Korean style buildings most of which are empty of furniture apart from the Throne Room which has ornate chandeliers. The Secret Garden is not so secret as it is well signposted. A large glasshouse looks like a Victorian structure that wouldn’t be out of place in Kew Gardens.

My whistle stop tour is in need of something to wet my whistle. Where better than Seoul Tower. The Namsam cable car whisks you up to the tower. A high speed lift whisks you to the observation deck 200m up. Lift doors open out onto an awesome panoramic view.

WOW.

Complete 360 degree view of Seoul and the surrounding mountains.

A cold beer.

Whilst watching the sun slowly simmer and set over Seoul.

RTW 29. Soul to Seoul

Leave a Reply

Monday, 31 May 2010

Seoul, South Korea

Farewell to Al. Thank you. It’s been a cracking weekend in Tokyo. And a flying visit to Japan. Whetted my appetite for future forays to the land of the rising sun.

Constant conurbation for the 90 minute rail journey to Narita airport for the flight to Seoul.

At security, the free corkscrew that came with a bottle of wine in Warsaw is confiscated as it has a ‘knife’ about an inch long. The foil cutter. I make out that it’s not a ‘knife’ as it’s blunt. And run my thumb over it to prove to Japanese security that it is blunt.

And promptly cut myself.

Muppet.

Not the smartest thing to do to prove it’s blunt. It is indeed confiscated. And in need of a plaster.

As the aircraft pushes back, two airport managers wearing suit and tie and a female manager wearing a smart dress stand to attention and then bow to the aircraft.

Enjoy the best airline food I’ve ever had. Korean Air done good. Sitting in Business Class, the champagne flows and the meal is a steaming hot plate full of bulgogi (fried meat), rice, kimchi, lettuce leaves, bean curd and herbs. Actually provided instructions on how to eat it. Basically, put a load of rice, meat, kimchi and bean curd paste in a lettuce leaf, roll leaf up and eat.

It. Is. Delicious.

Tell the air stewardess that it’s the best inflight meal I’ve had. She brings a second serving over. Which has to be declined.

Repeat the process of bus from airport to the front steps of the Hotel Ibis Myeongdong (http://ibis-styles-ambassador-myeongdong.seoul-hotels-kr.com/en/).

Quiet night required.

You know.

To recover from the excesses of a memorable weekend.

RTW 28. Feeling the pain

1 Reply

Sunday, 30 May 2010

Yokohama, Japan

Unsurprisingly, given the amount of whisky and sake last night, it’s a struggle this morning, dear reader.

Feeling the pain, dear reader.

Should know better.

But. You know.

Approaching the station, there’s obviously a boy band about to make an appearance as a large group of teenage girls have congregated around a stage. To maintain an access way through the plaza where the concert is being held, security staff have placed bright pink tape on the concrete floor to de-lineate a walkway through. It’s amazing. Everyone is adhering to it and not stepping over the line. Can you imagine that happening in the UK. No. Me neither.

Only a twenty minute rail journey into central Tokyo and the Imperial Palace. The whole area reminds me of Central Park in Manhattan. Inside the complex the Imperial Palace is disappointing as there’s no real Imperial buildings just parkland.

Whilst Al attempts to fill his water bottle at a public drinking fountain some berk (me) turns up the tap to full. Which turns the gentle dribble into a 5ft high squirt. Which wets Al and his camera. Al is not amused. I on the other hand am doubled up in laughter.

Plenty of street entertainers about performing their acts which adds to the relaxed Sunday afternoon atmosphere. A religious group having a day out are trying to do continuous skipping whilst a school group has a long line of kids running into a model boat and running out the other side which looks like the boat has more capacity than it actually has. A girl walking by is obviously on her hen party as she’s wearing a dress made of rags and trailing old shirts fastened together to make a train with her bridesmaids helping her along.

Spotting some lights at the top of a skyscraper figure out it must be a bar so go and investigate. Accessed by a glass elevator up to the 29th floor it’s half full. We’re clearly not their ‘type’ and told it’s ‘fully booked’. Directed to a Chinese restaurant elsewhere in the skyscraper which has a bar. It specialises in fish head. A Chinese delicacy. We’re still too delicate for that delicacy.

No. What we want is another okonomiyaki. To soak up last night’s alcohol.

Unlike Friday’s okonomiyaki, we have to mix the thing and cook it ourselves. Work has to be done. The Japanese have thought of everything. Beneath each banquette seat is a pull out drawer to put your shopping and coats in to keep them out of the way.

First okonomiyaki is 3 types of pork. Like Floyd on Food we prepare the dish. Great fun and very sociable eating.

Having overindulged last night it’s an early night dear reader.

Early start tomorrow.

Back to South Korea.

RTW 27. They said it couldn’t be done

Leave a Reply

Saturday, 29 May 2010

Yokohama, Japan

Best breakfast since leaving home. Twinings English Breakfast Tea. And. Wait for it. Marmite on hot buttered toast. Oh yes. Al and I discovered our mutual love of Marmite whilst working in Jordan. A 500g tub of the stuff was imported on a trip back from the UK once. The Jordanian waiters in the hotel we were staying at (a zero star fleapit up near the Syrian border and the Golan Heights) couldn’t quite work out why the two Brits were lathering their toast in this black sticky smelly stuff.

Tea continues to be the theme for the day as we arrive at Sankeien Gardens. A collection of wooden buildings from the 18th and 19th centuries set around a lake with ornamental gardens. An observation point in the gardens was the site of another house but this was demolished in the 1923 earthquake. In its day, the view would have been superb looking out over the bay and coastline. Today’s view, however, is blighted by a massive oil and gas terminal and storage tanks. Azalea bonsai trees are on display as we head down to a wooden hall where a tea ceremony awaits.

A lot of faff for a brew I have to say. All very calm and serene, two young ladies wearing traditional costume go through the rigmarole of blessing the teapot, boiling the water, pouring the water, adding some green tea, stirring, bowing, and presenting a cup of green drudge served with very sweet almond tasting cubes of cake. Not exactly petite both of us, we’re perched on a small bench. It bows in the middle because of the weight.

Like a scene from Last of the Summer Wine as the two middle aged Englishmen huff and puff up a steep road to the Bluff. This is where the Europeans settled at the turn of the last century with matching architecture of European style houses. Which are open to visitors as museums. The only problem being that you have to walk about in your socks to protect the wooden floors. Very Art Deco in style and yet another cup of tea. Little old lady waitress keeps bowing every time she gives us the cups and teapots etc. Like being served by a nodding donkey.

Walking along the ridge to the cemetery, pass a young man in a suit and tie sitting on a stool on the pavement holding a wooden advertising placard pointing to something down a side road. Briefcase at his side. Wonder what he tells his mates he does for a living. Quite a bizarre scene.

In the area is the Foreign Cemetery. Japan now has a law that you must be cremated. But not way back when. Quite interesting and reminds me of the cemetery I visited in Moscow. Large ornate headstones. The winner of the ‘Best Headstone Award’ goes to Frank Joseph Burke. Assume to be a thief and safecracker. Headstone shows an image of a safe inscribed with the words, ‘They said it couldn’t be done. But I took it with me anyway.” My favourite though is Spike Milligan’s, ‘I told you I was ill’ (obviously not in this cemetery).

As I’ve found elsewhere in South Korea and Japan, there’s a nice civilised and relaxed feel to the place as we wander the back streets. And then we hit Chinatown. An explosion of chatter and colour. It’s another world compared to the European area we’ve just walked from. Real buzz with bright lights and colourful displays. Plenty of food stalls and try the local delicacy. A steamed dumpling about the size of a tennis ball filled with meat. Very tasty.

The new cruise ship terminal is an impressive structure. Quite low lying with a grassed roof and weathered timber. Once inside it’s like walking under a ship in dry dock as the ceilings are shaped like a hull.

Along the shoreline are the Red Brick Warehouses. Built by the British in the early 1900s, the steelwork is manufactured by Dornan in Newcastle upon Tyne, they included Japan’s first luggage elevator and sprinkler system. Originally used for the developing Yokohama port they’re now converted to lots of shops, restaurants and craft type studios.

After all that walking am assured there’s a cold beer waiting at the top of the Landmark Tower. Japan’s tallest building. Notable for its circular escalator. Not been on a circular escalator before. It bends around in a curve. One has to have a play. Pretty funky bit of kit. Having played on the circular escalator a tad longer than a man of my age should, taken to the top of the tower in a 45km/hr lift. One of the world’s fastest. Amazing views of Yokohama and Tokyo beyond from 250m up as we glug away at a couple of cold beers resting our weary legs. As I remark to Al, ‘This is one of your better ideas!’

Dinner ensues. And more beer. And nightcaps back at the apartment.

Whisky and sake.

More whisky.

More sake.

Until the early hours.

Laughing the hours away.

RTW 26. Okonomiyaki

Leave a Reply

Friday, 28 May 2010

Yokohama, Japan

Taxi driver to the station is wearing white gloves and a peaked cap. Taxi is spotless. Not exactly what I’m used to when I get a taxi from Nottingham home late at night.

Yet another sleek and slender Shinkansen Nozomi bullet train to Tokyo. Like a white snake speeding gracefully through landscape whizzing by at 300km/hr. Plenty of long tunnels through the mountainous region. Paddy fields and factories sit side by side. Approaching Tokyo can see the snow capped volcanic cone that is Mount Fuji.

Arrive in Tokyo bang on time after about 900km and four hours of rail travel. Now to find my way to a commuter line and the train to Musashi-Kosugi in Kawasaki between Tokyo and Yokohama. It being a Friday night, make my way through the hordes of office workers going home for the weekend. All the men are wearing dark suits, white shirts and plain tie. Every woman I pass is exceptionally good looking and young. Kings Cross on a Friday night it is not.

Am to wait in Musashi-Kosugi for me old mate. We’ll call him Al. Quietly minding my own business when there’s a loud clap in my ear. Which scares the life out of me. Turn around to find Al doubled up in laughter. It sets the tone for a cracking weekend. We used to work in Jordan together (the country not the model) eight years ago and then again in Qatar last year. We’ve not seen each other since a very boozy night in Doha over a year ago. Beer will feature heavily in this weekend’s activities. And laughter.

Al’s flat is small, about 35m2, which is typically Japanese as space is at a premium here in the city. Al’s toilet is also typically Japanese. Except. This one is a deluxe model. Plays classical music whilst you do your thing. Handel’s Water Music. Probably.

Time to try the local food. Okonomiyaki. Oh wow. New discovery. Think omelette with cabbage and sauces and other things and you’re in the right ball park. The table has a metal cooking plate in the middle. Waitress brings beer (obviously) and a bowl of raw ingredients and mixes them up with one egg to bind it all. She then turns it out onto the hot plate to cook and forms a circular ‘omelette’ for us. She returns every so often to turn it for us. It’s like men doing a barbecue really. The wife prepares all the food, brings it to the barbecue and the man cooks it before handing the cooked food back to wife to plate up. There’ll be a few men of a certain vintage nodding, agreeing and laughing as they read this. The leftie feminist females with no sense of humour will be grumbling as they read this.

Additional sauces and fish flakes and herbs are also sprinkled over the concoction. However. Omelette is not the easiest food to eat with chopsticks. I can assure you. Really tasty. So much so. We order another.

In search of more beer, walk through a gambling arcade. Gambling for money is apparently illegal in Japan so they gamble for ball bearings which are then meant to be swapped for a prize on the premises. What can happen though is that the prize is swapped outside by the mafia. The arcade is full of people and the noise is incredible. Ball bearings clattering into trays and the music of the machines. Behind each seat are boxes full to the brim of ball bearings. Which I presume to be the winnings.

Down a side street are a series of what can best be described as garden sheds with little lean to extensions. Each is full of about half a dozen locals eating at the kitchen table being cooked by the owner. A single 100W light bulb dangles from the roof. There’s a real buzz about the place. An excellent atmosphere. Loving Japan.

Of course. When in Tokyo where should two Brits go for a beer. Yes. That’s right. The Tavern English pub.

That’ll be a pint of London Pride and a Marston’s Pedigree.

That’ll be £8 per pint!

RTW 25. Hiroshima

1 Reply

Thursday, 27 May 2010

Hiroshima, Japan

Sleek and slender is the Shinkansen Nozomi bullet train to Hiroshima. People stand in an orderly queue at the points marked on the platform where the doors will be. Not like the bloody pushing and shoving you get in the UK. Such a polite society. Once inside the train, it’s quite a wide cabin and you’re quite low down. Presumably to lower the centre of gravity. A mere sixty six minute journey at 300km/hr. Work that one out dear reader.

Arriving Hiroshima station grab one of the cleanest taxis I’ve ever been in. The rear doors are opened automatically by the driver. He tries to take my rucksack off me to put in the boot but soon wishes he hadn’t. It’s about as big and as heavy as the petite driver is.

“Velly heavy”, he says.

Check in to the Crowne Plaza (https://www.anacrowneplaza-hiroshima.jp/language/english/) but as it’s still only 1030hrs have to leave bag with reception. Bell boy takes rucksack off me to put in storage. Its 23kg is a struggle for him. Quite comical seeing him waddle with it.

Like Busan and Fukuoka, there’s a serenity and calmness to Hiroshima.

So.

This is where it all happened on 6 August 1945.

The beginning of the end of World War 2.

The famous landmark is the ‘A-dome’. The hypocentre of the bomb. The building was originally an exhibition hall with a large glazed dome. The bomb exploded 600m above and 160m away from it with a pressure of 35 tons per square metre which created a wind of 440 metres per second. Just think about that for a moment, dear reader. Nearly 1,000 miles per hour. It miraculously survived this blast whilst everything else in the city was completely obliterated. It’s retained exactly as it was as a reminder of the events in August 1945.

Around the A-dome are a load of school kids on a visit. It’s a mixed bag of yellow hats, white shirts, white hats etc for different groups. Approached by four young boys of about 8 or 9 years old and asked if I will answer some questions in English, to practice their language skills. Where am I from. What’s my favourite Japanese food. Can I write my name in this box. Can we take a picture of you. Their teacher is taking photos as we speak but we have a proper group photo. You can imagine how big I look at 6’5” towering over these young children, dear reader. Am thanked very much and the little lad that has been asking the questions gives me two paper origami cranes (as in birds not construction) for me to keep. Say their goodbyes and off I go.

Have wandered all of a few steps when approached by two young girls the same age as the lads. And repeat the whole process.

Finally left alone, walk over the bridge to the Peace Park with the constant dong, dong of the Peace Bell. Every school child is ringing it. The place is awash with school kids. School choir is singing in the Children’s Memorial and placing paper origami cranes (birds not construction) connected together by string on specially built hangers. As one group leaves, another quickly takes its place and does its bit. There’s a lot of cranes.

Once inside the Memorial Hall, silence reigns. Peaceful place for contemplation.

Across the plaza is the Peace Memorial Museum. Appears that Hiroshima was bombed due to its military camp and lack of POW camps. The USA wanted to end the war to prevent Russia being part of the post war allied front which it would have been if Russia declared war on Japan, as it was about to. If the USA could stop the war then Russia wouldn’t have such a great say in the region.

Impressive montages of a completely obliterated city along with video archives and photos from the bombing.

And.

Memories of survivors.

One poignant memory reads:

‘A dragonfly flitted in front of me and stopped on a fence. I stood up, took my cap in my hands, and was about to catch the dragonfly when…’