Category Archives: Around the World in 60 Days

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…’

RTW 24. Anything to declare?

Leave a Reply

Wednesday, 26 May 2010

Fukuoka, Japan

Fast hydrofoil ferry across the Sea of Japan to that romantically named Japanese city of Fukuoka. Hydrofoil rises up out of the water as it gathers speed. Once out into open water there’s a bit of a swell and told to fasten seat belts and remain in our seats. Oooer. Don’t do rough seas. Fortunately, sitting at the front with a panoramic view out the window so can concentrate on the horizon. Turns out to be manageable. Not nearly as bad as a Brittany Ferries crossing from Poole to Cherbourg I once experienced. No. That was like being thrown about in a tumble dryer. Now that was rough.

After 3hrs approach the port of Fukuoka. Large ferris wheel similar to the London Eye and a very tall tower are the main points on the skyline.

Immigration takes ages as I’m one of the last on the boat to disembark. Japan requires fingerprints and photograph on entry. Obviously too tall for the camera so have to bend in half to get myself in frame.

Pass through customs. And for the second time ever get stopped. First time was at the Channel Tunnel in 1999. My car got searched on exiting the UK. Asked why they stopped me, the reply was, “Because you were driving a newish car and you looked young.” It was a 5 year old Rover 214 (remember them!?) and I was 29. The third time was again at the Channel Tunnel in 2018. Got pulled over by customs. He asks if I voted Leave in the Brexit referendum. I did. He shakes my hand and tells me to be on my way. You couldn’t make it up, dear reader.

Thinking it’s a formality in Fukuoka as I’m the only non-Asian, the young uniformed boy asks where I’m from. England. Rucksack is searched. He finds a plastic wallet. Which is inspected. The usual paperwork of travel insurance policies, spare cash, vaccination certificates etc. And my second passport. Bugger. Have a mild panic. I know that some countries don’t allow you to have two passports. He looks through second passport. And then looks through my first passport. And notes that I’ve come through Belarus, Russia, Mongolia and Korea. And that I’ve been to Qatar. Which for some reason piques his interest.

Keeps asking if I smoke. Not sure if he’s tapping me up for some ciggies or trying to ascertain if I have any drugs. Second passport is now being scrutinised and hoping that it’s not going to go all Pete Tong. Checks first passport with second passport. This. Is. Taking. Time. Finally, satisfied that there is nothing untoward am handed both passports back. Which are quickly pocketed.

And then he says, “Looney”

What?

“Looney”

You telling me I’m bonkers?

Ah. It all becomes clear.

He means “Rooney”. As in Wayne Rooney, the England and Manchester United football striker. Somewhat relieved he’s only asking questions out of interest, tell him I’m travelling around the world by train. Not that he can understand English. Ends up me with me making the motions and “choo-choo” noises in customs. Like a complete looney.

They’ve clearly decided I am quite looney and am released to exit customs. First thing to do is find one of those small hotel leaflets that you find in airports so I can show it the taxi driver. Otherwise, we’ll not be going anywhere fast. More bowing as I enter the Crowne Plaza (https://www.anacrowneplaza-fukuoka.jp/lang/en/). Receptionist says, “I have an idea…” and proceeds to tell me about a room upgrade but my interest soon wanes when I discover I have to pay for the upgrade. Not an upgrade then is it.

First world problems arise. My phone isn’t working. Japan uses 3G. My phone is 2G only. Oh how that dates this blog!

Walk around Fukuoka and like Busan there’s a calmness and serenity to the city. Find a mall with an amusement arcade and ramen stadium. Ramen being the local noodle speciality. Amusement arcade is full of twenty something males playing arcade games in their work suits.

It’s quite a bizarre sight.

And one that I will get used to in Japan.

RTW 23. We Trust You!

Leave a Reply

Tuesday, 25 May 2010

Busan, South Korea

Not stopping in Seoul since I have to get to Japan to meet an old mate (as in longevity) this weekend in Yokohoma, on the outskirts of Tokyo. Necessitates zipping down the South Korean peninsula to Busan, crossing the sea to Japan, zipping up Japan to Yokohama. Where copious amounts of beer will no doubt be waiting. Before flying back to Seoul next week for a few days sightseeing. No time now you see.

So.

High speed train to Busan. Tickets purchased for the lowly sum of £40 for a First Class seat on a 3hr journey. Wish it was that price in the UK. None of the usual rigmarole of ticket barriers like we have in the UK. No. Just some writing on the floor of the platform entrance which says.

‘We Trust You! (Only paid customers past this line)’

Can you imagine that happening in the UK?

Indeed, I don’t have my ticket checked at all on the journey.

By high speed train I mean high speed.

300km/hr. 186mph.

Yes. That fast.

Frenetic Seoul city soon gives way to paddy fields and mountains which in turn become cities which in  turn become paddy fields and so on. As we zoom along at an amazing speed. Very smooth but find I have to focus on distant objects as focussing on things near the track makes you dizzy with the speed at which they pass by. Blink and you’ll miss it.

Train staff bow every time they enter and exit the carriage. Can you imagine that happening on the East Coast Main Line?

Arrive in Busan, the world’s 5th largest container port apparently, and check in to the Commodore Hotel (https://www.commodore.co.kr/eng/html/main/) built in the style of a Buddhist type temple. Very ornate and colourful. More bowing ensues at reception. So I bow. Then they bow to my bow. So I bow to their bow to my bow. And so it goes on. It amuses me anyway.

Having bought the ferry ticket months ago decide to check out ferry terminal and make sure everything is in order. Petite South Korean girl at the ferry terminal is so sweet and tries her best English out. Which is just about understandable. She asks why I’ve come today when the ferry is tomorrow. Takes some time but we eventually get there.

Very peaceful and serene feeling as I wander the backstreets. Despite being a city, there’s a calmness to the place. As I walk down one particular back street, this serenity is disturbed by the faint clickety clackety noise of printers. The street is lined by open fronted small shops, each with a single small printer churning out leaflets.

Seeing a tower tower over the city make my way to investigate. Built in 1973, the 120m tall Busan Tower affords great views over Busan city and the small islands and boats dotted around the coastline. From this vantage point can make out what appears to be a covered walkway which requires investigation. Transpires that it’s a cascade of half a dozen or so escalators. Which are in going up mode only. Which doesn’t help as I need to go down. At the foot of the escalators is an upmarket street which leads to a fish market by the harbourside. Wow. Some weird and wonderful sea creatures on display that I’ve never seen before. Some look like penises. Which makes you squirm when you see a stall holder chopping them up.

Clearly the subject of discussion amongst the female stallholders as I walk by. They’re taken by my height. As I’m taking photos of something, a woman sidles up to me and checks her height against mine. She comes up to my waist. To the amusement of her fellow stall holders. All the stalls are run by women, presume the men are out fishing, and they all have multi-coloured umbrellas with the fish displayed on plastic tubs. There’s a real buzz here and it’s fascinating ambling along taking it all in. So engrossed am I in it that I find I have walked the entire length of the harbour.

Which will need a glass of wine to recover from all that strenuous activity. Ahem.

Looking forward to a large glass of wine.

The glass of wine arrives.

It’s a thimble.

Oh dear. This won’t do.

RTW 22. Solo soul in Seoul

1 Reply

Monday, 24 May 2010

Seoul, South Korea

Farewell Russia. It’s been oblast (that was a joke, dear reader).

Flying to Seoul with Korean Airways.

The bowing starts.

Air stewardesses bow after giving the safety briefing. Bow after presenting my in flight meal. Chief Steward comes over to all of us in Business Class to thank us personally for flying Korean Airways. And bows.

Driver of the bus taking me to downtown stands at the front, asks us to fasten seatbelts and bows. The two baggage handlers loading the bus bow as we depart.

Ninety minute journey to downtown from Incheon airport through low cloud and rain. Reminds me of the first time in Hong Kong. Except it’s not 35C and 100% humidity. Thankfully.

Arrive at the Ibis Myeongdong (http://ibis-styles-ambassador-myeongdong.seoul-hotels-kr.com/en/). There’s some thought gone into this. The bus stop is right outside the hotel entrance. There’s research. And there’s research.

Greeted on the 19th floor reception by two beautiful and beaming young girls. More bowing ensues as I leave to find my room.

And then. For the first time. Having to deal with those snazzy toilets. You know. The ones that are like the flight deck of the Spaceship Enterprise. The toilet massages your bum. Sprays your bum. Warms your bum. Dries your bum.

Love your bum.

Quite extraordinary.

I was using outside long drop toilets a few days ago in Siberia. Now this.

In need of a leg stretch after dinner wander the very busy streets surrounding the hotel. What a buzz. Bus stops are impressive. They have interactive graphics denoting the next ten or so buses due at that stop and how far away they are.

All the shops are open, even late at night. Quite a few of which have scantily clad, beautiful young girls outside with microphones trying to entice people in.

Last time I had scantily clad girls trying to entice me in was Hong Kong.

But that anecdote is for a few beers with the lads.

Not for you delicate readers.

RTW 21. 9,288km from Moscow

Leave a Reply

Sunday, 23 May 2010

Vladivostok, Russia

Despite not going to bed until half past two this morning have slept rather well, dear reader. All that wine, whisky and vodka you see. Mr Ex-Army and I both bleary eyed.

Having followed the flooded Amur River since we left Ulan Ude three days ago, wake up to find a message on my mobile phone, ‘Welcome to China’. It being just across the river. It being a Sunday there’s plenty of people picnicking and fishing by this wide river.

Late morning by the time we enter Vladivostok. Grotty apartment blocks pass by. Like Irkutsk and Novosibirsk, Vladivostok was a ‘closed’ city during Soviet times and first impressions are that it should remain closed. Think Plymouth on a miserable grey day.

Disembark the Trans Siberian Express for the final time.

Quite sad really.

Now 9,288km from Moscow.

Not known as being a top tourist destination, Vladivostok’s things to see and do takes two hours. Being home to the Russian Pacific Fleet, there’s a submarine on dry land to visit which is dreadfully small and uncomfortable to move about in. Take the funicular railway up to the Eagle’s Nest. It’s conductress with bright orange hair is not a happy person judging by the pout. It’s only when I ask for her photo and put my arm round her for a laugh does she break into a smile. Taurean charm you see.

Funicular trip worth it as the Eagle’s Nest affords fantastic views of the city. Were it not grey and overcast.

For the first time in nearly two weeks feels strange to be sleeping in a bed that is not moving all the time. The Hotel Hyundai ( https://www.lottehotel.com/vladivostok-hotel/en.html) has a bizarre fire escape system. A rope is hooked to a built in loop with harness. In the event of a fire, you’re meant to put the harness on, exit by the window and lower yourself down the rope to escape from this 12 storey hotel.

Except.

The window only opens six inches.

There’ll not be many escaping the flames.

Another farewell dinner. The final farewell. All will be flying back to Moscow tomorrow.

Except me.

I’m off to Seoul. South Korea.

And the next leg of my journey.

RTW 20. Vauxhall

Leave a Reply

Saturday, 22 May 2010

Siberia Transit, Russia

Final day on the Trans Siberian Express. Which is now running over two hours late. Train is clinking and clattering all day as we speed along the tracks to make up the time with some real loud shock waves from the couplings. Literally bouncing along the tracks. Timings for the various platform stops, where the train can be stationary for about half an hour whilst there’s a change of passengers and crew at each station, are all out.

It’s only at one platform stop that it’s explained to us that the Russian Cyrillic letters we’ve been seeing at every railway station which resemble ‘BOK3AN’ are pronounced ‘vokzal’. Told that in the last century a Russian delegation visited London to learn about the railways. They were taken to the nearest railway station in London which just happened to be at Vauxhall. When the Russians asked what it was called the reply came ‘Vauxhall’ thinking they meant the station name.

So.

‘Vokzal’ is now Russian for railway station.

The stuff you learn on this blog, dear reader.

WAMC invites me over to South Africa for a safari and to visit their home in Johannesburg and farm near Durban. Have formed a new friendship with WAMC and his wife the past two weeks. One that continues ten years later as I write this. I visit them in South Africa in 2011 and again in 2013 and meet them in the UK a number of times over the years. Thank you WAMC for your friendship. We’ve had some great times over the years. This is what I like about travelling. Meeting new people. New characters. New experiences.

Creating memories.

Farewell dinner on board and the obligatory glass of champagne to toast the trip, which has been utterly brilliant. If you ever get the chance, dear reader, do the Trans Siberian in style aboard the Golden Eagle Express.

A group of travellers have been learning Russian the past few days and so treated to what can best be described as a decent attempt at singing a song in Russian. Great atmosphere on board and the party continues in the bar car. Keep ordering drinks but then can’t pay for them as the barman and pianist have cleared off to bed. It now being 0130hrs. Mr Ex-Army and I are in the same carriage so continue drinking in his cabin with the remnants of whatever we have left in our rations.

Whisky and vodka.

Until the early hours.