i think the honking of scooter horns is going to haunt my dreams for awhile. the traffic noise of new york city is nothing compared to the constant haranguing of horns. this place is like a perpetual shriner's parade, with fleets of scooters having took over the streets. the whole world rides scooters here, and in order to cross the street, even at lights and crosswalks, you take a little bit of your life in your hands trying to navigate around them. anarchy rules hanoi, and no where is it more prevalent then getting from one side of the road to another. when we first arrived, we made maddening dashes across, scooters and taxis bearing down on us as we shrieked and ran. but you get used to it, and soon learn to stroll out and make it across "frogger" style. two steps forward, one to the left, three ahead, one back...
if hong kong was asia lite, then vietnam is a foreign country intensive. immediately after exiting the airplane, you can tell this ain't a country to mess around. the communist guards give you beady stares as you walk the tarmac to customs, you don't want to go to jail here. i think this is the exact sort of thing my mother worries about when i travel. after you pass through to the main section of the airport, it is insanity, with mobs upon mobs of people crushing forward to embrace relatives newly arriving to the country. although it is a great sentiment, it feels fairly oppressing, being an american with a overtly-sensitive sense of personal space, these people push into you, grab past you and generally act as if you're an inanimate object. although its not scary, its a bit unpleasant and certainly overwhelming first few moments in a new country.
after realizing from the exchange rate - $100,000 VD (Vietnamese Dongs) = $6 USD - made us multi-millionaires, we tried to find a taxi, a legal taxi, to take us to our hotel. a half hour ride through rice fields and countless towns with thin, high, five storied colonial style houses, all painted bright colors, yet most tarnished by years of neglect. we found out later in a guide book that vietnamese used to be taxed on the width of their home, so they built them narrow and high. soon after leaving the airport, we noticed a few scooters surrounding our taxi, but he beeped at them and passed them. we were going about 50mph and it was difficult for them to keep up. but as we hit central hanoi (still no where near our hotel) it seemed like there were 12 scooters for every car, and 70% of the cars were taxis. and no one followed any sort of rules of the road. people made lefts from the right lane, cutting off 10 people, crossing over sidewalks, on sidewalks, just general mass hysteria. it was amazing there were no accidents, we saw about 10 near-misses just heading from the airport.
the sofitel metropole is in the center of old hanoi, just two blocks from the hoam kiem lake, also at center of old hanoi. this hotel was built in 1901 and its the epitome of posh. marble floors, oak paneling, and chandeliers as far as the eye could see, it felt like we were in some movie set. WE were staying HERE?! we checked in, dumped our stuff in the fancy room and set off to explore.
i was somewhat shell shocked, having realized i had never actually been in a foreign country without a native guide, and now walking around in someplace so far from any previous point of reference to me, i was just to overwhelmed to react. thankfully, todd, having just spent time in indonesia and turkey, took charge. he led us down the streets to try and find our way around. we were the only anglos around, and provoked both stares and lots of offerings. women walked by with a yokes on their shoulders and two baskets on either end, filled with a variety of offerings, including fruit, vegetables and various other food. some westerns must enjoy taking pictures wearing what constitutes as their livelihood, because many of them kept trying to just place the yokes on tara and my shoulders. i started what would become our main form of communication on this trip, saying, "no, no thank you, no!" while waving my right hand in a low "no" back and forth gesture. this photo opportunity was not the only thing we were offered. guidebooks, postcards, lighters, dolls, shirts, scooter rides, rickshaw rides, taxi rides, donuts were also proffered, and the seller was typically insistent, a bit forceful, and i little too familiar.
i hated that i was so caught off guard, disappointed with myself for getting flustered, trying not to stare at the plates of the vietnamese clustered on little stools every five feet, sitting on the sidewalk, eating cuisine cooked on kettles and barbecues directly next to them. webber had been kind enough to give me instructions on which of the famous vietnamese street food to eat, but i was way to chicken to break into these circles. i wondered, bemused, where my sense of adventure had dissapeared to as i watched women itch their feet, then add rice noodles to a pot, or rinse off a just used plate with water from a street faucet to serve another serving. i guess i'm a spoiled westerner, but i just couldn't do it. later on, we read on our guide book about the tap water in hanoi causing some westerners to have, ehem, "the world fall out of their bottem" so i wasn't too upset with my decision.
at one point we paused to try and catch our bearings and this old lady came up to me and started admonishing me in vietnamese. not yelling, but not friendly. she spoke rapidly at me and kept touching my shoulder bag. of course, i had no idea what she was upset about and could do nothing but just stand there. as we walked past rows of appliance "stores" basically interiors, no fronts, with dishwashers and stereos stacked inside and "mechanics" -- store interiors with seven guys pulling apart pieces of motorbikes, navigating around rows and rows of scooters parked on the sidewalk, i was stunned with the worlds apart this was from me. i've never visited the slums of any foreign country before, but this wasn't the slum, it was the central part of a major city. this was their life.
we visited the temple on the lake, and tara decided to rest up, so todd and i walked her back to the hotel, then set out to explore more. i was still somewhat nervous, and we decided to just hit one of the bar balconies surrounding one of the main intersections by the lake. it was sponsored by legends beer, and their "weisen" had a faint pineapple aftertaste which refreshed in this muggy 90degree F heat. we watched the scooter brigades go by, and more importantly, watching the locals cross six lanes of traffic. ok, THAT's how they do it. we realized that the "parting of the red sea" mentality needed to be employed in the future. todd and i caught up on people we knew and things going on, and people watched the scooters. you could tell which scooters were "big pimpin" and which were laggin. the gasoline and pollution was palatable here, so lots of people wore surgical masks, many in designer (burberry!) patterns and colors. around 5pm we started seeing whole families riding by, a baby standing in between the handlebars in front, followed by a man driving, with another kid sitting between him and his wife at the back. schoolkids in uniform drove by three on a scooter, and there must have been a sale on toilet paper somewhere because we saw countless people driving by with Costco worthy palates on their scooter.
fortified with some beers, i finally calmed down and was able to enjoy the walk back to the hotel. we tried a local place for dinner, by local, it was pretty much the same atmosphere and service you'd expect from any tourist town. the staff of teenagers laughing and hanging out with each other and basically ignoring the guests, which seeing that, bridged some of the culture gap, and we still had a decent meal, if one that required a little prodding. (who forgets to serve rice in vietnam?!) we retired to the bamboo bar at the pool at our fancy hotel, and enjoyed some cocktails. two more days in hanoi.
(huy is a city in the middle of vietnam, pronounced "way" - i learned how to make springrolls in huy-style but that's another story...)
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
and i forgot... (an add on to four)
there is this huge outdoor escalator, from the bottom (near the water) of central to the "mid-levels" the apartments for well, i guess mid-levels. its fun to take and beats the crap out of walking up 90 degree angle streets.
we passed a chalk board for a greek restaurant serving, "pan fried baby" and cracked the eff up. of course, the next line said, "lamb with carrots" but i mean, come on, they couldn't put "baby lamb" on one line.
little five month "mo" in tara's tummy was all, "no mommy no, don't eat the baby...!!" kickin up a storm as we cried with laughter.
the launguage gap, endless sources of amusement.
we passed a chalk board for a greek restaurant serving, "pan fried baby" and cracked the eff up. of course, the next line said, "lamb with carrots" but i mean, come on, they couldn't put "baby lamb" on one line.
little five month "mo" in tara's tummy was all, "no mommy no, don't eat the baby...!!" kickin up a storm as we cried with laughter.
the launguage gap, endless sources of amusement.
my, what big OMMMM you have - vacation notes four
the biggest sitting buddha in the world is on an island in hong kong. and its crazy big. so big, that people tell you its the biggest buddha and you're all, "yeh, ok, i get it, its the biggest." and you know its going to be the biggest, and you're expecting the buddha to be, well, big. but then you see it in the distance, when you're suspended about 1,000 feet in the air in an aerial tram hung between two mountains, and the damn thing DOMINATES the skyline and even from three mountains away its like, "my lord is that a big buddha!"
which does nothing to damper the surprised when you've climbed up 70 billion (exaggeration) stairs to stand at the foot of the buddha, and you realize the both of you could fit in one of the outstretched hand, and its like, blocking the sun, and once again you just marvel in how DAMN BIG THIS BUDDHA IS. its that big. fo' real.
what was also disconcerting is that this buddha was only completed in 1996, its not ancient and was probably designed to get chinese and tourist money alike, but its pretty crazy and super worth it, so, so what.
after the buddha tara and i took the amazingly clean and fast subway back to central town, and wandered around. this is what you think of when you see hong kong in movies, etc. a billion balconies with laundry and signs, signs just EVERYWHERE, shops, little cobblestone side streets, scooters, vegetable stands, restaurants, weird shops selling roots in jars and for some reason, an amazing amount of Seven11s. Weird. but amazing. i walked around like the people i hate in new york city -- slack jawed and staring up at it all with wonder.
we went to this cuban place for drinks, well, i drank, tara had a virgin daiquiri. funny thing in hong kong, i have been begging the latini's to go for asian food. i guess it would be like if they came to new york city and wanted to go to diners. i really could eat asian cuisine every single day, and have been laying off for the past few weeks in anticipation, and although they have promised to take me to their fave chinese place and for dim sum, i want more! we went for thai tonight and it was excellent.
tomorrow morning early, as most of you are leaving work today, we get on a plane for hanoi, and i plan on partaking in the tradition of pho for breakfast. we're also set to take a cooking class while there, so i am going to come back prepared to cook my own! lucky pete...
after dinner the three of us went and got a private room at happy feet, which is a foot reflexology place. my feet, are, very happy. apparently the foot is supposed to control all your organs, and the calculated massage makes your body happy too. no, not in that way, but i did tell her to take extra care of my liver. i heard the beer in vietnam rocks.
xx
which does nothing to damper the surprised when you've climbed up 70 billion (exaggeration) stairs to stand at the foot of the buddha, and you realize the both of you could fit in one of the outstretched hand, and its like, blocking the sun, and once again you just marvel in how DAMN BIG THIS BUDDHA IS. its that big. fo' real.
what was also disconcerting is that this buddha was only completed in 1996, its not ancient and was probably designed to get chinese and tourist money alike, but its pretty crazy and super worth it, so, so what.
after the buddha tara and i took the amazingly clean and fast subway back to central town, and wandered around. this is what you think of when you see hong kong in movies, etc. a billion balconies with laundry and signs, signs just EVERYWHERE, shops, little cobblestone side streets, scooters, vegetable stands, restaurants, weird shops selling roots in jars and for some reason, an amazing amount of Seven11s. Weird. but amazing. i walked around like the people i hate in new york city -- slack jawed and staring up at it all with wonder.
we went to this cuban place for drinks, well, i drank, tara had a virgin daiquiri. funny thing in hong kong, i have been begging the latini's to go for asian food. i guess it would be like if they came to new york city and wanted to go to diners. i really could eat asian cuisine every single day, and have been laying off for the past few weeks in anticipation, and although they have promised to take me to their fave chinese place and for dim sum, i want more! we went for thai tonight and it was excellent.
tomorrow morning early, as most of you are leaving work today, we get on a plane for hanoi, and i plan on partaking in the tradition of pho for breakfast. we're also set to take a cooking class while there, so i am going to come back prepared to cook my own! lucky pete...
after dinner the three of us went and got a private room at happy feet, which is a foot reflexology place. my feet, are, very happy. apparently the foot is supposed to control all your organs, and the calculated massage makes your body happy too. no, not in that way, but i did tell her to take extra care of my liver. i heard the beer in vietnam rocks.
xx
Sunday, May 13, 2007
asia lite - vacation notes three
the sheets here all smell like sandalwood. a familiar smell but not one associated with western sheets. a good metaphor for hong kong. its neither overwhelmingly asian, as i first expected, nor completely westernized, but rather somewhere in between. since the city is about to celebrate its 10th anniversary as part of china, it makes sense that centuries of english rule would have this affect on the country.
they drive on the opposite side of the road from the us (thanks jenny!) but unlike the metropolitan of london, they careen up a curving, one-way in each direction cliff side road cut into the mountain. all signs are written in both english and Cantonese. although most people are chinese, there are a fair amount of americans, british and europeans, but perhaps that is because we've been hitting fairly common tourist sights so far.
i had a moment or so of panic when my plane arrived way before tara and todd latini (affectionately know as "TL squared" or "TL2") expected, and once passing through customs i kinda wandered around the arrival area, wondering what exactly i should do. i had gotten confused about my arrival times, what if they had read the schedule wrong? without a cell phone, i needed to try and call her on a pay phone, but i didn't' have any local currency. so i visited a atm, only to receive $500 bills, hong kong dollars. so now i needed to find a way to transform these into a phone card or change. after talking to three visitor stations i was firmly directed to the correct place, and thankfully ran into tara and todd on the way. but felt better that if i had to, i probably could have gotten myself into hong kong proper solo, and had them meet me there.
the hong kong express from the airport takes you past chinese diseyland (i forget there was one here!) and some of the former outposts for the Beijing olympics, and into central hong kong in under twenty minutes. i was only in central hong kong for a few minutes as we zipped up the mountain to "the peak" where TL2, and most transplants, live. cabs are super cheap here, in fact, after london, everything seems super cheap here. the latini household, however, looks expensive. the wood floors are so shiny they could be mirrors, and about every window of their huge three bedroom (plus live-in maid quarters!) has spectacular views of the water. their main balcony overlooks the central part of central town, and its such a off putting feeling to be looking down on towering skyscrapers. manhattan looks tiny compared to this place. the international finance center (see "tomb raider 2") towers over everything else, which are all auspicious in daylight but kind of whimsical at night, where they seem to compete for the "silliest light show on the side of a building" award.
after dropping off my stuff and changing into attire appropriate for 85 degrees F and humid, tara and i head off to stanley, a shopping area located on the water half way across the island, near repulse bay. it stands to mention, that stanley was named after the prodigious lord stanley, yes THAT one, who would have been happy to hear of ottowa's victory last night. again, the cab raced around the precipitous curves of the mountains, wrong side of the road, which is not only a bit frightening but also Nassau inducing. a 25 minute cab ride there, it should be noted, cost about US$8. i shopped like an award winner, and managing to only spend about US$140. i loved looking at the money in my bank account at the atm here, since it gives your balance in HK$ and looks like much more then it actually is!
this could be very dangerous.
today i'm going to visit the biggest outdoor buddha in the world. ommmmm....
xx
they drive on the opposite side of the road from the us (thanks jenny!) but unlike the metropolitan of london, they careen up a curving, one-way in each direction cliff side road cut into the mountain. all signs are written in both english and Cantonese. although most people are chinese, there are a fair amount of americans, british and europeans, but perhaps that is because we've been hitting fairly common tourist sights so far.
i had a moment or so of panic when my plane arrived way before tara and todd latini (affectionately know as "TL squared" or "TL2") expected, and once passing through customs i kinda wandered around the arrival area, wondering what exactly i should do. i had gotten confused about my arrival times, what if they had read the schedule wrong? without a cell phone, i needed to try and call her on a pay phone, but i didn't' have any local currency. so i visited a atm, only to receive $500 bills, hong kong dollars. so now i needed to find a way to transform these into a phone card or change. after talking to three visitor stations i was firmly directed to the correct place, and thankfully ran into tara and todd on the way. but felt better that if i had to, i probably could have gotten myself into hong kong proper solo, and had them meet me there.
the hong kong express from the airport takes you past chinese diseyland (i forget there was one here!) and some of the former outposts for the Beijing olympics, and into central hong kong in under twenty minutes. i was only in central hong kong for a few minutes as we zipped up the mountain to "the peak" where TL2, and most transplants, live. cabs are super cheap here, in fact, after london, everything seems super cheap here. the latini household, however, looks expensive. the wood floors are so shiny they could be mirrors, and about every window of their huge three bedroom (plus live-in maid quarters!) has spectacular views of the water. their main balcony overlooks the central part of central town, and its such a off putting feeling to be looking down on towering skyscrapers. manhattan looks tiny compared to this place. the international finance center (see "tomb raider 2") towers over everything else, which are all auspicious in daylight but kind of whimsical at night, where they seem to compete for the "silliest light show on the side of a building" award.
after dropping off my stuff and changing into attire appropriate for 85 degrees F and humid, tara and i head off to stanley, a shopping area located on the water half way across the island, near repulse bay. it stands to mention, that stanley was named after the prodigious lord stanley, yes THAT one, who would have been happy to hear of ottowa's victory last night. again, the cab raced around the precipitous curves of the mountains, wrong side of the road, which is not only a bit frightening but also Nassau inducing. a 25 minute cab ride there, it should be noted, cost about US$8. i shopped like an award winner, and managing to only spend about US$140. i loved looking at the money in my bank account at the atm here, since it gives your balance in HK$ and looks like much more then it actually is!
this could be very dangerous.
today i'm going to visit the biggest outdoor buddha in the world. ommmmm....
xx
what a bunch of monarchy - vacation notes two
this wing of heathrow is a ghost town. gates 39-56 in the new terminal take 15 minutes to walk to from security. and now i sit waiting in front of gate 52, a mere hour before my scheduled hong kong boarding time and i'm completely, utterly alone. like, "night of the comet", "28 days later," alone. this is a beautiful change from the rest of heathrow which gives off the ambiance and sordidness of las vegas, only with more disorganization, more children and no gambling. at least, that i am aware of, in this airport, i wouldn't be too surprised if there were a back room poker den. high end shopping and liquor are everywhere, lights and noise, SO much noise. even through my ipod i can hear it.
then, right past the 1970's high-design corduroy walls of gate 38, the old terminal gives way to the new, wall open up to 24' high banks of windows on both sides, a monument of modern glass and steel. crystal cantilevered walkways shuttle out arrivals overhead as not to disturb those waiting to leave the country below. except for right now, there is no one to disturb but me. alone in the neat rows of eames inspired chairs, watching airplanes pull up and disappear through puffy clouds...
today i was able to visit kensington castle and eat at pizza express before i headed to the airport. the castle was permanent resident for some of the royals, and summer residence to most for awhile. before london spread to kensington, it was in the country and king george the first resided there for some time. much of the castle is off limits (apparently some crusty old monarchs still live ther!) but many of the ornate, ostentatious rooms are available for public viewing. the "tour" walks you through the process of gaining audience with the king, and although it seems like much nonsense in modern times, surrounded by such marble and gilt, the mind naturally turns to donald trump.
is he not the monarch of the united states, for all intents and purposes? he's got a lot of money, everyone knows him, his lavish, showy tastes are well documented, and he has no real power (over the economy or anything else, "apprentice" castmates aside) in the country, but still commands unwarranted respect and gentle mocking? quite frightening.
also in the castle were the last photographs taken of princess diana prior to her death by mario testino. these also juxtapose the difference between the formality of the throne and us commoners, as the relaxed, carefree pictures of diana laughing and grinning, slumped next to a couch on the floor, hands on hips, were said to represent her final transformation after her separation. although some originally appeared in vanity fair, many were new to the world. i was surprised how much i was impressed by then, i'd never really been one to follow her career path, but my sister and i discussed how vivid the memory was of being woken up by my mother at age seven or such, to watch the royal wedding on television. so perhaps, subconsciously, she has always had some importance in my life.
as i finish typing this a swarm of filipinos have taken over the area surrounding gate 52 and interrupted my quiet moment. probably for the better, no use rhapsodizing about the royals any further. amazingly enough, they seem to all be destined for hong kong, and it looks like i might be the only american on this plane. hmm. another first for me...
xx
then, right past the 1970's high-design corduroy walls of gate 38, the old terminal gives way to the new, wall open up to 24' high banks of windows on both sides, a monument of modern glass and steel. crystal cantilevered walkways shuttle out arrivals overhead as not to disturb those waiting to leave the country below. except for right now, there is no one to disturb but me. alone in the neat rows of eames inspired chairs, watching airplanes pull up and disappear through puffy clouds...
today i was able to visit kensington castle and eat at pizza express before i headed to the airport. the castle was permanent resident for some of the royals, and summer residence to most for awhile. before london spread to kensington, it was in the country and king george the first resided there for some time. much of the castle is off limits (apparently some crusty old monarchs still live ther!) but many of the ornate, ostentatious rooms are available for public viewing. the "tour" walks you through the process of gaining audience with the king, and although it seems like much nonsense in modern times, surrounded by such marble and gilt, the mind naturally turns to donald trump.
is he not the monarch of the united states, for all intents and purposes? he's got a lot of money, everyone knows him, his lavish, showy tastes are well documented, and he has no real power (over the economy or anything else, "apprentice" castmates aside) in the country, but still commands unwarranted respect and gentle mocking? quite frightening.
also in the castle were the last photographs taken of princess diana prior to her death by mario testino. these also juxtapose the difference between the formality of the throne and us commoners, as the relaxed, carefree pictures of diana laughing and grinning, slumped next to a couch on the floor, hands on hips, were said to represent her final transformation after her separation. although some originally appeared in vanity fair, many were new to the world. i was surprised how much i was impressed by then, i'd never really been one to follow her career path, but my sister and i discussed how vivid the memory was of being woken up by my mother at age seven or such, to watch the royal wedding on television. so perhaps, subconsciously, she has always had some importance in my life.
as i finish typing this a swarm of filipinos have taken over the area surrounding gate 52 and interrupted my quiet moment. probably for the better, no use rhapsodizing about the royals any further. amazingly enough, they seem to all be destined for hong kong, and it looks like i might be the only american on this plane. hmm. another first for me...
xx
Friday, May 11, 2007
man can not live on crisps alone - vacation notes one
so far, my vacation has not been the typical english experience, which is exactly what i had though it would be. in fact, kensington, my sister's 'hood, reminds me distinctly of blythe and carl's neighborhood in washington dc. except for the driving backwards. and her super posh house. but perhaps it is because i'm a decade veteran of new york city, nothing seems as foreign here as it did last time i visited, back in college and shortly after college. even the people don't look altogether that different. and i should know, i've been bloody staring...
and eavesdropping. i'm quite good at it actually. most likely because most brits seem to think americans are so dumb that if i put a semi-blank expression on my face, they must think i'm mentally counting sheep or such, because they have the most personal conversations immediately in my vicinity. i'v already decided my favorite (favourite?!) words here are "grim" which should be used more often and "pardon" instead of "excuse me" which i will adopt back in the states.
yesterday i just caught up with my sister and did a little stroll around her neighborhood, had some cornish pasties (two of which - onion cheese and tomato - and - piri piri chicken - were good, the third - lamb and mint - rubbish!) and napped like a champion. i had this illusion the ambien i popped on the plane was going to cure me from any jetlag, and was kinda disappointed to find out i was affected like any normal person. i wasted a few hours sleeping, and promptly fell asleep close to 9pm. actually, i passed out on the couch way before then, but woke up to have some "take away" Lebanese food. good stuff.
i've been trying some unusual food stuffs here, like a scotch egg (hardboiled egg wrapped in sausage) but i've got to tip my hat to the brits and there love of crisps, aka potato chips. i know chewy has ruminated about this before, but its astounding how many flavors they have. ehem, flavours. roast chicken? steak and onions? baked ham! bacon and blue cheese! and those are just the meats!! yesterday i had feta, lemon and thyme crisps and today we tried farmhouse cheddar and chives. i don't know why the cheddar was "farmhouse" but it was good. with all the variations, you seriously could go on an all crisp diet, croak of heart failure, and die with a smile on your face.
if you were washing them down with what i feel is a genius invention that someone needs to get on top of the bureau of ATF to allow in america. from marks & spenser, fine purveyor of ready to eat foods and stuff, come cocktails in a can. whisky and soda, vodka and tonic, gin and tonic, margaritas. and not "made from malt liquor to taste like a cocktail, cocktails" honest to god liquor and mixer in a can. bless them. who's ever headed off to a house party and though, "hey, i don't feel like beer tonight?" instead of buying a bottle and mixers, wondering if the host has ice, etc, etc, a six pack of these puppies and you're ready to go! this makes up for a lot of english culture.
although, beyond shopping, i can't say i've immersed myself in too much culture. driving by royal albert hall doesn't count. today we visited the Tate Modern, which was pretty auspicious. i liked it a bunch. i've always been a huge fan of surrealism and dug all the dali, miro, magrite and ernst they had there. practically a whole wing! but some of the other stuff, interesting to look at, yet i just don't understand. someone, please, and i say this without malice or sarcasm, explain rothko to me. i just don't get it. why?
the building itself is special, its a converted power station and an amazing feat of architecture. the one souvenir i've bought so far is a book about the four Tate museums and how they were designed. can't wait to read it.
not to say i haven't bought anything. i purchased two pairs of shorts at the infamous "topshop" yesterday, and although i dug 'em both, the store seems like a sibling to "forever 21" nothing too special. i also got a few trinkets to take to folks back home, and this weird, tart, so unusual its good, jam made from gooseberry and coriander for myself at borough market.
borough market is the london equivalent of chelsea market. although there is a history there, it resides underneath the famous london bridge and has all sorts of cool corners and eaves, but its basically just lots of fresh produce, meats and cheeses. it all looked tempting but nothing so out of the ordinary that you couldn't get it at, well, chelsea market. but it was still enjoyable to wander around and taste bits of this and that, snap a lot of pictures of the artfully arranged food. i'm aiming to get the art of picture composition down prior to asia, so i'm snapping a lot of shots. even when i excuse myself with the "well, i'm a tourist so its ok"
the one place tonight that i did NOT feel like a tourist was the absolute, yes THAT absolute, ice bar. its basically a gimmicky spot for tourists and first-daters (my sis: "well how can you tell they're on a first date" me: "cause they look all awkward and are carrying flowers, no one brings flowers to a third date.") and one big advertisement for the ice hotel in sweden. home of absolute. you pay £30 to gain access to a 24'x24' room which has been chilled to below zero and rimmed with blocks of ice. and ice benches, ice tables, an ice bar, and they serve absolute drinks in glasses made of out ice. they give you these silver "capes" made out of fake fur on the inside and with mittens attached and let you loose. you're not allowed to stay for more then 45 minutes, and you must make reservations, but once the novelty wore off, and your fingers got numb, it was like, "ok, so... this is the ice bar. um, so can we go?!"
the drinks were crazy awful too. like, "absolute peppar, apple liquor and pineapple juice" no, i did not just make that up to give an example, that's actually what my brother-in-law drank. i picked something with absolute raspberry and blue curacao that didn't sound disgusting but it tasted like generic 'tussin. ick. the nice sancerre we had at dinner erased the taste, thankfully, and it went well with my duck i devoured, in honor of the game pending in the good ole usa. go wings.
tomorrow i leave for hong kong and will quite literally spend a day in the air. i take off saturday evening and arrive monday morning. kinda like a bender but without the alcohol. or, er, much alcohol.
cheerio good chaps! xxoo
and eavesdropping. i'm quite good at it actually. most likely because most brits seem to think americans are so dumb that if i put a semi-blank expression on my face, they must think i'm mentally counting sheep or such, because they have the most personal conversations immediately in my vicinity. i'v already decided my favorite (favourite?!) words here are "grim" which should be used more often and "pardon" instead of "excuse me" which i will adopt back in the states.
yesterday i just caught up with my sister and did a little stroll around her neighborhood, had some cornish pasties (two of which - onion cheese and tomato - and - piri piri chicken - were good, the third - lamb and mint - rubbish!) and napped like a champion. i had this illusion the ambien i popped on the plane was going to cure me from any jetlag, and was kinda disappointed to find out i was affected like any normal person. i wasted a few hours sleeping, and promptly fell asleep close to 9pm. actually, i passed out on the couch way before then, but woke up to have some "take away" Lebanese food. good stuff.
i've been trying some unusual food stuffs here, like a scotch egg (hardboiled egg wrapped in sausage) but i've got to tip my hat to the brits and there love of crisps, aka potato chips. i know chewy has ruminated about this before, but its astounding how many flavors they have. ehem, flavours. roast chicken? steak and onions? baked ham! bacon and blue cheese! and those are just the meats!! yesterday i had feta, lemon and thyme crisps and today we tried farmhouse cheddar and chives. i don't know why the cheddar was "farmhouse" but it was good. with all the variations, you seriously could go on an all crisp diet, croak of heart failure, and die with a smile on your face.
if you were washing them down with what i feel is a genius invention that someone needs to get on top of the bureau of ATF to allow in america. from marks & spenser, fine purveyor of ready to eat foods and stuff, come cocktails in a can. whisky and soda, vodka and tonic, gin and tonic, margaritas. and not "made from malt liquor to taste like a cocktail, cocktails" honest to god liquor and mixer in a can. bless them. who's ever headed off to a house party and though, "hey, i don't feel like beer tonight?" instead of buying a bottle and mixers, wondering if the host has ice, etc, etc, a six pack of these puppies and you're ready to go! this makes up for a lot of english culture.
although, beyond shopping, i can't say i've immersed myself in too much culture. driving by royal albert hall doesn't count. today we visited the Tate Modern, which was pretty auspicious. i liked it a bunch. i've always been a huge fan of surrealism and dug all the dali, miro, magrite and ernst they had there. practically a whole wing! but some of the other stuff, interesting to look at, yet i just don't understand. someone, please, and i say this without malice or sarcasm, explain rothko to me. i just don't get it. why?
the building itself is special, its a converted power station and an amazing feat of architecture. the one souvenir i've bought so far is a book about the four Tate museums and how they were designed. can't wait to read it.
not to say i haven't bought anything. i purchased two pairs of shorts at the infamous "topshop" yesterday, and although i dug 'em both, the store seems like a sibling to "forever 21" nothing too special. i also got a few trinkets to take to folks back home, and this weird, tart, so unusual its good, jam made from gooseberry and coriander for myself at borough market.
borough market is the london equivalent of chelsea market. although there is a history there, it resides underneath the famous london bridge and has all sorts of cool corners and eaves, but its basically just lots of fresh produce, meats and cheeses. it all looked tempting but nothing so out of the ordinary that you couldn't get it at, well, chelsea market. but it was still enjoyable to wander around and taste bits of this and that, snap a lot of pictures of the artfully arranged food. i'm aiming to get the art of picture composition down prior to asia, so i'm snapping a lot of shots. even when i excuse myself with the "well, i'm a tourist so its ok"
the one place tonight that i did NOT feel like a tourist was the absolute, yes THAT absolute, ice bar. its basically a gimmicky spot for tourists and first-daters (my sis: "well how can you tell they're on a first date" me: "cause they look all awkward and are carrying flowers, no one brings flowers to a third date.") and one big advertisement for the ice hotel in sweden. home of absolute. you pay £30 to gain access to a 24'x24' room which has been chilled to below zero and rimmed with blocks of ice. and ice benches, ice tables, an ice bar, and they serve absolute drinks in glasses made of out ice. they give you these silver "capes" made out of fake fur on the inside and with mittens attached and let you loose. you're not allowed to stay for more then 45 minutes, and you must make reservations, but once the novelty wore off, and your fingers got numb, it was like, "ok, so... this is the ice bar. um, so can we go?!"
the drinks were crazy awful too. like, "absolute peppar, apple liquor and pineapple juice" no, i did not just make that up to give an example, that's actually what my brother-in-law drank. i picked something with absolute raspberry and blue curacao that didn't sound disgusting but it tasted like generic 'tussin. ick. the nice sancerre we had at dinner erased the taste, thankfully, and it went well with my duck i devoured, in honor of the game pending in the good ole usa. go wings.
tomorrow i leave for hong kong and will quite literally spend a day in the air. i take off saturday evening and arrive monday morning. kinda like a bender but without the alcohol. or, er, much alcohol.
cheerio good chaps! xxoo
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Meet the new blog, same as the old blog...
i always said i would stay on myspace until it bit me in the ass. it actually never came to that, i just got bored as hell with the childish antics it brought out in everyone. in an attempt to salvage myself from the lame, i've moved all my older blog posts over to this space.
time permitting, i hope to keep it going and keep writing. of course, if my workload keeps up, i may wind up blogging about the need for deeper pools of liquidity in the global block trading marketplace.
but i'll try to keep it a little bit more topical.
time permitting, i hope to keep it going and keep writing. of course, if my workload keeps up, i may wind up blogging about the need for deeper pools of liquidity in the global block trading marketplace.
but i'll try to keep it a little bit more topical.
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