Around the World part 6: Agra

We woke early on our third day in Delhi, eagerly anticipating our visit to the Taj Mahal.  However after our driver, Gil, handed turned up after 20 minutes, we decided to give him a call. He sleepily told us that he would be at our hotel by 6am, but after explaining that since it was nearing 6:30 already, this didn’t seem likely, he promised to hurry.

The drive from Delhi to Agra is 204km, which you would expect to take two to two and half hours. You’d be wrong. As we settled into the drive, competing with Tuk Tuks, carts, swerving lorries our driver told us he hope to get us there in four hours or so. Five hours and half  later, after a quick stop for breakfast, we arrived in Agra. On the way we’d seen decorated piles of cow manure (used for fuel); “home made” trucks using old reclaimed engines and horse carts; Tuk Tuks crammed with more than twenty five people; lorries driving the wrong way on our side of the highway median.  We were also exposed to traditional Indian singing (courtesy of Gil) and enlightened with many of his theories, including: “divorce is obligatory in the US”; the reason for the weakness in the India Rupee is that “Pakistan stole some Indian printing presses”; “three girlfriends at once is the minimum”; we were told that he had a good friend in the White House, but the Indian government wouldn’t let him leave to visit because he was too poor; and some jokes such as:

Heaven is an Indian wife and American salary; hell is an Indian salary and American wife

In Agra we met a local tour guide that Gil had arranged for us, and hopped on a golf cart which took us down a hill towards the Taj Mahal complex itself.  Passing through the Red sandstone walls and the security check, we entered into an inner courtyard, separated from the gardens in front of the Taj itself by another crenellated red wall and the great gate, made of marble and sandstone, with arches echoing and inlaid Qu’ranic script echoing that of the Taj.  As we entered into the gatehouse, we caught our first glimpse of the iconic tomb that Shah Jahan constructed for his favourite wife, Mumtaz, framed in the dark arch of the gateway.  In front of the main tomb, a long reflection pool extends towards the guardhouse, flanked by gardens on either side.  The red walls frame the gardens and travel to the banks of the river Yamuna.  On either side of the white tomb, there are two sandstone buildings, to the left, a mosque constructed for the construction workers to pray in, the other serves no practical purpose but is a mirror image of the mosque and reflects the designers desire for perfect symmetry within the Taj’s main complex.  Gazing along the pool, which reflects the glittering tomb, you cannot help but be moved with a sense of wonderment. It’s hard to describe the breathtaking testament to a love lost emanating from the smooth white marble copulas, arches, and minarets of the Taj Mahal.

Approaching nearer, after taking the requisite tourist photos, the sense of amazement grows, as the calligraphy and decoration starts to become more apparent, with inlaid stones of yellow marble, jasper, and jade set against the polished white marble. We approached from the left, since the central path is reserved for Indian tourists. As we walked up the stairs on to the gleaming plinth on which the tomb is constructed our guide offered us some interesting facts about the Taj Mahal complex, noting for example, that the minarets are built at a slight angle so that in the event that they collapse, they would be more likely to fall away from the main building. In retrospect, we didn’t learn anything that we had not already gleaned from Wikipedia, but we were so glad to be experiencing the Taj Mahal in person that having a fairly uninspiring guide didn’t really seem to matter.

Entering through the iwan (arched door) we were greeted by an elaborately cut octagonal marble screen (jail) surrounding the sarcophagi of Mumtaz and Shah Jahan.  Since Islamic law forbids the elaborate decoration of coffins, the real, plain coffins lie beneath the floor, and the caskets are made of carved marble inlaid with a lapidary of precious and semi-precious gems.  The walls extend up 25 metres to a false dome set beneath the external onion-shaped dome.  This has the effect of amplifying the sounds created in the main chamber, which, since it was packed with tourists created a cacophony that was slightly at odds with the intention of the tomb as a final resting place. The Indian tourists in particular seemed to have little regard for the rules against photography inside the tomb, creating an almost comical situation in which a flash would go off, a security guard would shrilly blow his whistle and scramble through the crowd to find the offender, before another flash would explode off the white marble causing him to turn red faced on his heels, huff on the whistle, and dive off through the crowd again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Emerging back into the glare of sunlight, we circled the main building on the plinth, looking out across the Moonlight gardens to the north of the Yamuna river, before heading back towards the gatehouse.  After stopping to look back and take mental etchings of the Taj we crossed back through red wall, and headed back to find Gil.  Our guide offered to take us to a museum detailing the lapidary craft of inlaying gems into marble, with demonstrations from craftsmen descending from the original artists who worked on the Taj Mahal.  The museum turned out to be a store (unsurprisingly), but we did enjoy watching a gem cutter and a marble carver work as a duo to create a floral inlay in a piece of white marble. Theo and I, after much haggling, bought a set of inlaid marble coasters for our apartment – as much to escape the store as for the memory, and we got back into the car.  Resisting the guides implorations to visit the “must see” gem museum, and his suggestion of a lunch spot, as we couldn’t really afford to get stuck in another tourist trap we dropped the guide off and headed back home to Delhi.

If the drive out was crazy, the drive back was nothing short of insane.  Six hours into the ordeal we were still well outside the city limits when we were hit by a swerving truck.  Luckily the car was not written off and nobody was hurt, despite a large gash and dent in the side.  Gil, gesticulating wildly, managed to get the truck driver to pull over, creating a scene on the side of the road, as curious passersby stopped, surrounding the two drivers like so many kids about to witness an after-school fight.  Forty five minutes later, after police intervention, we were again on our way, crawling back for another two hours until we finally reached our hotel.  We were extremely glad to have experienced the Taj Mahal in all its splendor, and no less glad to have made it back to Delhi in one piece.  Saying our goodbyes to Gil, we went upstairs to pack and have dinner (room service) in preparation for our 3am cab ride to the airport.

At the airport we dealt with the issue of the hotel calling the cab to impose additional charges for something “they had forgot to post to our account”, which we found odd since our itemized bill seemed to suggest otherwise.  Nevertheless the driver refused to let us out with our baggage until we had settled the matter.  This was difficult since by this point we had no excess Rupees, so Kevin had to go into the terminal and find an ATM, and then slip out past security (who for some reason wouldn’t let him leave), before we could get on our way to South Africa.

Around the World part 6: Delhi (Day 2)

On our second day in Delhi, we headed out to the Chandni Chowk metro station in Old Delhi, where we met up with our friend Courtney and her friend Chloe. It was Courtney and Chloe’s last day on the Indian leg of their a capella group’s world tour, and they had suggested that we head up with them to see Khari Baoli street. This street at the western end of Chandni Chowk has since the 17^th century been home to Delhi’s main spice market, and is now home to the largest wholesale spice centre in the world.  As we worked our way up to the market,  we began to catch the wafting scent of  cardamom, cinnamon, cloves and numerous other notes.  Turning the corner onto Khari Baoli itself, we saw a jumble of tiny storefronts on both sides of the road, with barrels and tables showing off their (identical) colourful stocks of all imaginable spices.  The centre of the street was jammed with carts, through which weaved porters balancing burlap sacks crammed with spices on their heads.  The finer powders clouded out of the sacks as the porters bumped and jostled their way through the crowd creating a sort of mist – not unlike those you see in old rooms when beams of sunlight stream through a window catching the suspended particles of dust in their path. We were soon all sneezing uncontrollably, and I started to understand what it must be like to have hayfever on a high pollen count day.

After exploring the spice market, we went back towards the red fort in search of cloth for Chloe (unsuccessfully) – although there were many merchants with stacks of saris, scarves, and other finished cloth products that we found piled into the back alleys.  We then decided it was high time to find shelter from the scorching heat.  Chloe headed off to meet more of her singing group at the Lotus Temple, while the rest of us found a taxi to take us to Karim’s restaurant.

Karim’s is tucked away in a backstreet in the shadow of the Jama Masjid. The food is prepared outside in large titled pots outside – giving us the closest experience to street food we would dare to try.  Passed down through four generations descending from the chef to the old Mughal court, Karim’s boasts what is considered some of the best Mughlai cuisine in the world, and is ranked by TIME as one of the top restaurants in Asia (despite it’s incredibly unpretentious setting).

After a delicious meal, we all (bravely) crammed into a Tuk Tuk and headed back to the hotel, where we said good bye to Courtney, who was off to Paris.  We then had a fairly relaxing evening, conscious of the early wake up that we had the next day in order to make it out to Agra with plenty of time to see  our second wonder of the world (on this trip): the Taj Mahal.

In the process of cramming into the Tuk Tuk

Around the World Part 6: Delhi (Day 1)

After having arrived relatively late in Delhi the previous evening, we woke up on the morning of our first day ready to take in some of Delhi’s historic sites.  We had booked a car and guide, so we all crammed into the back seat of the small Toyota and headed out.  We had given the touring company a list of the sites we wanted to see, but the guide had his own agenda, and so we ended up ceding to his advice (there was a lot of overlap anyway).

Our first stop, after passing by the Red Fort (closed on Mondays) was the Jama Masjid, a large mosque on top of a hill in old Delhi.  After donning saris to cover the leg left exposed by our shorts, we had a wander around the central area.  The mosque itself is flanked by two tall minarets and is made of a red sandstone inlaid with white marble, arch shaped echo chambers designed to project the Imman’s voice out over the plaza.  The main gate, on the opposite side of the prayer area to the mosque building looks out along a causeway directly to the Red Fort, from which the Mughal emperors would come to pray on Fridays.

Leaving the mosque we had our first encounter with the infamous gangs of begging street children as we had a brief look into the winding, narrow streets of Old Delhi. Although it breaks the heart to see kids reduced to begging in the streets, our guide assured us that the archetypical con of gangs forcing children to beg (as per Slumdog Millionaire) was very much in effect.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We then went Raj Ghat, to the spot where the Mahatma, Gandhi, was cremated.  Surrounded by white wall and an earth embankment, we removed our shoes to step into the grassy square, at the centre of which lies a slab created from black stone.  Atop the slabs a flame burns in lantern-like glass.  The stone is otherwise bare apart from a few flowers, and in metal lettering Gandhi’s (disputed) last words – “oh Ram” or  “oh God” written in Hindi.

हे ! राम

After making our way back to the car we headed over to the India Gate.  On the way we experienced a little more Delhi traffic, which was arguably worse than Mumbai’s.  Something that struck us as we were stopped in a honking jumble of cars outside some police barricades was how many official signs and postings here were hand painted.  Not just shop fronts, but even the license plates on cars and the (in this part of the city) ubiquitous yellow police barriers were emblazoned with brushed-on paint, which seemed to us to be rather inefficient. In some cases it meant that the yellow gates were mislabeled as “Delh” or “Dlhi” rather than “Delhi Police”, and it was an effective reminder of just how cheap labour is in this part of the world. Five minutes, and maybe 500 metres from the park where Gandhi was cremated, we were involved in our first Indian car accident, as a bus sideswiped our car.  Fortunately we, and the bus, were moving at such a slow pace due to the traffic that no serious harm was done.  After the requisite shouting match between our driver and the bus driver, we eventually made our way to the India Gate.

The India Gate looks rather similar to the Gateway to India that we saw in Mumbai.  It is inscribed with the names of all those in the Indian Armed Services who fell in the cause of the various British Imperial Wars (WWI & WWII included).  Below the arch is a perpetually burning flame, watched over by an honour guard.  Along a straight causeway from the arch, and up a hill, sit the palatial parliament offices – with Greco-Roman inspired columned colonnades that invokes the same sense of power that was intended of some buildings in Washington DC. After taking some pictures at the India Gate, and driving past the parliament buildings, we went over to the tomb of the Emperor Humayun.

Humayun’s tomb is set within a walled complex of tombs, gardens and temples. The gardens, which were conspicuous for their lacking of rubbish that litters the streets outside the walls, led to what is sometimes know as the ‘mini Taj Mahal’. Built from sandstone and marble, it is notable for containing not just the remains of the Emperor, but also of many of his family members. At its centre, asimple marble rectangle contain the remains of Humayun , the tall vaulted hall in which it lies gaining in solemnity from its lack of too much distracting ornamentation, which was present only in the delicately latticed patterns of the marble set into the arched windows, and a simple black triangles creating interlocking jet sunbursts on the polished floor.

Following the visit to Humayun’s tomb, we continued our packed itinerary with a stop by the Qutub Minar.  The complex, built in 1192 AD after the destruction of the Jain temples which had previously occupied the same ground, is the site of a tall column-esque structure, with successive levels added by  conquering Emperors as monument to their victories.  In the shadow of this large Minar is a much smaller column, dating from 400 AD.  Standing amongst the ruins of the carved arches of the Jain temples, it is made of solid iron. A metallurgical wonder, its surface has been protected from corrosion because of its smoothness, and it is estimated to weigh over 6500 kilograms. It is said to be good luck to be able to interlace your hands behind your back, wrapping your arms all the way around the column as you do so.  Unfortunately it is now ring fenced to protect it from the sweat of visitors (sensible since it was over 100F that day).  Despite the oppressive heat, we enjoyed having a wander through the archways of the old temples, which, had they not been in the Delhi metropolis, would have evoked the ruins described in Kipling’s Jungle Book.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our guide then dropped us off at what was obviously a tourist trap restaurant – the only other patrons were foreign and the menu was overpriced. We had a feeling that the guide probably got some kind of kick back from bringing groups there.  After the lunch, and a drive by the Lotus temple – reminiscent of the Sydney Opera House in its architecture, the tourist baiting continued. Our guide insisted on taking us to see the produce of Kashmiri artisans, since he himself was originally from Kashmir.  Ushered into the back room of a carpet warehouse, and offered tea, we were shown how rugs are produced and knotted on a loom.  The education was genuinely interesting, but the inevitable imploration to buy a souvenir (hideously overpriced) as a “tribute” to the artisans was a little grating. Here we are almost certain that the guide got some form of financial kickback – and it was irritating that we had been driven out for thirty minutes to our last “cultural destination”, which turned out to be nothing more than an overpriced store.  After finally extracting ourselves from the store, and having left our guide at the end of the road, we headed back to the hotel.  On the way our driver, knowing that we had booked a Taj Mahal day trip through the same guide company, told us to ditch the company booking and hire him privately.  He swore on his honour that he would pay the tour company, though given he was offering us a discounted rate we couldn’t see how – but we nevertheless agreed to see him again at 6 on the Wednesday.

Tired from a good days touring, Kevin decided to have a nap, while Theo and I went out to explore the Karol Bagh market.  After an hour or so of looking through display after display of all kinds of goods (many of theme fakes or knock offs), and a brief excursion into a slum (wrong turn). We headed back home, trying to avoid the hordes of tuk tuk drivers insistent on taking us to a “must see store”.  After rousing Kevin, we went out to an interesting Art Deco styled restaurant just down the street to watch England play France to a draw, before heading back to rest up for the following day.

Around the World Part 5: Mumbai

Day 1

Our visit to Mumbai (or Bombay as some still call it) was brief – 22 hours, not including time in the airport.  On arrival we met Kevin’s buddy from Duke, Amay, and his driver, who took us across the Sea Link to Amay’s apartment.  After unloading our stuff and grabbing a quick refreshment, Amay took us on a little driving tour of the city. In quick succession we saw: the most expensive residence in the world, the Gateway to India, the Victoria Terminus, a mosque perched on a small rock out in the bay connected to land by only a narrow causeway, and Amay’s old school – where my friend Parth had gone before Sevenoaks.  We then stopped off for a beer at a pub in the old town where, following our tradition of sticking to local drinks during each leg of our trip, we all shared a pitcher of Kingfisher.  We thought it was interesting that we weren’t carded for the drinks, but when Theo wanted to get on the WiFi they made a copy of his driver’s license and made him sign a logbook.

After the pub, we headed over to the Oberoi, which houses restaurants much frequented by Amay and his family. Before sitting down for our meal, we were treated to a wine tasting.  One of the reds caught my eye – it came from the Rust en Vrede winery in Stellenbosch, South Africa.  I had visited this vineyard when I lived out in Cape Town whilst working for SAEP. Tasting their Cabernet Sauvignon in Mumbai, I was reminded of how good their wine can be, and made a note to ensure that we visit them during our South Africa leg.

Following the wine tasting, we sat down at the Oberoi’s Italian restaurant where, after a sampler platter starter, Theo and I each enjoyed an absolutely massive Osso Buco. I can’t remember what Kevin and Amay ordered, so good was my meal (we’ve been truly spoiled for food on this trip). Somehow we managed to squeeze in some fresh Alphonso Mangos for desert, before retiring for cocktails – 18 degree chilled cognac followed by espresso martinis to be precise. Both the cocktails and conversation were very enjoyable, though between our lack of sleep in Khao San the previous night, and the osso buco induced food coma, I was very much ready for bed (after a night cap of course) when we returned home.

Day 2

We were woken in the morning by heavy rain, the first spatterings of the oncoming monsoon season.  This day marked the halfway point (timewise) in our Around the World travels, and it was humbling to think of all the places we’d seen and new friends we’d made so far.  We joined Amay’s parents on the balcony overlooking the water for a coffee, before being treated to some authentic Maharashtran cuisine that Amay’s mother had put together for breakfast.

Amay then took us on another little driving tour, stopping at a small public park set on a hill affording a nice view out over Old Bombay, before heading towards the laundry district.  First, however, we had to navigate the inevitable jams and chaos that is Indian traffic.  On this occasion the blame for the disruption should probably be laid at the feet of the traffic cop on duty at a crucial intersection, who was too busy texting on his phone to really pay attention to which lanes he should keep moving. As we crawled slowly through the bottleneck, accompanied by a cacophony of screeching horns, Amay pointed out several buildings that had been halted mid construction, and had remained that way for years.  Apparently one of the many bureaucratic problems encountered in Mumbai, is that the government often approves a project, before later finding fault with it and blocking further development. Add to this arcane land use rules which mean that in much of the city the ratio of a new building’s floor space to the plot it is built on is set at a maximum of 1.3 times (this in a limited land mass city); poor infrastructure; rules inhibiting construction near the coast; endemic corruption, and the craziness of Mumbai real estate starts to make more sense.  To make matters worse, banks cannot fund land purchases in Mumbai, meaning Developers finance construction by making customers pay upfront without redress if the project stalls. If builders are worried about end user demand, or run out of financing, they can halt construction, having already taken in the customers’ cash – no doubt contributing to the number of stalled developments that we spotted. There’s no denying the economic potential of India’s huge population, with its many university graduates. But both in Mumbai, and later in Delhi there were many experiences that gave us pause for thought and made it hard to get too carried away with Indian “BRIC” optimism.

Finally we arrived at the laundry district of Dhobi Ghat – a slum with hundreds of laundry lines set up over concrete baths each of which was occupied by a washerman beating the dirt out of a pile of clothes (it had just rained, so the picture above doesn’t quite capture the full effect of the hanging laundry). This was our first real indication of the wealth disparity in this city, in which the average Indian would have to work for over 310 years to afford a 100 square metre residence in prime Mumbai.  Just minutes from the laundry district, we entered a high-end mall boasting the latest in designer goods, confirming not only the level, but the proximity of the huge degree of inequality within Mumbai.  We again tried some Maharashtran cuisine for lunch at Bombay Blues (no relation to the bar we visited in Bangkok).  Then, after bidding goodbye to Amay, we headed back out to the airport (less than 24 hours after arriving in Mumbai) to head out to Delhi.

Around the World Part 4: Thailand (Days 6-8)

Day 6

We had heard that, similar to Hong Kong, Bangkok is home to reasonably priced good quality tailoring.  We had already bought a shirt each at Sam’s in HK, so we visited Raja’s Fashions next to Nana Plaza on Simon’s recommendation to pick up a few more (and some trousers). Raja’s has a similar set up to Sam’s with photographs and letters from visiting dignitaries on each wall. After chalking our chosen fabrics, consuming the complimentary beer (forgetting that it was still morning) and being measured by Bobby, the garrulous son of the eponymous Raja, we were on our way.

The rest of the day we designated to doing something a little more cultural, given that we had not yet seen the historical sights of Bangkok after a few days of sailing and golf. We drove first to the Grand Palace. Inside the white walls, and after donning a pair of complimentary extra large sweatpants, since shorts are forbidden we were greeted by a sea of glittering colours and shimmering surfaces. The various Buddhist monuments and temples near the tourist entrance to the complex are either coated in gold leaf, roofed in coloured ceramic or embedded with glass and mirrors. In the sunlight it was almost overwhelming, and all very impressive.  We spent a good couple of hours wandering around the various buildings, and visiting the museum of the Emerald Buddha which contained historical artifacts from across Thailand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the Grand Palace, Muen took us to Wat Pho – had we known the way we could have walked, as it’s practically right next door to the Palace complex.  Wat Pho is famous for its statue of the reclining Buddha.  The statue’s renown is well deserved.  The staggeringly massive Buddha is over 50 metres long, gleaming golden all over apart from the black soles of his feet which are intricately inlaid with mother of pearl. After exploring the rest of Wat Pho, with it’s many corners and statues, we headed back home.  As it turns out or timing was impeccable as no sooner had we gotten in the car did the heavens open.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We had another lovely dinner at home with Simon, Charlie, and Spencer; Ahm had gone out to see some friends to celebrate her birthday a day early.  Later that evening, with Spencer having convinced his parents to let him skip school the following day (shh!)  we all headed out to Khao San road in the backpackers’ district. Being a Wednesday night, it was fairly quiet compared to the heavy traffic the road sees on more popular nights.  Nevertheless it was fun to get a feel for the place, with market stalls selling cheap clothing (I bought a Singh Thai Beer t-shirt) set up in front of bars, shisha joints and clubs.  After I had lost successive thumb wrestling wagers to a little ten year old who is out each night selling roses to would be Romeos – I’m not sure which earns him more, the roses or the tumb-wrestle sharking – we headed down a back alley short cut to one of Spencer’s favourite hangouts: Bombay Blue’s.  Bombay Blue’s is a two story Shisha (Hookah) bar, the inside of which is adorned with light red drapes and curtains, and traditional low cushioned bench seats on which we all lounged for a good while.

Day 7

Amongst the many things for which Thailand is famous is its Silk.  The modern Thai Silk Industry owes its origin in no small part to Jim Thompson, an American OSS operative who moved to Thailand and created Jim Thompson Silks, a company that made him a wealthy and influential industrialist. His death in particular is riddled with intrigue – he disappeared mysteriously in Malaysia at the age of 61 with no trace, and during his time in Asia he may or may not have continued to work for the CIA. The wealth from his silk company allowed him to create a beautiful abode for himself on a canal in central Bangkok, constructed from traditional Thai teak houses that he had moved from the countryside and reassembled. The house was interesting, not only for its Teak construction, but for the many antiques and paintings (done on cotton so difficult to preserve) which he had collected.  We were told that traditionally it is unlucky to have broken relics in the house, so he was practically gifted many damaged and valuable antiques from his Thai friends.

After another Gai Phad Kra Prow at the restaurant overlooking one of Jim Thompson’s fish ponds and gardens we wandered around the nearby malls.  These ranged from the upscale Siam Paragon with its Orchid displays, to the slightly shadier MBK, one section of which is packed to the gills with imitation and knock off goods. After fighting off the temptation to pick up some fake Tod’s we headed back up on the skytrain to Raja’s for our second fitting (Kevin’s and Theo’s were great, my trousers were a little tight).

Two friends of mine from Carolina, Andrew and Josh were in town, having just returned from the Full Moon Party.  We all managed to catch up for a beer and exchange travel stories for an hour or so.  It was really good to hear about their experiences, and it’s a nice thought that our friends are a mobile enough bunch that we are able to cross paths half way around the world from Carolina.

Ahm was celebrating her birthday in the evening at a French restaurant not far from the house, and she kindly invited us to join the family for the birthday meal – which, perhaps needless to say, was absolutely wonderful.  Ahm and Theo both had a steak tartar that was prepared at the table, and was (I’m sure Theo would agree) probably the best tartar I’ve seen anywhere, Paris included.

After the dinner, we headed out to Soi 11, where we had a few drinks at Cheap Charlie’s.  Cheap Charlie’s seems to be somewhat of a Bangkok institution, and is essentially a small shack on a street corner with some seating outside.  When you wrestle your way to the counter for a drink, you can see model trains on tracks chugging along overhead, while the walls are hung with all sorts of baubles and random decorations. We then stopped by Zanzibar to catch some live music before heading back home.

Day 8 – 9

On our last day in Thailand we decided to head up to the Teak Palace.  After trying a few taxis (our pronunciation wasn’t good enough for us to be easily understood it seems), we made our way into the vicinity.  We had to get off early, however, as the roads surrounding the palace compound were all blocked by barricades and dozens of policemen on each corner. The driver assured us that the entrance was just down the street, so we threaded through the first road block and set off in search of a ticket office.  This search turned out to be in vain, as upon reaching the end of the road we found ourselves behind yet another police cordon, except this time the other side of the street was filled with chanting red shirts (a political faction) half of whom seemed to have a loudspeaker. Nervously eyeing the crowd suppressing water cannons lined up on one side of the road, we decided to give Thai politicking a miss and headed towards the river.

After a false lead, in which we located a dock for a garbage boat, we eventually found a jetty for the river taxi.  Since we had made it pretty far north into the city, we decided to take a boat trip down the river, thinking it would be a good way to see Bangkok from a different perspective. After a very enjoyable sight seeing trip on the water, which was teeming with boats of all descriptions, we arrived at the Oriental pier, just down from the Mandarin Oriental hotel.  Unfortunately we were a little late for the buffet at Lord Jim’s restaurant, so we settled for lunch on the riverside terrace.  Unsurprisingly I ordered Gai Phad Kra Prow again, but what truly stood out was the desert of chilled fresh coconut milk (served in the coconut) with water chestnut pearls and ice cream – which was absolutely amazing.

Following the lunch we headed over to Raja’s to pick up our finished clothes (I’ll have to be careful not to get too much bigger, whether in the gym or at Shake Shack).  Returning home we were treated to yet another fantastic meal.  This time we were greeted with a platter of the mouthwatering sashimi, which included the largest, juiciest, scallop medallions imaginable. After dinner we said goodbye to Simon, Ahm, and Spencer.  Since we had an early flight, with a 4 am taxi pickup, we decided that we’d just go out (following Charlie to Khao San Road again) and eschew sleep until we made it onto the plane.  After our goodbyes, in which we were unable to convey just how grateful we were for all of Simon and Ahm’s generosity and hospitality, we spent an… uneventful… night’s clubbing before making it back just in time for the taxi.

After a slight hiccup at the airport, in which we discovered that our travel agent had failed to book Kevin a seat on the plane, we were headed off to Mumbai, India.

Around the World Part 4: Thailand (Day 5)

On our fifth day in Thailand, we drove back into Bangkok, passing the Silverlake vineyards and a giant golden image of the Lord Buddha etched into a cliff face nearby.

Arriving back at midday or so, Kevin, Theo and I went with Simon to the Royal Bangkok Sports Club for another round of golf. The RBSC boasts an 18 hole course jigsawed into the centre of a horseracing track, surrounded by modern hotels and soaring office building. Imagine a beautifully maintained set of holes, bunkers and lakes in a setting similar, though smaller than, Central Park and you’ll have some idea.  Before heading out on the course we had a quick meal and Simon introduced us to Gai Phad Kra Prow (I’m probably transliterating horribly). This delicious dish consisted of rice, spices, fried basil leaves, chicken and a fried egg and became my standard order for lunch for the duration of our stay in Thailand, not only because of its taste but because it was about the only plate whose Thai name I remembered.

 

Similarly to the caddies at the Emerald, all the Thais were well covered from the sun’s rays at the RBSC.  In addition to the caddies, our party had a spotter of sorts, whose job was to go out ahead and signal as to the kind of surface each ball landed on (for betting purposes). Perhaps more usefully, for our purposes, he was also an expert ball retriever, diving into the water hazards to retrieve the many balls that I seemed to drop in every other water hazard. I had hoped that the warm up round at the Emerald would ease me into a good round at RBSC…  after an incredibly refreshing fresh coconut drink to reset half way through, my back nine turned out better than the first … and we’ll leave it at that. The setting for the course and the company of players, however, were such that I couldn’t help but enjoy myself, no matter how any duff shots I had.

After our round Simon had to leave us to introduce a prospective member to the RBSC, and so after a quick shower at home we went to meet Charlie for dinner. We caught up with him at Terminal 21, a new shopping mall just across the street from Soi Cowboy.  Elsewhere in the world this kind of juxtaposition within such proximity might seem odd, but in Bangkok it’s almost expected.  Each floor in Terminal 21 is named for a different international city, and we all grabbed a dinner of a Japanese soup in which you cooked vegetables and meat at your own table up on San Francisco. Following the dinner we decided to catch a movie upstairs (unsurprisingly this floor was called Hollywood). After much debate over the merits of Pirhana 3DD and Snow White and the Huntsman, we settled on the latter. Before the feature, we were treated to a montage of the King with images and videos showing him in his childhood, adolescence and various official capacities.  Everyone in the theatre stood for the montage, much as Americans stand for the national anthem before each and every sporting event in the States. Across Thailand there seemed to be a real and deep reverence for the Royal family, and yellow flags sporting the Royal insignia were always in view, seemingly spaced nearly once every ten metres all the way to Pattaya.

Around the World Part 4: Thailand

Day 1

A pattern on our trip has been the generosity of friends, who have taken us into their homes at various stops.  We benefitted from the Frelinghuysens in Maui, the Wallis’ in Hong Kong, and in Thailand we were looked after by my Godfather, Simon, and his family. Upon arrival at Bangkok’s airport, we were greeted by his driver P’Muen who took us to their house right in the centre of Bangkok just across from the US embassy.  I haven’t had the chance to see much of Simon, and hadn’t seen his wife Ahm, and kids Charlie and Spencer in over ten years, so it has been a real treat spending time with them.  After arriving at Simon and Ahm’s we were treated to some fantastic Thai food.  After a coffee to rally some energy, we decided to go out the first night, as Simon insisted we had to at least see Soi Cowboy.  For those of you who haven’t seen “The Hangover II”, Soi Cowboy is a smallish sidestreet just off from the Asok skytrain stop.  All the way down on either side, overhanging neon signs compete for attention, whilst below scantily clad girls do the same – grabbing for your wrists in an attempt to drag you into their respective Gogo bars. We decided to sit outside, watch the people pass and play the “spot the lady boy game” (Soi Cowboy is one of the areas in which Thailand’s infamous Kathoeys, or ladyboys, are more visible).

Days 2 – 4

Our week in Thailand was split into two chunks, the latter half we spent back in Bangkok, but on the morning of our second day we all drove down to the Hirst’s place in Bang Saray just south of Pattaya.  The drive itself was relatively short, and we arrived after an easy two hours in the car – stopping first at the Royal Varuna Yacht Club, on the other side of the bay from Bang Saray. We then spent a leisurely afternoon sampling some more delicious Thai cuisine (we made Spencer order for us), before all going out on some dinghies for a sail.  Theo hopped on Simon’s catamaran, while Kevin and I took out some RS variant, which despite it’s relatively deep draft and heavy hull compared to some of the racing skiffs, proved to be a capable little boat and provided for a very enjoyable afternoon on the water.

That evening, we all went to a local seafood restaurant, set on a large platform that jutted out over the water.  To get to our table we walked through a row of large tanks containing all manner of fish, mussels, oysters and crabs.  We then proceeded to gorge on a smorgasbord of absolutely magnificent freshly prepared seafood – though I couldn’t tell you the names of the dishes (again we deferred to local knowledge and let the Hirsts order for us).

After dinner we persuaded Charlie, the Hirst’s eldest, to take us, (and Ahm’s nephew’s friend, Peter), out in Pattaya.  This he did, despite having just returned from a week of post IB celebrations in Koh Samui. Throughout our trip Charlie was spectacularly patient and willing to spend time showing us around in the evenings – having a local with us (even if just to make sure the taxies took us to the right places) was extremely useful, and we are incredibly grateful that he so gamely put up with us.  Pattaya is home to Walking Street, which is essentially Soi Cowboy on steroids, and judging by the language on the ubiquitous neon signs seems to be particularly popular with Russians and Arabs.  Here we posted up at a bar opposite a Muay Thai boxing ring to watch the madness of Walking Street nightlife unfold before us. Later that evening we made sure to stop by the Arab quarter to have a late night Kebab before driving back to Bang Saray with P’Muen.

The following day we headed out to the Emerald Golf course, nestled beneath the steep hills at the bottom of the Thai Bite. After a quick lunch, we split into two groups, with the boys and Ahm going ahead, while Simon stayed and walked with us creating a foursome. On the course, we were accompanied by a team of caddies all wearing canary yellow. In addition to their long sleeved outfits and caps with fitted neck shields, a couple sported gloves and used towels to cover most of their face.  The reason, we were told, was that paleness is prized as beautiful in many parts of Asia (we later would see advertisements promoting “skin whitening cream” not just in Bangkok, but also in India), and the caddies were trying to limit the Sun’s melatonin building impact. It would take one of the accountants on Arthur Anderson’s Enron team to make my score look good, with good holes (even a few pars) marred by a series of mini collapses. The same I’m sure the others would agree, could be said of all of us but Simon, who’s game demonstrated the benefit of being able to get in lots of practice over the years and made us all a little jealous that we will be starting work in NYC and not Thailand.  Thankfully he had the patience to deal with our pace of play, and we all had a lovely day on the course, before returning to the same amazing seafood restaurant that we had patronized the day before.

Our last day by the seaside was a public holiday in Thailand.  We decided to take it easy, returning to the yacht club to play cards, read by the sea (or in my case catch up on my frequently delayed blogging).  That evening we went out to the restaurant attached to the Silverlake vineyards for an Italian meal.  By the time we arrived, it was dark, but we could barely make out the rows of vines. Simon suspects that grapes hanging from them might be fakes, and that the wine supposedly produced here is a rebranded Chilean or similar variety.  However, the public holiday in commemoration of the Lord Buddha meant that we were not able to order drinks, so weren’t able to try this ‘Thai’ wine.

Around the World Part 3 Continued: Beijing (days 3 and 4)

Day 3

The Great Wall – one of the wonders of the world and deservedly so!

We had organized to get driven out nearly two hours from Beijing to the “wild wall”, anxious to avoid the tourist fanfare and crowding at the more commonly visited Ba Da Ling Section.  The driver picked us up at 5 in the morning, and we stopped off at various hotels and hostels, picking up nine other travellers before heading out of the city.  Our guide for the day called himself Jackie, and was extremely enthusiastic (especially given the early wake up).  He gave us a history of Beijing, the Wall and different historical sights on the drive out past the Ming graves towards the section of the wall that we were to hike, and despite everything being either “interesting”, “very nice” or both, we learned a great deal.

After a two hour or so drive, we found ourselves near a dammed lake just below one of the old soldiers’ compounds turned farmers’ houses at the foot of a mountainous ridge – on top of which stood the Great Wall.  Walking parallel to this ridge we hiked up a path for twenty minutes, eventually intercepting the Wall as it turned left towards us.  We climbed up the steep staircase through an open gate, past a sign declaring the area closed to tourists, and found ourselves (alone save for one elderly local) on top of the Wall itself, at the bottom of a valley section, with white stone ascending the two slopes to either side forming a steep V shape.  Even from this low vantage point, the audacity of the project, and the sheer determination it must have taken became obvious.  The wall stretched as far as the eye could see, but stuck doggedly to the steepest ridgeline, winding back and forth, in places almost doubling up on itself, across impossibly thin peak tops and up seemingly vertical inclines.

At this point I should mention Theo and Kevin’s attire.  As I mentioned in the Hawaii update, I’m travelling with two Dukies.  We had made a bet back in February regarding the outcome of the basketball game in Cameron Indoor.  Naturally the Heels dominated, and Kevin and Theo’s penance was to wear Carolina blue on the Great Wall.  I had been looking forward to this sweet victory for a long time, and had even gone so far as to buy a special Carolina Blue Lehigh (or Le High) shirt for Kevin, just to ensure that the ignominious loss in the NCAA tournament to a #15 seed would be immortalized forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Wild wall hasn’t been repaired, restored, or sanitized; yet (in this section at least) it’s still in remarkable condition.  In many places it appears as if it could have been built in the last twenty years. We began our ascent, pausing at each successive guard tower to wonder at the view – becoming increasingly incredulous as the increased height revealed yet another snaking section of white stone atop yet another ridge.  The scenery itself is gorgeous, but complimented by the Wall and the knowledge that the complex extends 5000 miles inland from the sea the experience marks the jawdropping vistas indelibly into the minds eye. They say that each foot of wall cost one human life, or lifetime. It’s an incredible feat of engineering; at times we had to climb down smooth topped sections at over seventy degree inclines.  We could not imagine how the soldiers patrolling the wall could have managed – especially in a cold winter with frost slicking the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eventually we came almost full circle back to the top of the lake, and we climbed off the wall and down to a local farmhouse cum hostel. In the shadow of the mountains and the Wall we enjoyed a lunch of local food, and enjoyed the opportunity to share travel stories with the rest of our group (one Canadian, two Germans, two Spaniards, two Singaporean and an American).

Chairman Mao allegedly claimed that:

“he who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man”.

A little sweeping perhaps, but nevertheless, safely assured of our manhoods we returned back to Beijing, feeling incredibly lucky that we had seen a true wonder of the world, and had the opportunity to take our time enjoying it all to ourselves, without the crush of visitors that had until this point seemed inevitable in Beijing.

Day 4

We decided to spend our last day in Beijing at the Summer Palace.  The Summer Palace is situated on, Longevity Hill, a 200 ft rise that looks out over the expansive park surrounding Kunming lake.  We spent much of the morning walking around to the various islands, causeways, bridges and pools on the opposite side of the lake to the palace complex.  We had each bought some Great Wall postcards, and so sat down to write our correspondence,  glancing up to watch some local dancers and musicians practicing on a lawn under some willow trees.  In the afternoon we went around the palace buildings, up to the tower of Buddhist Incense – with it’s impressively steep staircases leading up to the top of the hill.  Unfortunately much of the palace had been destroyed by the Anglo-French forces in 1860 during the second opium war, and though rebuilt, lacked some of the grandeur of the structures in the Forbidden City.  Nevertheless it provided a full and interesting day’s exploration.

I didn’t actually take this one… but I haven’t uploaded the pictures from my camera yet

We had, however, at this point nearly run out of money, leaving only 60 Renminbi (yuan) for the taxi ride back.  This shouldn’t have been an issue, given that a metered cab would have cost 40 at most, however, predictably perhaps, no real taxi wanted to take us.  This made life rather difficult as we had trouble trying to explain that 60 was all we had to offer to the gypsy cab drivers who wanted 120 after haggling down. In the end we pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and, almost immediately a black market foreign exchange ring sprang up on the corner of the street, with different passersby offering different rates.  When we explained that it should be around 6.3 renminbi to the dollar a slightly seedy looking gentleman offered to go the other way and lift us, offering a $100 bill (fake from North Korea presumably) if we could secure renminbi (which of course we didn’t have).  Eventually we settled the matter and a driver agreed to take us for the twenty dollars.  It turned out to be well worth it for the experience.  He ushered us towards a black, heavily tinted sedan – much nicer than the other cars that were plying the gypsy cab trade, and proceeded to pull out into the traffic.  He picked what looked to be a mouthpiece for some kind of radio, and, hitting a button the car emitted siren like noises and flashing lights reflected back off the nearby car from inside the grill at the front of ours.  We couldn’t quite decide whether he was an off duty government driver trying to earn a little extra cash, or just a bit of a rebel, but either way the extra tools turned out to be a useful method for cutting through the logjam of Beijing traffic.  The driver himself seemed very excited when we explained that we would be living in New York, repeatedly emphasizing how much he liked the city and the Knicks (the Jeremy Lin effect perhaps?) – when he wasn’t busy telling us that日本 (Japanese) cars were rubbish.  Funnily enough one of the few phrases that I had remembered from my housemate’s Chinese lessons regarding the Japanese helped here…

After arriving back at the hotel, and making the accidental discovery that one of the service elevators would take you down below the hotel to an underground karaoke club, we packed our bags in preparation for an early flight to Bangkok, Thailand.

Around the World Part 3: Beijing (days 1 and 2)

Day 1

After transferring through Shanghai from Hong Kong we arrived in Beijing in the early afternoon. As soon as we stepped outside to get a cab we were hit by a wave of heat and acrid smog.  The pollution in Beijing is infamous, and whatever quality controls that were put in place for the Olympics must have since subsided.  The driver kept the windows down to battle the heat, meaning that by the time we arrived at the hotel, our eyes were a little red, and throats a little sore – we imagined it must have been akin to the “pea soup” days in London.  The drive afforded us a good panorama of the city suburbs, as the hotel was on the opposite side of the metropolis to the airport. We never saw the horizon (due to smog), which may have added to the effect, but the sprawl was amazing. The buildings weren’t tall and slender, as in Hong Kong, but were nevertheless sizeable.  Most seemed to be fairly recent constructs, built for functionality rather than elegance, creating a somewhat monotonous similarity which added even further to the impression of indefinite sprawl.

We checked into our hotel (a Holiday Inn) in the southwestern business district, surrounded by various government interests including the State Administration for Taxation Office.   Rather than hang around with the off duty tax accountants we caught a cab to Tiananmen Square.  We hadn’t thought to account for the inevitable rush hour traffic, which turned the ten-minute journey into a forty-five.  We finally arrived at Tiananmen, and were dropped off in front of the famous red gate guarding the entrance to the forbidden palace, with Mao’s portrait gazing out across the square towards his Mausoleum.  The square itself is a massive expanse – designed to echo the power of the State and the enormity of China.  It’s hard not to compare it to Red Square in Moscow, in the shadow of the old imperial palace with the embalmed body of the revolutionary leader displayed so that pilgrims might pay homage.

Above: Theo, Mao and I gazing across towards Tiananmen square, the revolutionary murals, Mao’s Mausoleum, and the Southern Gates:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We wandered south, down through the square, stopping to admire the murals of the revolution and the old inner city gates before arriving at Qianmen street. Throughout our stay in Beijing we were continually trying to puzzle out what different Chinese characters might mean – by this time we were pretty sure we had worked out “Beijing”, “China” and “Nation”, and we added “gate” to the list (we think it’s the ‘men’ in Tiananmen and Qianmen).  It looks somewhat like an i with the dot falling off to the right, with a backwards capital greek Gamma creating the effect of a three sided square. We could well be wrong on this, but the symbol was very common in place names, giving some idea as to the extent of the old city walls that circled the city in successive rings (bulldozed during the cultural revolution).  Qianmen street is mocked up to look like old Beijing might have, but it is betrayed by the gaudy neon lights and is replete with promoters standing outside with megaphones trying to usher you into their respective stores or restaurants.  By this time we were hungry, but decided we wanted something a little less commercial and tourist oriented than the offerings on Qianmen itself, so we turned down successive alleys until we found somewhere that seemed popular with the locals.   With much pointing and guesswork, and despite several power outages (from overloaded sockets) that delayed the process, we ended up having a very good first Chinese meal on the mainland.

The alleys off of Qianmen street:

Kevin and Theo getting ready for their foot massages

Getting back to the hotel proved a little difficult – we tried for twenty minutes to hail a cab, but to no avail.  It was not for lack of open taxis, which were continually being snapped up by locals.  Often the taxi drivers would catch our eye and just keep driving.  This difficulty was to be a recurring theme, and a guide we had later in the trip chalked it down to a recent upswing in xenophobia and suspicion of foreigners – in fact when he tried to hail us a taxi at a later date he asked us to stand around the corner in order to make it easier.  Feeling quite dejected from our failure to secure transportation (we would have taken the subway, but there was no stop convenient to the hotel), we decided to stop off and get a foot massage.  This, we thought, was probably a good idea given that we had booked a trip to the Great Wall and were planning to spend the next day walking all around the Forbidden Palace, and wanted our feet to be well prepared.  After 45 minutes of feeling very silly, but with very relaxed feet,  we grudgingly decided that a gypsy cab would have to do… the only issue being that, despite having handed him a map, and written directions in Chinese, deciding halfway to the hotel that he couldn’t find it, he pulled over and dropped us off with a shrug and a “sorry”.  Irritatingly we knew that he could find the hotel if he’d bothered – it’s a tall building with a large neon Holiday Inn sign on top that was clearly visible, despite our being blocks away that we had kept pointing to (and then showing him the same sign market on the map).  Having navigate the streets using the bright neon “H” as our north star, we well and truly worn out after our day of travel and ready for bed.

Day 2

We woke up early and went down to make the most of the buffet breakfast at the hotel.  Our primary objective for  the Beijing stop was to see some of the wonders of ancient China, and we had decided to dedicate the second day to the Forbidden Palace.  Having asked the doorman to hail us a cab (wary after our experience the previous night) we headed first to Jingshan park, adjacent to the palace moat to the North of the Forbidden City. The park is centered around a nearly 50m high artificial wall that was created using the earth from the moat surrounding the Imperial palace.  Beijing itself is a flat expanse, and since Feng Shui proposes that houses should be built to the south of a hill (which gives practical protection from the cold northerly winds), the hill was manufactured.  We hiked up to the central pavilion at the top of the hill in order to look out over the Forbidden city, passing by elderly Beijingers practicing Tai Chi, singing the revolutionary songs of their youth, and synchronized dancing, whilst trying to balance a ball on what resembled a large table tennis bat with a shallow concave face to provide some nesting for the ball. Despite the smog, the southern view from the pavilion is awesome, the roofs of the palace create a golden sea, and the city’s central axis stretches in a perfect line from the Golden Buddha in the pavilion who gazes down upon the palace gates, the main Palace halls, Mao’s mausoleum and the southern gates by Qianmen where we had been the night before.

Riot shields at the ready… just in case

Because of the massive numbers of tourists visiting the Forbidden City, the flow of visitors is regulated such that the only entrance is through the southern gate, and the exit is to the north, so we made our way down, and got a ride to the southern gate (we rode because the scale of the place is enormous – at 7.8 Million square feet).  Having entered the complex, we first went up to the top of Tiananmen gate itself, which affords a panoramic view of the square, from the balcony upon which party leaders watch parades and processions. We then picked up a rather nifty audio guide, which has a map dotted with LEDs on the back.  The lights flash showing you your current location, and locations not-yet visited are illuminated.  The audio is set to tell you about the history of whatever your current surroundings might be.  It’s hard to describe the palace in terms that do it’s enormity justice here.

Walking on the Emperor’s Marble Path

One of many thrones in the complex

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The whole complex was built between 1416 and 1420 and has 9,999 rooms. The buildings are all fairly similar in style, with animals on the corners of the roof donating each building’s relative importance (11 animals being the most important).  Along the central axis are the main palaces, joined by a ribbon of white marble upon which only the emperor could walk, with the living quarters, gardens and theatre to the Northern end.  On the Eastern side another set of buildings replicate the layout of the main complex, and was used by the crown Prince and various Empress dowagers, including the famous late Qing Empress Cixi. The scale of the Forbidden city is such that we spent nearly six hours walking through to different buildings and admiring the many treasures on display.

Having finally arrived at the Northern end, through the imperial gardens that inspired the poetry of many an Emperor, Theo and I decided to buy some artwork as a memento of our travels.  We got an ink drawing of six horses (probably overpriced) with horses symbolizing luck and prosperity and six being, we are told, an auspicious number… unlike four, the Chinese equivalent of 13 – there was no fourth floor in the hotel).  Perhaps the painting will bring us each luck, something that we could use in healthy doses at work in NY next year.

After over six hours traipsing around the palace we tried again, in vain, to hail a cab.  We tried this all the way down the long axis of the forbidden palace, and then again past the congress (whose parking lot seemed to be exclusively packed with black Audi A8L’s ), down the long side of Tiananmen square, and back to Qianmen street. With this extra distance adding to the many miles trod traipsing around the Forbidden City, we were quite ready for bed and the early wake up to get to the Great Wall and so settled again for a gypsy cab (which actually managed to find the hotel, to our relief).  On the way we noticed the workers cleaning the opera house – without harnesses … evidently the health and safety standards a little different here:

Part 2: Hong Kong

Apologies for the delay with this one, we couldn’t post from China as my blog was censored…

Day 1

We landed in Hong Kong late on the 25^th and cleared security right at midnight.  The total journey time from Theo’s in Maui had been over 24 hours, with layovers in both Honolulu and Tokyo (where the toilets talk to you… seriously).  Like most everything in HK, the airport was extremely efficient, and we soon found ourselves in a taxi headed from Lantau Island towards Hong Kong proper, where we stayed the night at the Traders Hotel on Kings Road.

Despite the long journey the previous day, we were eager to make the most of our short visit, and so got up early. Luckily our friends the Allners had put us in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Wallis, good friends of theirs who had kindly offered to welcome us into their home.  This kindness made our visit – transforming what would undoubtedly have been an interesting weekend in a new city into a magnificent experience, which gave us a really good panorama of Hong Kong.  We really could not have been introduced to a lovelier couple, and are all extremely grateful for their hospitality.

 

Jane and Malcolm Wallis live at the top of the Peak, a line of steep hills from which you can look out North across the harbour towards Kowloon on one side, and South to the southern islands on the other (when the clouds aren’t enveloping the summit that is).  The urban centre of Hong Kong quickly gives way to a verdant jungle as the road winds up to Peak, affording great views of the soaring skyscrapers on the water’s edge. We are struck immediately at the audacity of the construction: every building seems to scrape the clouds, and everywhere you look there’s a new tower being developed. Each of these projects seems destined to be taller and skinnier than the last, and intricate lattices of bamboo scaffolding juxtapose with the steel and glass behemoths as they rise.

Below: the view from Jane and Malcolm’s

 

After Malcolm and Jane gave us some suggestions, we caught a bus back down to the city centre.  Naturally the heavens opened as soon as the bus pulled up, so we took shelter for a few minutes beneath the HSBC building, right next to Hong Kong’s occupy protests, with the same generic tents and white boards that had dominated the news cycle for a few weeks in other financial centers around the world – we suspected that the nicer climate and shelter from the rain (ironically provided by the bank above them) had aided this particular offshoot’s physical longevity. There are many remarkable buildings in Hong Kong, but we found two on this side of the water particularly interesting.  The first we had noticed lit up at night, on our drive in from the airport: the Bank of China building, an elegance of triangles imagined by the great I. M. Pei. The second, which we had noticed on the bus ride down, and then stood under to shelter from the rain was the HSBC Building created in the 1980’s by Sir Norman Foster. It is an unusual structure, that looks ready to take off at any moment – and in a manner of speaking, it is.  With the risk that the handover to the Chinese might turn sour, the building was created in five units, and could be dismantled and shipped away if necessary.  HSBC is guaranteed a view of the harbour by the Hong Kong government, providing them not only with nice water views, but also, an escape route.  Fortunately there hasn’t been cause to ship the headquarters off, but the scars of previous turmoil were evident in the shrapnel wounds sustained by the two HSBC lions at the mouth of its underbelly from the Japanese invasion in WWII.

Below: The HSBC building with the BOC Tower two to the left – some say that it looks like a meat cleaver directed at HSBC:

The energy in Hong Kong is palpable.  We saw evidence of this as soon as we arrived – our taxi driver had no less than six mobile phones mounted on his dashboard, and seemed to be continually involved in at least three conversations at the same time (a feat accomplished through a balance of three headsets, and speaker phones). You don’t so much see evidence of this energy as feel it – I suppose it’s appropriate for a city that embodies the commercial spirit.  The number of luxury goods stores (and the number of clients they each seem to bring in) is staggering.  Strangely the vibrancy isn’t jarring after our relaxing break in a quiet corner of Maui, and we all rather enjoyed the buzz and excitement.  Our first order of business was to head to Kowloon the check out Sam’s Tailors.  After somewhat successfully dodging the rain, by running through several connected shopping centres and hotel lobbies, we took the MTR to the other side of the water. There are plenty of tailor’s littering the streets, and Sam’s like many of the others, is a cramped space, hidden from the main street, and advertised by an old, bright yellow sign. I’m not sure Sam’s is really any better than the other shops, but he seems to have a genius for self promotion, despite the unpretentious store front the walls are adorned with pictures of celebrities being fitted, including HRH Prince Charles, George Bush, and Michael Jackson.  For 390 HKD (~ 50 USD) you can have a shirt custom fitted, with your choice of collar, cuffs and fabrics. After being handed our complimentary beer, and being measured, we set about choosing fabrics for our shirt.  They keep the measurements on file – so we’ll see how they turn out, and maybe one day when I can afford to get more I’ll reorder.  Mrs. Wallis very kindly offered to pick the shirts up from Sam’s for us and bring them to the UK next time she comes – another of the many kindnesses the Wallis’ showed us.

Below: A view of Hong Kong from the base of the ICC in Kowloon:

Having ticked the get-a-tailored-shirt-in-HK box, we headed back across the water to have a wander.  In particular we wanted to check out the raised elevator in the SoHo area, which we found after a nice stroll through a small, densely foliaged, park behind the old court of final appeal.  The elevator allows you to easily ascend the hill and overlook the SoHo area, which is packed with bars, restaurants and shops. As would be expected it is very busy, but interestingly, the energy isn’t reflected in the stride of the people.  In New York people elbow each other out the way on the pavement in a rush to get wherever it is they’re going – dawdling tourists are avoided or bowled over.  In Hong Kong there is less of this aggressive rush.

 

A break in the clouds prompted us to go back up the Peak in order to enjoy the view over the city.  It was lucky we went back when we did, because this would turn out to be the only sustained clear patch at the top of the Peak for the duration of our stay. We later returned to the SoHo area, after Mr. Wallis got us a reservation at a restaurant, Soho spice.  After a very nice (and reasonably priced – a rare find in HK it seems) meal, we stuck around to check out the nightlife.  Lan Kwai Fong is famous for its clubs and bars, and there was a heavy expat/ tourist presence.  The main area is made up of four roads forming a square, with live music and crowds spilling out onto the pedestrianized roads from all sides. This created a carnival-esque atmosphere, and we enjoyed bouncing from bar to bar.  Kevin ran into a friend of his, Troy, from Duke as we rounded the corner – it’s a small world, but HK just seems like one of those places where you’re bound to run into someone that you know. 

 

Day 2

On the morning of our second (and last) day we caught the number 6 bus from central to Stanley.  Stanley is a small village on the other (southern) side of Hong Kong island where the British and Canadians made their last stand against the Japanese invasion. The no.6 winds up over the mountains, providing great views from its upper deck on the 30 minute journey.  As we worked our way over the island, the continuation of the skyscrapers from central HK was staggering.  Hong Kong isn’t just tall in one area, it’s tall everywhere. Our journey took us past Happy Valley (with the race course and cricket club) and Repulse Bay before we arrived at Stanley. After touring through the market, we went out to see the old iron pier (that had been moved from Hong Kong harbour on the other side) and spent a good while in the maritime museum.  Since Hong Kong is a city that draws its lifeblood from maritime commerce, the museum was a great way to learn about the history of the city, as well as to gain a better understanding of the linkages between different regions in this corner of Asia and beyond.  We also had a peek inside the old Chinese Tin Hua temple :

In the afternoon we made our way back across to Kowloon for a bit of bar hoping.  At the top of the ICC is Ozone bar – the tallest bar in the world.  The ICC structure itself is very impressive, dwarfing the surrounding skyscrapers, and we couldn’t leave town without going up to the bar patio and looking back across the harbour.  To get there we road across on the Star Ferry – the same kind of ferry that’s been operating as a sort of horizontal elevator between the shores for 50 years. Luckily there were some breaks in the cloud, and we enjoyed the view (and an appropriate dose of vertigo).  We then moved onto the bar at Felix, at the top of the Peninsula hotel.  As far as bars go the Felix bar was much cooler (despite ozone’s claim to fame), and I had one of the best cocktails I’ve ever had – a blend of bacon infused bourbon, something chocolaty and I’m not sure what else. Our principal reason for going to the top of the Peninsula was to watch the light show – a daily occurrence in which many of the buildings on the Hong Kong island are lit up in syncopation with accompanying strobe and spot lights scratching the sky from their rooftops.  Honestly the show was a little underwhelming, but perhaps this was only because the skyline provides such a great view in and of itself.  After a good hour enjoying the view, we met up with Jane and Malcolm at the 1881 Heritage.  The Heritage building served as the old maritime police headquarters, and has a distinctive colonial feel, with arches, patios, fans and fountains, that contrast with the skyscraper forest around it.  Malcolm and Jane treated us to a great traditional Chinese food dinner at the top of the Heritage, which included, amongst others, a particularly good dish of pigeon. 

Below: The Heritage 1881 Building

 

This marked the end of our whistlestop tour of Hong Kong – we were off to Beijing the next morning with a 4.50am wakeup.