So Good They Named It Twice

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Yes, it’s finally time I wrote about my favourite city in the world. The Big Apple. The Empire State. The City That Never Sleeps! The place that’s so good they named it twice…

This is New York, the concrete jungle where – according to those great poets of our age – dreams are made. Well, I wholeheartedly agree with Mister Beyoncé. This is a city that takes hold of you from the moment you enter, craning in awe at the sublimely impressive skyline, and refuses to let go. And it lingers in the mind long after you’re back in low-rise suburbia. This is a city of contrasts – glitz and grit; light and dark; manicured and defaced; arrogant and humble; unknowable and intimate; incredibly big and yet, in many ways, incredibly small. This is a city where you can put down roots in distinct communities or can lose yourself in the bustle and energy of Manhattan. This is a city where you can immerse yourself completely in art and culture, haute cuisine and haute couture; experience stunning architecture and sights of great historical significance. Or you can sit with a beer (or blueberry lemonade, depending on your want) and people-watch contentedly for days on end. This is my home from home. Or, at least, it would be…if I had a spare half a million to buy a Brooklyn loft apartment.

Did I mention that I love it?

So, where to begin? At the start of October, I guess, which is when I embarked on my most recent trip across the Atlantic. This return to New York was a wonderful treat, initiated and financed by my (almost) mother-in-law, who turned 60 in July and who wanted to celebrate in style. Actually, it was a double-celebration, with my (almost) brother-in-law having turned 40 in the same year. When you have a combined age of 100, you deserve to make merry abroad!

So, after a seven-hour flight (don’t bother with Man of Steel, but do check out Alpha Papa), the five of us arrived in the Flatiron District and settled into our stunning apartment on Park Avenue, home of a nervous art dealer. Why nervous? Because Air BnB, the popular letting site we were using, had recently been getting a lot of publicity…what with it being illegal to sub-let in the state and all. This we learnt upon arrival, having not heard the fuss beforehand. Our host told us very clearly not to bring attention to ourselves or “hog the lift” (a pastime I reluctantly agreed to forgo)…but otherwise we proceeded to enjoy our stay without drama. If you’d like to sign an online petition against the state law, there are plenty to choose from!

The first morning saw three of our party embark on a helicopter ride over Manhattan: the aforementioned birthday girl’s belated present. Not having joined them myself, I can’t comment further, but all returned with big beams on their faces: job well done. Apparently the views of the skyscrapers, as you fly past Central Park, over the Hudson and up to Harlem are as spectacular as you’d imagine. Next, we enjoyed a sunny trip on the Staten Island ferry, skirting the Statue of Liberty (bigger than you think it’ll be) and snapping pictures of the soaring financial district behind us. This free excursion is a real must when you’re in the city and provides respite from the busy streets.

Having got our fill of the skyline (for now), and after an aborted attempt to push through the crowds, in what was now uncomfortable heat, to see the base of Freedom Tower (still surrounded by hoardings), we decided lunch was in order. Pizza, lobster rolls and burgers from South Street Seaport food market was just what we needed. It’s a great strip, in the midst of renovated warehouses, the old gangster haunts along the eastern waterfront. Plus, eating street food is so much cheaper than going indoors in New York! The afternoon then seemed to fly by, with short stops at St. Patrick’s cathedral and Grand Central Station being all we could manage to fit in. The latter is an incredible building – the largest commuter train terminal in the world, with a cavernous concourse, its famous meeting-point opal clock, Tiffany glass and astronomical ceiling. No wonder it’s repeatedly voted one of the premier visitor destinations in the States. I failed, unfortunately, to recreate the famous 1934 print, but could have stood looking at the light-strewn concourse for a long, long time.

We ate at Little Owl in Greenwich Village that evening. I’d heard great things about the restaurant and it’s consistently in the top five New York restaurants on TripAdvisor, so I was quite excited. It’s fair to say that not everyone was blown away by the food; it definitely depended on what you ordered. But the ambience and service made it a lovely experience nonetheless. And my food was delicious: their signature gravy sliders followed by whole seabass with lobster risotto. Yum, yum. Greenwich Village itself is a great place to go out on an evening, with lots of cool little bars, restaurants and jazz clubs. We ended up in one of the quintessential New York basement bars, the style of which has been appropriated by practically every new bar and restaurant to open in London in the last two years. Bare brick walls: tick. Shabby pendant lights: tick. Chipped, white metro tiles: tick. Lots of bequiffed 20-somethings drinking craft beer: tick. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a sucker for it. I’d happily always drink in such places…and in fact, as I describe it, I realise it’s pretty much how I plan to decorate our kitchen.

Day 2 saw our group go in different directions. Paul and I headed into Williamsburg, having turned green with envy on hearing tales from our friends Jennifer and Fred’s recent stay in this hip Brooklyn borough. We completely fell in love with the area! If we moved to New York (it might happen…it might), we’d definitely live here. Cool cafes, vintage clothes shops, street art, record shops, bars…bars…bars…

We spent ages walking around, buying odds and ends, then sought out the best murals, had lunch at the Smorgasburg food market at East River State Park (fried chicken and waffles) and a drink at a nearby bar (craft beer for him; blueberry lemonade for me). We could have spent days there. But, conscious of the long list of things still to fit in, and embracing the city of contrasts, we spend the remainder of the day at the Metropolitan Museum of Art…and its rooftop bar. The views across Central Park, as the sun was setting, were beautiful. Aahh, it’s making me smile just thinking about it. We didn’t have time this trip to do Central Park properly, but I’ve walked through it previously – taking in the lake, statues, woodlands, Strawberry Fields and other points of interest – and it’s an amazing space. Next time…

After a couple of days of brilliant sunshine, the storm the forecasters had been threatening since our arrival finally came on day 3. Undeterred – nothing can deter me from sight-seeing – we spent nearly the whole day at MoMA. My first time. Utterly fantastic! The American Modern exhibition was great and the permanent collection even more so. I had to be physically restrained from buying everything in the shop, but did manage to get away with a funky candlestick and a print of Andrew Wyeth’s Christina’s World. Sunday evening had been earmarked for the ‘fancy’ meal, so I’d booked us in to Colicchio & Sons in the Meatpacking District. Very nice it was too. Not white table cloth fancy, but definitely a treat and – again – the wine and service were exemplary. We all had the five-course tasting menu: canapés and fino, salmon, little neck clams with bucatini, beef short ribs, and peanut butter and caramelised banana torte for me. I felt decidedly stuffed afterwards!

We were back in the Meatpacking District early the next day for Chelsea Market and the Highline: a walk along a disused railway track, pimped up and planted with shrubs. It had turned grey and cool, so we didn’t see it at its best, but I’d say it’s definitely worth spending a couple of hours on. Paul and I then jumped on the subway to have a walk around the Lower East Side, with its old tenement buildings and street art, before re-joining the gang at the Rockefeller Centre for the ‘Top of the Rock’ experience.

The art deco GE Building at the centre of the Rockefeller plaza is 850 feet (70 stories) tall and yet – in a city with close to 6,000 high-rise buildings, 97 of which are over 600ft – is only the 13th tallest in New York. If you want properly tall, try the Trump Tower (927ft), Chrysler (1,046ft), Empire State (1,250ft)…or the daddy: Freedom Tower at a whopping 1,776ft (104 stories). Freedom (or, to give it its official name: One World Trade Centre) is the tallest building in the US and the 4^th tallest in the world. Wowser! Anyway, back to Rockefeller, where – despite its comparatively diminutive size – you can enjoy views from its observation deck that are probably the best urban landscapes you’re ever likely to see. As you circumnavigate the roof, you can pretty much see the whole of Manhattan, with Central Park stretching out in front of you to the north and the looming Empire State Building dominating the skyline to the south. You can even see the Statue of Liberty, way in the distance. Having been up GE on a previous visit, it was actually more impressive to see with menacing storm clouds gathering, turning the sky slowly blacker and blacker. All you’d have needed was a bat symbol and you’d have been in Gotham. The presence of lightning rods atop every building does, however, sober the mind, so I believe we were wise to hotfoot it down before testing our luck.

Turns out we’d saved the best ‘til last in terms of our gastronomic choices. The food at David Chang’s Momofuku Ssäm Bar on 2^nd Avenue was truly exceptional. I’d been desperately keen to go there after seeing the Korean-American chef on Treme (by far my favourite current TV show) and thinking his food looked delicious. I wasn’t wrong. Our starters of apple kimchi, soft shell crab and raw mackerel were very tasty, but it was the rotisserie duck centrepiece that stole the show: stuffed with sausage meat under the skin then roasted on a spit, with confit legs and sides of homemade chive pancakes, ssäm sauce, bibb lettuce and mint. Seriously, one of the nicest meals I’ve ever had. I know I’ve probably said that a few times in relation to great food in far-flung places, but you’ve gotta believe me on this one: I can’t recommend it enough.

So, that was the end of our short – but very sweet – stay in NYC. But not the end of our holiday…The next day saw us eating leftover duck on the train from Penn Station to Boston, Massachusetts, where we were to start our New England journey with my dad. I’ll tell you about that another day…

Pumpkin Season

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Having recently returned from New England, where Halloween is not considered a date in the calendar but a month-long season necessitating copious decorating the likes of which rivals Christmas in Blackpool, I thought a ‘festive’ post celebrating the king of squashes was in order. Did you know that a pumpkin is a fruit, not a vegetable? No, me neither. But I have a better appreciation having experienced its liberal use in every dish eaten over the last fortnight – only a small exaggeration, I assure you, as we enjoyed pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pumpkin muffins… pumpkin pancakes… pumpkin soup…

Here are some of my snaps from the States. Happy trick-or-treating!

[Photo of pumpkin scarecrow courtesy of Robert Wood (aka my dad]

The Wonderful World of Sculpture

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I’ve concentrated a lot on nature and the physical world in my themed photo entries – be it flora, fauna, landscape – so I thought I’d branch out this time into the art world…specifically my favourite art-form: sculpture. I’m lucky to have family in Yorkshire and so have been to some amazing exhibitions at the YSP, and I’d recommend travelling to the Peak District in nearby Derbyshire for the annual ‘Beyond Limits’ exhibition at Chatsworth House. Make a weekend of it! There are also photos here from shows at Pashley Manor in Kent; from The Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden at NOMA; and from the Dalí Theatre-Museum in Figueres. Enjoy!

Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil (Jaume Plensa)

Cubo I (Arnaldo Pomodoro)

The Engine of Evolution (Marc Quinn)

Contemporary Terracotta Warriors (Yue Minjun)

Swimming (Ju Ming)

We Stand Together, Blue Dog (George Rodrigue)

Karma: A Tower of Blinded Men Rising into the Sky (Do Ho Suh)

Butterflies (Manolo Valdes)

House of Knowledge (Jaume Plensa)

Exterior of Figueres Theatre-Museum (Salvador Dalí)

A Street Prawn Named Bob

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In August this year, in the middle of a pan-European heat wave, we embarked on what is fast attaining the status of a tradition: our annual villa holiday. Eight friends; one week; no rules! Wait…no, I think that’s the tagline of a film I saw recently. Scrap that. Anyway, our destination this year was Cascais, a small town on the Estoril Coast, a half-hour train ride from Lisbon.

Once a small fishing village, and latterly home to members of the Hungarian, Spanish and Italian royal families exiled after World War II, Cascais is now a popular holiday destination for both foreign tourists and locals. It has a pretty harbour, plenty of fish restaurants and small coves for sunbathing and swimming. We spent a few hours on the first day on the beach near the Farol de Santa Marta lighthouse and a similar length of time on Praia da Rainha on the last day, but the coves were busy and the Atlantic sea cold, so we actually preferred hanging out around the villa pool. We did, however, enjoy a day on Praia do Guincho, a surfing beach about 5km from Cascais. Making camp by the dunes at the back of the long stretch of sand, we spent the day relaxing, eating, reading, investigating the giant beached jellyfish, and catching rays. Rob donned his wetsuit and braved the waves, but despite being initially quite gung-ho, I chickened out when I saw the size of the swell. The rest of us had a go at body-boarding, finding it much easier to catch a wave than on our last attempt in Devon, but mainly kept our distance from the pounding waves and aquaplaned in the shallows. We returned to the villa with red, wind-beaten cheeks, salty hair and big grins on our faces!

Sintra proved to be a highlight of the trip. We travelled by taxi as always, since the taxis in Portugal are incredibly cheap and incredibly prompt (seemingly anticipating our calls, we’d find them already waiting for us by the time we got to the end of the driveway). The drivers in our group were pleased they hadn’t had to navigate the winding roads up through the nature park, and by the time we reached the Pena National Palace we were up in the clouds. Pena is considered to be one of the best examples of 19th-century Romanticism in the world. A UNESCO World Heritage Site and boasting a small but impressive chapel from the middle ages, the palace began life as a small sanctuary for monks but was transformed into a summer residence for the Portuguese royal family by King Ferdinand in the 19th century. The brightly-coloured palace, with its various arches, terraces and courtyards is really interesting to look around. And the nearby Castelo dos Mouros, an 8th century Moorish castle, is in some ways even more remarkable, enjoying panoramic views over the area. After a respectable amount of walking up and around the turrets, we worked our way down through the park to the town for a late lunch at Tasca do Xico, where we shared a range of local dishes and our first pastel de nata pastry of the trip (many more would follow!).

Of course, we also visited Lisbon, the oldest city in Western Europe and the de facto capital of Portugal (having never been officially confirmed as such: good pub quiz factoid). I think the city has a lot to recommend it; unfortunately, we chose the hottest day of the trip, making sight-seeing a bit of a chore. I had to kerb my usual instincts to pound the streets, particularly after a near-fainting episode at lunchtime, brought on – no doubt – by the attempt to drink Albariño whilst dehydrated. We still managed to fit plenty in though, including a trip on the distinctive yellow N28 tram to the old district of Alfama. Up on the hill, we visited the Castelo de São Jorge, another Moorish castle commanding views over the city and Tagus river below. Dozens of majestic peacocks, some featured in my recent ‘Cocks & ‘Hens post, wandered the grounds and we also saw some beautiful birds of prey. From the top of the turrets, you can see down the river to Cristo-Rei (Christ is King), a large statue on the opposite bank that’s modelled on Christ the Redeemer in Rio. It was erected after World War II, as a reminder that the city managed to escape the worst effects of the conflict.

In the afternoon, after succumbing and buying a gorgeous handmade tile at a little shop near the cathedral, we jumped on a train to Belém, famous as the place from which many of the great Portuguese explorers set off on their voyages. In particular, it is the point from which Vasco da Gama departed for India and Pedro Álvares Cabral left for Brazil in the 15^th century. The tall and very impressive Padrão dos Descobrimentos (Monument to the Discoveries) can be found on the bank of the Tagus, adorned with 33 figures (monarchs, explorers, cartographers, artists, and missionaries) from the Portuguese age of exploration. We also visited the stunning gothic church in Jerónimos Monastery, walked through the Praça do Império gardens and popped in briefly to the modern art gallery at Centro Cultural, where you can see one of Salvador Dalí’s lobster phones and works by Warhol. Phew, I’m feeling faint again just rehearsing all that back!

The night after, we returned to Lisbon to eat in 100 Maneiras in Bairro Alto. Chris – owner of Number 22 (one of the best restaurants in London) – had recommended it, so we knew we were on safe ground. There’s only one choice: the 10-course tasting menu. Forgive me for being boring, but the food was so delicious and unusual, I have to list the courses: we started with a clothesline of dehydrated codfish (literally; complete with little pegs); then moved on to octopus nuggets; an oyster, kiwi and passion fruit cocktail; salmon sashimi with a basil sorbet; foie gras lasagne; fresh water fish with a chlorophyll and lime risotto; raspberry Poncha with lime meringue; pigeon in ras el hanout and coconut in a beetroot sauce; watermelon soup with goats cheese and caramelized figs; and finally a deconstructed nata with coffee toffee dust. I’m unlikely to ever have a more interesting meal, unless I make it to The Fat Duck. We had an amazingly haughty sommelier, who looked at Mim with utter disdain when she tried to order a glass of red wine too early in the night and who walked away completely when Steph ordered a peach juice, but he was very funny and all the waiters made it a really relaxed affair. I’d really recommend it, if you’re in the city. It was late by the time we left the restaurant, so we didn’t have time to explore the fado bars of Bairro Alto before the last train back, but popped into a bar for the largest and strongest tequila-based cocktail ever, and subsequently felt rather worse-for-wear the next day!

Despite eating out in some lovely restaurants and enjoying the sights, the best part of the holiday was definitely the communal barbeques in the villa. Thanks to Jumbo, the super-sized supermarket in the centre of Cascais, we got lots of great value meat and seafood (including a 2kg bag of fresh prawns for under €10) and cooked up a feast twice during the trip. With Rob and Laura on ‘Team Charcoal’ and Paul on ‘Team Gas’, we ate royally – pork kebabs, steak, the aforementioned prawns, mounds of pesto pasta salad (courtesy of Nick, of course), heirloom tomatoes, grilled asparagus and other roasted veg. Yum, yum, yum! Sat out late with candles under the lemon and bougainvillea trees, drinking wine and laughing (lots) with a great bunch of friends, I felt incredibly fortunate. Incidentally, the house – Birre Villa – was great; definitely the best one we’ve stayed in on this type of holiday. A fantastic trip!

[Credit: Photos of Sunset at Praia da Rainha & Funicular to Bairro Alto courtsey of Becka Tudor]

‘Cocks & ‘Hens

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Peacocks are probably my third favourite bird, after penguins and flamingos. Wait…I forgot owls…and toucans…hmm, maybe peacocks are my fifth favourite bird. Anyway, I’m getting side-tracked. They are very pretty in any case. I’ve yet to capture a male displaying his train of feathers – surely the holy grail of peacock shots – but here is a collection of my favourite photos to date.

Beak-to-Beak (Palazzo Borromeo, Isola Bella) (Credit: Paul Adnitt)

True blue (Castle of São Jorge, Lisbon)

Bum shot (Leeds Castle, Kent)

Not So Drab (Lisbon, Portugal)

Tentative Chicks (Lisbon)

Snow White (Isola Bella, Italy)

The Train (Holland Park, London)

Elegant Snooze (Castle of São Jorge, Lisbon)

Strut (Isola Bella, Italy) (Credit: Paul Adnitt)

Cœur des Alpes

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Last month, Paul and I travelled to Basel for a friend’s wedding. In an effort to save money, we’d put our plans for a long-haul trip on hold and decided to extend our time in Switzerland instead. The wedding was lovely; a really relaxed affair with great live music and delicious food. We had canapés and champagne in a courtyard in the old part of town, accompanied by New Orleans-style jazz; second-lined down to the river for a boat trip on the Rhine; and finally danced ‘til 4am at a very funky dockside art exhibition centre. The bride and groom even got behind the mic and decks – respectively – to entertain us. Great fun!

After nursing our hangovers, we spent some time the following day exploring Basel, climbing to the top of Münster cathedral for views over the city, walking through the botanic gardens and Altstadt, and eating sausage by the river. We even managed to fit it seeing Andy Murray win the Wimbeldon final, which added an extra layer of excitement to the day! But soon it was time to move on to our next destination. Hiring a car, we travelled down the country to Gruyères in the Fribourg region. Yes, that’s where the cheese comes from! Incidentally, it’s one of my favourites…if you were ever looking for an edible present for me. The little town is straight out of a film set; so quintessentially Swiss. Little chocolate and cheese shops line the main street, waitresses serve tourists fondue and raclette – even in the height of summer (and yes, of course I had some) – and the imposing hilltop château looks designed by Disney. After looking around the castle, and enjoying a bizarre and comical audio-guide narrative from the ‘court jester’, we continued onward to Montreux.

When planning the trip, we’d quickly discovered that we’d be in the country at the same time as the famous Montreux Jazz Festival. This year, the festival was showcasing Prince, Gregory Porter, Bobby Womack, Of Monsters and Men, Bonnie Raitt, Valerie June, Kraftwerk and many others…frustratingly, we couldn’t afford any tickets, but that’s not important. There was plenty of free music in the park and along the riverfront, plus after-show gigs and jamming sessions to enjoy. Since we’d quickly discovered how ludicrously expensive restaurants in Switzerland are, it was also a godsend to eat at the festival’s food stalls. Good food to choose from too: burgers with gorgonzola fondue, tartiflette, gaufres… We saw some great music, and some not so great – the orchestra playing nothing but Depeche Mode covers was a low point; the Avishai Cohen Quartet a high.

Montreux is set on the eastern edge of beautiful Lake Geneva and we were staying in a local’s home (found on Air BnB, to which I’m a complete convert) with a large terrace overlooking the lake and town. As well as listening to music, we spent a day visiting Château de Chillon – a chocolate-box castle about an hour’s walk east along the lakeside – and Vevey, where the sculpture of the giant fork in the lake that adorns many a postcard can be found. While we weren’t overly impressed with Vevey, I’d definitely recommend Château de Chillon. It is such a photogenic building and has a really interesting history (and a far superior audio-guide…yes, we do keep score). Dating back possibly as far as 1005, though it is not clear exactly when it was built, the castle was home to the Counts of Savoy as well as many others over the years. But although it changed hands frequently, it was never invaded due to its strategic position on an island rock. It is also the star of various books and poems, most notably Bryron’s The Prisoner of Chillon, and his graffiti can be found in the cave stores under the castle. Now open for tours, it is listed as Switzerland’s most visited historic landmark. A word of warning though – we discovered two things on the journey from Chillon to Vevey: 1) it is not clear how you pay for bus tickets; and 2) the Swiss bus inspectors are scary SAS-looking guys who travel in packs and look like they’d be happy to shoot you if you gave them even the flimsiest of causes.

The following day, we caught a local train to Chexbres in the Lavaux wine region and walked through the vineyards to Saint-Saphorin, looping back round via Riyaz. It was about 35°C and the ‘gentle stroll’ felt nothing but by the end, but the area is stunning and the little French-speaking villages very quaint. After rehydrating and having a lunch of tuna carpaccio and saffron coley in the village of Cully (yum!), we drove to Château d’Aigle for another castle tour. The thunderstorm that had threatened for days finally arrived when we were inside the walls – very atmospheric, but resulting in an extremely soggy run back to the car.

Bidding farewell to Lake Geneva, we travelled next to Sion – a medieval cobbled town famous for its two imposing hills, with the remains of Château de Tourbillon atop one and the Basilique de Valère opposite. Our stay here was short and it would have been nice to have had longer, as the town has lots of nice little restaurants and the setting is lovely. We did have time to follow the suggested route around town and up to Valère for views across the valley and a wander round the church. And time for a baguette from a little Italian deli. But we missed the birds of prey show at the fort, unfortunately, because it was time to get back on the road: destination Täsch. It is from this little transport hub that you board a train to Zermatt, cars not being permitted in town.

Our time in Zermatt was easily my favourite part of the holiday. A charming ski resort at the foot of the Matterhorn, it’s almost as popular in the summer as winter due to the many hiking trails and sporting activities to be found in the region. And, anyway, there was still snow to be found in July and plenty of determined skiers and snowboarders ascending the slopes! We stayed in Cœur des Alpes (“heart of the alps”), an amazing boutique hotel with its own spa and jacuzzi deck. Very luxurious! But as well as chilling out in the pool with glasses of wine, we took a very exciting trip high up into the alps. You can buy (for a hefty price) a return ticket from the cable car station in Zermatt (1620m above sea level) all the way to Klein Matterhorn (3883m a.s.l. or 12,739ft!). That’s seriously high, I can tell you. Along the way, you get out at Furi, Schwarzsee and Trockener Steg, the views getting more stunning (and the cable car ride more precarious) at each stage. The final leg, between Trockener Steg and the glacier at Klein Matterhorn, is actually petrifying; there are no struts supporting the cable for most of the near vertical ascent! Luckily, the 360° panorama of the snow-capped alps, stretching as far as the eye can see, is more than worth both the price and the white-knuckle trip. It was -3°C at the top, but the sun kept us feeling reasonably warm and able to stand admiring the view for a long time. You’re also able to take a lift (how and who built these things, I just don’t know!) down into the glacier, where tunnels have been hollowed out and ice sculptures built. It’s even colder down there and my toes were soon numb. Having not wanted to fill our suitcase with coats and thermals just for one day of our trip, we instead simply layered up with t/shirts, cardigans and socks. It worked…kind of!

In Zermatt we decided to abuse the wallet and ate in some great restaurants: the best-cooked rack of lamb I’d ever had at Le Gitan Grill, accompanied by creamy potato dauphinoise that was replenished at an alarming rate, and fresh trout from the local river at Alphenblick. A fabulous way to end our time in Swtizerland! The second half of our holiday would take us into northern Italy, but that’s for another time…

Panorama shots of Switzerland

Lavaux wine region

Gruyères

Château de Tourbillon, Sion

Atop Klein Matterhorn

Matterhorn and the mighty alps

High above Zermatt

Snow capped beauties

Back on the Streets

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More wonderful Street Art from Brick Lane and its environs…

Bubblicious

Doing the Bolt

Craning to See

Brighten Up

You Put a Spell on Me

Talking About My Generation

Point and Crack

In My ‘Hood

New Faces

Loving the Living Room

‘Lympics

HK08

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With the shock arrival of the sun and the ensuing Decent British Summer^TM, I haven’t written a blog in a while, choosing instead to drink Pimms, hang bunting, build castles out of sand and enjoy other such fitting pursuits. I’ve missed regaling you with stories of my travels though, so today I turned on my computer and dredged my brain for memories of Hong Kong.

HK, or Xiānggǎng in Mandarin, means “fragrant harbour” – there you go: your first good factoid! It’s situated in the South China Sea and divided into three main areas: Kowloon Peninsula, Hong Kong Island and the New Territories. When I visited with my dad in 2008, we stayed in upper Kowloon and caught the metro and ferry back-and-forth to the island each day, which I think is the best way round to do it. I liked the city immediately – a blend of east-meets-west that calls to mind New York as much as it does any Asian capitals, probably more so. The city is a great place to wander around, though it’s crucial to make regular stops at street stalls selling dim sum, watch groups of elderly Chinese men play checkers, and take plenty of photos across the harbour.

You can board a converted Routemaster bus-come-city-tram and travel through the streets, forever staring skyward at the incredibly tall buildings: the International Commerce Centre (ICC), HSBC headquarters, Central Plaza and the Bank of China being some of the tallest. The red buses are a fitting reminder of the city-state’s history, since – apart from a brief period under Japanese control – Hong Kong was, as you know, part of the British Empire from the mid-1800s until 1997. It adopted many features of the British education and judiciary systems and became a thriving capitalist economy. Now once again part of the People’s Republic of China (it is one of the two Special Administrative Regions, along with Macau), it has remained resolutely different from mainland China, both politically and culturally, and enjoys a great deal of autonomy.

I’ve mentioned some of the skyscrapers. Hong Kong is one of the most densely populated places on earth, increasing in size under British rule from a population of 7,450 to nearly 6.5 million in ‘97. As a result, it is known for being the world’s most ‘vertical city’, covered as it is with over a thousand high-rise residential buildings, lofty hotels and soaring financial institutions. Despite this, it ranks as one of the top places to live in terms of life expectancy, IQ scores, quality of life and economic freedom. So, they’re clearly doing something right on their small patch of land!

There is, however, plenty of traditional Chinese culture in which to immerse yourself and lots of interesting eastern touches. Feng sui is taken very seriously, with expert architects employed on major construction projects to ensure proper orientation and avoid bad luck. Ba gua mirrors are used to ward off evil spirits and the city is peppered with Tin Hau temples. Tin Hau is the HK name for the Cantonese goddess Mazu, protector of fishermen. It makes sense that there’d be over sixty temples dedicated to her in a city with such strong connections to the sea. Further evidence of this affinity can be found down at Victoria Harbour, where impressive junk boats set sail regularly, though this is now mainly for the benefit of tourists.

A climb to the top of Victoria Peak (well, I say climb…no actual walking is required, just an ascent up a series of escalators and a funicular) is well worth the trip. The views are spectacular and – again – serve to remind just how much is packed into the state’s 426 sq miles. I’d also recommend a trip to Aberdeen, with its floating village and houseboats of the Tanka people, and Stanley Bay on the south of the island. Finally, no visit would be complete without a trip through Kowloon’s markets. Bird markets, fish markets, clothes markets, flowers markets…the list goes on. The night markets are particularly fun, bustling with people trying to buy all manner of weird-and-wonderful produce alongside merchants flashing the latest technological gadgets. The bright neon signs heralding hot pot and noodles make it even more atmospheric. And then head down to the waterfront for ‘A Symphony of Lights’, the laser, pyrotechnic and multimedia show that kicks off at 8pm every night. One of the best places to stand and watch is along the Avenue of Stars on Tsim Sha Tsui waterfront. Incidentally, you can get great seafood there too!

So that’s a brief tour of HK. Now back to the beer garden with my shades…

#Bright City Lights

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Fauna (Part 2)

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I told you that ‘Part 1‘ could only mean one thing. Feels slightly cheating, though, given I did a series of ZSL posts in between. But you can never have enough animal shots, that’s what I say…