Les Marchés de Noël de Belgique

Last weekend, my friend Kate and I went to Belgium to shop the Christmas markets. We first went to Liege (took the Eurostar via Brussels) where we spent the day on Saturday, then went to Brussels on Sunday.

I selected Liege because I read on the Internet that the city hosts the largest Christmas market in Belgium with 200+ stalls of food, drink, presents and crafts. Because of this, they call it "Christmas Town." What's not to like about that to get into the holiday spirit?

We left on Friday evening from the new Eurostar terminal at the newly restored St. Pancras Station in London (it's rather grand with a very nice champagne bar on the upper level). We arrived in Brussels about two hours later, then caught a commuter train that landed us in Liege in about another hour and a half (we were on a very slow train with many stops). We got to Liege around 11:30pm.

Liege is the third largest city in Belgium behind Brussels and Antwerp. I don't know what I was expecting, but it was not a pretty city. The weather was pretty cold, grey and awful, so that didn't exactly cast a nice light to help matters. I should have suspected it's not a stop on the tourist trail given my Lonely Planet guide to Europe didn't even bother including it.

Anyway, Kate and I stayed at a hotel located in the "Outremeuse" neighborhood, as it is on the other side of the river Meuse from the city's historic center...sort of like the left bank of Paris, only Liege is not in any way like Paris, except for the fact that like most European cities, it has a river running through it and the people speak French.

I'm still a bit confused by the city. Nowhere did I read that it was ugly or strange, which was my first impression. I read it had some interesting churches, museums and cobblestone streets. But it's charm (if there was any) was completely lost on Kate and I - it seemed like the city time had forgotten, with evidence of some past grandeur, all of which had seemingly fallen into neglect and decay. And whatever architecture wasn't old was just plain.....ugly.

The Christmas market (Le Marche Noel, to be native) wasn't so bad, and its appeal actually grew on us as the day and evening went on. It is located in the city's vast but unimpressive main square (backed by an old palace that is in need of a good power-washing), peppered with all the little log cabins and a big gaudy ferris wheel. 

The majority of the cabins offered food and drink -- waffles, sausages, chocolate, vin chaud (hot red wine), cider, fruit-infused vodkas, french fries (served with mayonnaise), assorted cheeses, cotton candy (or candy floss as they call it here), a local savoury dish that looked like mac and cheese, beer, bars of nougat with almonds, crepes/pancakes (cherry, apple and banana), homemade candy, hot baked Cammebert....it was a feast for the eyes and all deliciously tempting. There was also an assortment of craft booths with a variety of small treasures....ornaments, wooden games, candles, jewellry, pottery, etc.

We started the day at a warm and bustling little cafe and bakery we found off the main square. Obviously a popular spot with the locals, we had a couple coffees, Kate had a warm goat cheese salad and I had a delicious ham and mushroom quiche. It was a nice haven for what seemed to be such a strange place.

Over the next few hours, we browsed all the stalls, picked up a few gifts, enjoyed a delicious fresh waffle and warmed up with some vin chaud (many of the booths served Gluwein, a popular German hot red wine that was a yummy revelation to me).

Around 4pm, we strayed from the market to explore beyond the main square and see what else was in the city center. Though still a seemingly deserted city (or maybe it was just the dreary rainy weather that kept the world indoors), there were a couple streets full of antique shops and art galleries - so clearly there is some culture to be found in Liege, perhaps enhanced on a nicer day. We also came across a couple old churches/cathedrals and climbed the massive "Buren Stairs" which provided a sweeping view of the city from the top (and also reminded me how dreadfully out of shape I am as I found myself winded during the climb).

Our wander ended with a stop in a sweet little cafe and chocolate shop where I picked up some more treats. It had started to rain, so Kate and I stopped into a cute little bar on the main square. We enjoyed a couple Chimay Bleu beers, which are 9% alcohol (I love Chimay, it's so good and served in big fun round glasses) so we felt warm and dizzy after. 

We ate dinner at a rather fancy restaurant called Nun's, tucked away in an old building by the Buren stairs. We walked into the almost hidden entrance and found ourselves in a warm downstairs area with a swanky little lounge. There were two levels of the restaurant which served different cuisine. Downstairs was "continental" and upstairs was Thai. We chose the Thai option and went upstairs to a lofty and light dining room where we enjoyed some appetizers and curries. It was pretty good.

After dinner, we were compelled to go back to the market, which by that time seemed like a completely transformed place. Much prettier at night, all the stalls were alight and it had turned into an all-out festive and crowded party. Only then did we understand the allure of the Christmas Market. It's not about daytime shopping, but about a place that locals from all around can come together to enjoy time with their friends and family over lots of food and drink. The place was packed, with people warming themselves under the propane heaters drinking and eating all the warm yummies. We stuck around for another glass of vin chaud and enjoyed being part of the crowd as we talked and people-watched. By this point, the weekend had become a rather enjoyable experience. 

Before leaving the market, we stopped at one last food stall where Kate got another waffle (the batter goes into the waffle iron as a ball of dough rather than a liquid, which is what I think makes the consistency so nice and delicious), and I got an apple pancake - which was doused with powdered sugar and then folded and eaten like a thick crepe -- oh my golly was it good. We ate on the go as we crossed the river back to our hotel.

As we arrived back to our hotel on the dark, rainy street, we had to stop and laugh. A dark and foreboding looking building, the hotel sported a green neon light that ran the length of the hotel, with an accompanying green neon sign that said "Hotel." It looked like something out of a Martin Scorcese film. We laughed quickly though and ran inside -- it was not the kind of street that said "hang out and stay for awhile silly tourist girls..."

Neither one of us slept well that night. The street outside was very noisy all night with lots of loud people passing by, car alarms going off, and a man who seemed to be locked out of a place across the street at about 4am who yelled up to a window for about an hour in a language that couldn't be identified. Though we should have been angry when we both woke up the next morning with dark circles under our eyes (that was strange), all we could do was laugh. It was an adventure. It was funny.

We packed up our stuff and went downstairs for breakfast. We had a local Leige specialty which was like a rice pudding in a quiche-like form...it was good. The lady who ran the hotel was very nice and called us a taxi to the train station when we were finished. I was really impressed with Kate's French. She did all the talking for us and though she said her French was bad, I found her to be quite good.

Feeling we had seen all we wanted to of Leige, we got the heck out of dodge and took the train to Brussels. It must have been an express train, because the ride back was a bit shorter with only a couple stops.

We arrived in Brussels around noon, put our bags in a locker at the train station, then took a taxi to the Christmas Market in St. Catherine's Square. This was a pretty big market too, running the length of the long, rectangular square next to the cathedral and also sporting an ice skating rink and ferris wheel. This market was more crafts than food, but there was still plenty of vin chaud and waffles to satisfy the round of seconds we knew we would want later.

After browsing the stalls, we went for a late lunch/early dinner on the square where we each had a big lovely pot of moulets et frites (mussels and french fries) - a Belgian specialty. Yum. Then, we walked out (in the rain again) and it seemed the temperature had dropped by about twenty degrees. We then went into the old cathedral and had a look at the exhibition of Russian icons on display, then went back to the waffle stand at the market where we each had one last hot Belgian waffle -- this time served with a hefty dusting of powdered sugar AND melted warm chocolate. I have one word about this....no, two: YUM and GLUTTONY.

Stomachs uncomfortably full, we set out to find a taxi which proved to be really hard. Walking around the city in the drizzly rain, Brussels put me in mind of a smaller Paris. We finally got a taxi about a half hour later and made it back to the station about an hour before our train left.

A successful shopping trip, I left with an array of lovely chocolates (including a bag of butter truffles which truly do melt like butter in the mouth), some hard candy flavoured with violet, a few bars of nougat with almond (one of which I just finished consuming myself this morning, it was a big bar that took a few days to get through), two wooden puzzle games, a couple wooden ornaments, two silk pashminas for gifts, a gorgeous set of painted glass ornaments of the three wise men (those are keepsakes for me), and some very nicely-scented French soaps.

I had (appropriately) brought the book "Chocolat" with me which I read on the ride home. It is a REALLY great book -- I am almost finished with it, and think I will be sad when it ends! It is one of the most enjoyable books I have read, and after a weekend filled with chocolate, I am completely into it. Actually, it has given me the delusion that I would like to learn to make chocolate and open a shop. Could it be that Liege, of all places, has been the inspiration for my next career?   

We like to party.

Edelman had its annual Christmas party on December 4th (they call it "Christmas" here, not "holiday" like in New York). It was held at a very nice venue called the Lindley Hall in London (part of the Royal Horticultural Halls and Conference Center). I worked late, so I missed dinner and most of the performance (which was a bit like Cirque du Soleil), but I came in time for plenty of drinks and dancing. This is a picture of some of the gals I work with. From left to right: Kate, Vinnie, me, Amber, Nicole, and Faye. I especially like this photo because of Amber's disregard for the fact that a photo is being taken in favour of fully enjoying her drink. Who can blame her?


This is a picture of the Lindley Hall

The Stroopwafel

While visiting my friend Kate in Amsterdam last weekend, I discovered the Stroopwafel. Two super-thin small crispy waffles pasted together with a thin layer of gooey vanilla syrup. And boy are they delicious, the perfect partner for coffee. I've since discovered that EAT, a sandwich shop chain in London also makes/sells them under the name "Toffee Waffles." However, they are not as good, so the original will have to remain a guilty pleasure when in the Netherlands.

The Hotel New York, Rotterdam

Last week I attended a meeting in Rotterdam. It was a cold, dreary day -- certainly not weather that enhanced the look of the city.

The cab pulled up to the meeting venue, the Hotel New York. A large industrial brick building facing the waterfront on the city's "left bank" of the Maas, I assumed the interior, based on the name, would be some ultra-modern affair, mimicking the SoHo or Tribeca Grand variety of hotel in Manhattan that has become the cliche style of so many boutique hotels around the world these days.

But when I walked into the stark brick entryway, past the random stack of old fashioned luggage and through the heavy black iron revolving door, I was a bit confused and hit with a very different sensation. Was this New York? Was the hotel finished? What did it smell of....old books? What is this decor? It's kind of....retro...sort of...super old school.....like...Ellis Island New York. There was a palpable energy in the place....a good energy, but a bit somber. Or, maybe it was just the dreary day.

The air of mystery was lifted when a Dutch colleague told me that the hotel was built more than 100 years ago and served as the former headquarters of the Holland America Line (somehow I missed the giant "HOLLAND-AMERIKA LIJN" sprawled across the top of the outside of the building -- that's the thing that happens when you're rushing into a meeting).

America and Holland are inextricably linked. And moreover, so are nearby Amsterdam and New York....after all, New York was originally known as "New Amsterdam," founded by Henry Hudson in 1614, who left from Holland and fell upon what is now Manhattan via the (aptly named) Hudson River while seeking a passage to the East Indies.

The first ship "Rotterdam" was built in 1872 and the Holland-Amerika Lijn was started in 1896 with direct steam ship service to America, thus placing Rotterdam in a place of prominence in migrant transport history -- the primary destination being New York from 1873 to 1978.

But as the hotel's brochure so poignantly points out, high points in migrant history equal low points in world history. Rotterdam saw huge numbers of Eastern European migrants, mostly Jews, leave their homes in huge numbers for America in the most unhappy of circumstances. In the last quarter of the nineteenth century, 1,300 journeys were made: 90,000 saloon passengers and 40,000 third class passengers made the crossing.

In November 1971, the Nieuw Amsterdam II made it's final crossing from Rotterdam, marking an end to Rotterdam's 100 year shipping history. In 1977, the Holland-Amerika Lijn's headquarters moved to Seattle in the U.S. where the company became the Holland America Line and the old HQ in Rotterdam was put up for sale.

"And so the building stood there, with its two green towers acting not only as a landmark in the Rotterdam harbor, but also as a landmark in history. A silent witness, wondering about the fate of those people she had seen depart the shores, and all of those who had sailed under the banner of the HAL."

A solidarity is no doubt felt between the cities of Rotterdam and New York. And when you step foot into the Hotel New York (especially if you're an ex-New Yorker), you feel it. Despite the bustling cafe/restaurant and all the modern touches the hotel might offer now, it feels of a past that you were not part of but somehow know and understand...maybe it was a dream you had many years ago or a story that was told to you. It’s a place that you know, though the city is unfamiliar. The ambience is unmistakably New York, though in a different time and different era... maybe you experienced it in another life. The past and present come together in this place far away from home, and it's a little bit of magic in yet another corner of the world that you never expected to be, but that makes you feel part of something in time and space that’s all connected.

A Weekend of Thanks, Indeed.

I had a very nice Thanksgiving in London this year. I suppose to compensate for being away from home once again, I celebrated twice!

I worked all day Thursday, so it was nice to be invited to my friend Lindsay and Mike's home in Islington in the evening to wind down over a warm and cosy Thanksgiving dinner. There were seven of us total and it was lovely. Mike took the day off from work to perform his duties as master chef, and he did not dissapoint with a delicious squash soup to start (look at the pictures, it was like a spread from Bon Appetit magazine!), a yummy turkey with stuffing and cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and the mandatory green bean casserole. We also had a few bottles of very nice red wine which helped it all go down even nicer. I baked my typical pecan pie and my friend Kate baked an apple pie, so we ended on a very sweet note.

Instead of the typical evening of American football, we spent some time in front of the computer after dinner watching various videos on YouTube and laughing our heads off. My how times have changed. Actually, growing up at home, I never cared for football, I was much more excited by the TV showing of "The Sound of Music" that they aired every Thanksgiving night in the U.S. My cousin Lauren and I would always argue over who "was" Maria (we were always casting ourselves in fictional productions). Those wre slightly magical times, I love Thanksgiving at home.

Friday, my friend Kate came to town to visit from Amsterdam, and Molly came in from NYC, as she always does for Thanksgiving. Friday evening, they came to my flat for champagne and snacks, and then we met our friend Cristina and went to the theatre to see the play "Swimming with Sharks" starring American actor Christian Slater. It was just ok...a little flat (I was also very tired and was fighting to stay awake during the first act...must have been the champagne before). After the play, Cristina went home, and Molly, Kate and I met my friend Cabe out for a drink, along with his girlfriend Juliet and his sister Sally, who was visiting from NY. We had a few drinks at Jewel Bar, downstairs from my flat, then Molly, Kate and I got takeaway pizzas and salads from Fire & Stone next door....then took it back to my place, got in our PJs and had a slumber party until we crashed around 2am.

Saturday, Molly left in the morning, I baked another pecan pie, and Kate and I spent the day lounging in my flat, reading magazines and gabbing....it was great! We then went to Cristina and John's for their annual Thanksgiving dinner at 4pm. Think this year was my favorite one so far (it's year number 3 doing the Chiswick Thanksgiving at the Benson's!) Cristina and John's daughter Katie is 3.5 and is always the star attraction, she is SOOO much fun. They also have a new baby Jack, who is 6 months old. There was a crowd of 14 adults and 3 kids this year, so it was very lively. And the food was awesome - Molly always serves as master chef and did a brilliant job orchestrating the kitchen (as always). After dessert, we played a round of turkey trivia that Cristina had developed and sat around the table talking into the later hours. Kate and I got back to my place around 10 or 11. It was a really good day.

Sunday, Kate and I braved the crowds on Oxford Street and went shopping at Selfridges in the early afternoon. Then we met Molly and Cristina at 3:30 for tea at Claridges. While I liked the setting and the music, I must say it is not my favorite tea in London, I was a bit dissapointed by the food. I would still choose the Berkeley or the Lansborough over Claridges if making a recommendation. But they served a nice Dom Ruinart pink champagne to start and the sandwiches and scones were pretty good (I was not impressed with the Christmas cakes and pastries). We still had a very nice time together. After tea, Cristina and Molly left and Kate and I moved to the bar where we had some proper cocktails. My (other) friend Kate met us there, so we had a nice session.

Kate and I walked home from Claridges, which took about a half hour. It was wonderful because we walked via Bond and Regent Streets, so we got to window shop and see lots of pretty Christmas lights. It was very nice outside and a pleasent stroll. I think my favourite lights so far are these GIANT angels with halos and wings, lit up in white lights, that line South Molton Street....gorgeous. I'll have to take a picture.

Today (Monday), I worked in the morning and then took the afternoon off to shop a bit more with Kate on Kings Road. I bought a pretty patterned silk dress for my company Christmas party. We got back to the flat at 4:30 and Kate left for the airport.

I am lucky to have such nice friends here in London. The weekend was like a mini holiday....a bit restorative. A lot thankful.

Mike's picture-perfect sqash soup
Mike gets the bird ready
Kate and Cat
Lindsay, Kate and Cat
Kate's apple pie

Cat's (famous) pecan pie

Lara Croft, My Halloween Alter Ego

This picture ought to have my family back home good and worried - no fear Ma, it's just a little Halloween fun! I can't remember the last time I dressed up for Halloween, but I forced myself to get into the spirit last night for my friends' Lindsay and Mike's Halloween party. I went as my very favourite action heroine Lara Croft, from the video game "Tomb Raider" (which was also made into two awesome movies starring Angelina Jolie). I know it looks agressive with the guns and all, but she is a force for good...really only shooting mummies and stone creatures and monsters as she seeks buried treasure and saves the world -- a female Indiana Jones. And she is, I might add, an English character.

I was glad it was a Halloween party hosted by Americans, as in England, Brits only tend to dress as something scary for Holloween -- such as a witch or ghost or vampire or ghoul or mummy. But in true American style, we dressed as whatever we wanted. There were some devils and a bloody butcher in attendance, but there were also two well-appointed geishas, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz (my friend Kate), a sexy Robin Hood (Lindsay), Ali G (Mike), a dog, Amy Winehouse and her husband (Sherri and Jacob) and of course, a handful of plainclothes people who came as themselves.

Anyway, it was a fun night and I enjoyed my alter ego. I will be a bit sad to return my guns and holster to the costume shop tomorrow.

Heather's Farewell...and Two Waiters

Heather, one of my oldest and dearest friends in the two years I've been here, is leaving for Dubai tomorrow to seek out a life of fame and fortune with her beau Nick. Ok, well, he got transferred with his bank for two years and she's going because she's in love and got a nice job with Edelman's affliate there. I am positive that she....they....will be amazingly successful and have totally good times.

So we had a little goodbye dinner tonight at a totally sweet place called "Small & Beautiful" in Kilburn...underneath the Brondesbury rail track. it is a very cute little place with great food at amazingly affordable prices.

Anyway, I am sad to see her go, but looking forward to my visit to Dubai, which I predict will be sometime between the months of February and May 2008. They have a sweet pad on the beach that I plan to take full advantage of.

There were about 8 girls in attendance tonight (we talked about all sorts of good stuff....jobs, waxing, spa treatments, guys, parts of guys, you know, the usual) - but this is a picture of Heather, me, and two very attentive waiters (we did not ask them to be in this picture, but there you have it). Notice Heather's swank new haircut with the fringe. And notice how huge I look in my coat...but that's becuase the waiter was unusually small. (It is winter now in England, by the way -- temperature seemed to drop about 40 degrees today). After this picture was taken, the waiter seemed to want to kiss me inappropriately (not that there is usually an appropriate way for a random waiter to kiss you), but I resisted and sort of ran outta there. That was really weird and awkward.

Anyway, Heather has been like a little sister to me, so it was hard not to cry when I left her. But I didn't. Just a little "bon voyage" for now. As usual, I'll probably talk to her more now that we don't live in the same city than I did when we were together. It's always like that, you take for granted the people closest to you. That kinda sucks, really, don't know why that is.

I took the tube home with my friend Sarah and got off at Westminster station. I sort of felt like crying becuase I was sad to see my friend go, but then when I walked out, Big Ben was, bam, right there, huge and looming overhead, all lit up like a happy smack in the face. And then I didn't feel sad anymore...becuase it is so pretty and I was very happy to be staying/living in London. So I took a picture with my camera phone to capture the moment -- and here it is. That was good karma. Happy trails, Heather!

Bridge Art Fair and "The Crack"

Thursday night, I randomly ended up at the Trafalgar Hotel after work with my pal Lindsay, who had tickets to the Bridge Art Fair -- a coming together of art galleries from around the world that set up shop in more than 80 nicely-curated rooms at the Trafalgar.

After having a few cocktails downstairs in the bar, we began our wander around 9pm. It's a cool concept. In some rooms the beds have been removed, in others, not, but each room boasts it's own collection (by gallery), and you can chat with the gallery owners/managers, and in some cases, the artists. I really liked much of what I saw, and surprisingly, a lot of the work (mostly all for sale) was relatively affordable, so it was nice to look at so many great pieces that you could actually consider buying (I did, however, walk away empty-handed).

I only made it through 2.5 floors before I had to call it a night, as my 3.5 inch heels were not feeling so friendly and I was shaking off the last of my Tokyo jetlag. But the fair is a clever idea, one that will also manifest itself in New York and Miami. For more information, you can visit www.bridgeartfair.com.

Saturday, my friend Carmen and I went to the Tate Modern to see Doris Salcedo's new work commissioned for the Tate's massive Turbine Hall. Titled "Shibboleth," it is a crack in the smooth concrete floor that starts as a hairline and runs the full length of the hall, going a few feet deep and wide in some areas. Despite much speculation, the Tate will not reveal if the crack was actually drilled into the floor of the museum, or if it was created on a "false" floor laid on top. From what I can tell, it looks like the real floor.

What's it all about? Here's the short of it: The work is supposed to "ask questions about the interaction of sculpture and space, about architecture and the values it enshrines, and about the shaky ideological foundations on which Western notions of modernity are built. In particular, Salcedo is addressing a long legacy of racism and colonialism that underlies the modern world. ‘The history of racism’, Salcedo writes, ‘runs parallel to the history of modernity, and is its untold dark side’. For hundreds of years, Western ideas of progress and prosperity have been underpinned by colonial exploitation and the withdrawal of basic rights from others. In breaking open the floor of the museum, Salcedo is exposing a fracture in modernity itself. Her work encourages us to confront uncomfortable truths about our history and about ourselves with absolute candidness, and without self-deception."

Pretty deep, huh? Well, despite the debates I have had with certain friends over this (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. OLLY.) and all the cheap jokes made at its expense (MOMA in NYC really deserved it, not these overly-practical Brits) I could totally buy what Ms. Salcedo is selling. I get it. But what I REALLY found compelling about it was the interaction people were having with it. In my opinion, art is ultimately successful if it makes people curious and starts them talking, and if it engages a large cross-section of people. The crack certainly delivers on that. The place was overrun with adults and children alike. Kids were down on their knees peering into the crack, some with small binoculars examing the crevices and the wire intermeshed with the concrete inside. Adults were straddling it and posing with it for photos. People were comparing it to other things, like the Grand Canyon (ok, that was me) and Georgia O'Keefe paintings (ok, that was me too, but there were other people doing it as well). People were trying to keep their kids from stepping into it. Other people were purposely stepping in it. At the end of the hall, the crack seems to continue, underneath the wall....so people were down on their knees, positioned with their heads upside down, trying to see where the crack went. There was lots of talk and hypothesising over how the crack was made. Was it real? How did they do it? How will they put the floor back right?

To see my very own personal pictures of Shibboleth/"the crack," click here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/catsview/sets/72157602421460316/

Tokyo Overload

I just returned from a week in Tokyo for work, and you might find this shocking, but I LOVED it! Ha ha ha, I know you people think I LOVE everything, but I really REALLY loved it! I can’t help it, I have chronic world love.



Clueless Arrival in Another New Land

We arrived on Sunday morning, and thanks to a surprise upgrade to first class on BA, I slept like a proper person so I didn’t feel wrecked when I got there. I was travelling with two colleagues/friends, Kath and Sheryl. We decided upon arrival (based on no real evidence) that the train would be the fastest and easiest way to get into the city. So we purchased tickets and promptly got on the wrong train, a fact we realised about 15 minutes into the ride. After some mass confusion over train maps we couldn’t read or understand, we managed to get off at the correct stop where we connected to the subway to get to our hotel. We navigated the subway pretty well, although our very large and heavy suitcases were problematic, given lifts aren’t very prevalent in the Tokyo subway, but lots and lots and lots of stairs are. That was fun. At one point, a little man about the same size as Kath’s suitcase helped carry hers down the steps. About 3+ hours later (like I said….train…..fast and easy!), we came out of the subway to find ourselves in the rain and lost. Visibly confused, an English-speaking man pointed us in the right direction, and 15 minutes later we arrived at the Westin Hotel (in the Ebisu neighbourhood) soaking wet. It’s good to arrive at foreign destinations looking swell like that.

One Sentence about Work
(the details of which must remain highly confidential to sustain the air of mystery I am nurturing….is it working?)

We worked all day every day, Monday – Thursday, and a bit on Friday. But there were a few outings to get out and have some fun. I didn’t sleep a whole lot. Here are the highlights, not in chronological order:

Innovative Toilets, Clear Umbrellas, Taxi Doors that Open on Their Own, and Talking Jumbo-trons

I always start with food, so I’m going to do something a little different and begin with the next logical thing: toilets. Toilets in Japan are the Mercedes Benz of the category compared to anything I have seen. The seats are heated, and attached to the side is an electrical console (which somehow seems dangerous) with an array of bidet functions and a button to make false flush noises in the event you need to mask any undesirable sounds for others in the bathroom. And taking that point a step further, at the office where I was working, each toilet stall has a motion sensor so that when you go in and sit down, a little speaker loudly emits “white noise” along with the sound of chirping birds -- quite a startling thing for a first-timer. But once you get over the initial surprise, it’s kind of like being in an electric rainforest.

Speaking of, it rained the first two days there, which allowed us to see a bit of iconic Tokyo – clear umbrellas. Most everyone carries them. White handles and clear plastic tops, a sea of them covering the streets and sidewalks. It’s whimsical. I was going to buy one myself to take home, but decided the effect would somehow be lost in London.

Then there are the taxi doors that open and close all on their own -- very “Mr. Roboto.” The taxis are immaculately clean, however they all smell faintly of stale cigarette smoke. You can smoke in taxis, on trains and everywhere really (and the Japanese certainly do)….which is odd after living in smoke-free cities for the past 7 years.

In Times Square in NYC, there are jumbo-trons everywhere (the super size video screens that hover over the city broadcasting all sorts of mindless crap), but they are silent. In Tokyo, there are more of them, and they all emit sound, so there is a constant buzz of loud Japanese noise coming from everywhere in the streets….voices and sounds all talking over each other. Guess the noise saved by no slamming taxi doors is replaced with talking jumbo-trons. It’s wacky.

Ok, now for the Food!

Holy deliciousness! We had a few really stellar sushi/sashimi-filled meals – one at a place atop a 30-floor building (the name of which I can’t remember). It was close to our hotel in Ebisu. The food was great and the surrounding views of the city were magnificent. I haven’t really seen a city like Tokyo since Mexico City, in that you can only see big city in every direction to the horizon….it dwarfs Manhattan from an aerial view perspective, it’s extremely fantastic.

My favourite thing at that meal was this savoury crème brulee-type texture thing (made from bean curd) with mushrooms and some other yummies in it. It was served hot in a little pot with a lid and was so rich and delicious. I will need to find out what it is called on the Internet (because, um, just asking the waiter would have been too pedestrian). There was also an assortment of sashimi and sushi that just kept coming and coming and coming, as well as grilled meat kabobs and a passion-fruity granita/sorbet type thing for dessert.

Another standout meal was Thursday night at a Korean BBQ where we sat around the little tables (I forget what you call them, but they are the tables you sit around on cushions on the floor and your feet go down in the little well-like area underneath). There were plenty of vegetarian options, but it was mostly all platters of thinly-sliced raw meats that you cooked yourself on a central charcoal grill in the middle of the table. I don’t really eat red meat, so I just had fun cooking it all (I love anything that requires cooking with tongs). I did try a little taste…it was pretty good, for meat, that is.

Karaoke, Western-Style (pictures to come)

After the Korean BBQ, we decided to go be very predictable and sing some karaoke. So a group of about 15 of us went to a karaoke place, rented a small room complete with a dynamically lit “stage,” got lots and lots and lots of drinks and set out to be rock stars. All I’ll say about this in summary is 1) we were there for about 4+ hours, 2) there were three microphones in circulation that were being grabbed at by all the entire night, 3) singing was not enough - soon into it, we pushed the tables aside so we could dance as well, 4) did I mention the drinks never ended? and 5) if I never hear another Bon Jovi or Aerosmith song again in my life, that’s just fine. One of our Korean colleagues made some astute observations about westerners and karaoke - such as - we do not respect the microphone, nor do we really try and sing (yelling would be the best description). Oh, and the crazy dancing on the furniture was a new twist for him. So see, it was truly a cross-cultural learning exercise.

Tsukiji Central Fish Market Visit(still decked out in all-night party clothes and trying to mitigate emanate hangovers)

Around 4am, we got kicked out of the karaoke place and a few us decided to take advantage of being awake at the early hour and go to the Tsukiji Central Fish Market (3-6am is prime time for seeing the market at it’s busiest). Tsukiji is the largest (and perhaps best) seafood market in the world. So, five of us piled into a taxi, went back to the hotel to grab our cameras and went on our way. I don’t think anyone was remarkably sober at this point, and being completely exhausted added another fun dimension to the mix. Anyway, the taxi at the hotel wouldn’t let the five of us in his car to go together, so we split up. Sheryl and I were in one car, and three other colleagues (who I’ll leave un-named to protect their integrity) went in the other. We didn’t have our phones on us, but figured we’d just meet up at the market…I mean, how hard could it be to find each other once there? Ha ha ha ha ha…. After waiting on the corner for about 10 minutes (after a 20 minute taxi ride in the dark with our crazy driver driving like a bat out of hell), Sheryl and I figured perhaps there were too many corners at which to be dropped, so we’d find our colleagues inside, a hypothesis that quickly vanished as soon as we got into the place and realised how freaking big and crazy it is.

Tsukiji is a massive high-energy expanse of a market buzzing with workers on foot and ripping around on motorised seafood movers (for lack of the right word). Poor Sheryl was still a little tipsy and groggy and had a few near-death experiences. The workers are there to do their jobs, not cater to tourists, so it’s look at your own risk while trying really hard to not get run over by a motorised vehicle carrying a very large fish.

We cautiously made our way down several long and mesmerising maze-like rows of gigantic fresh (and frozen) fish of every variety on earth. Lots of blood-red tuna, big-eyed red snapper and brilliantly silvery sleek mackerel. And then there were endless creepy crawlies from every layer of the sea -- all still alive in hundreds and hundreds of tanks and trays everywhere. We’re talking scallops bigger than my head, octopus, squid, fish eggs (roe), shellfish I had never seen before of massive sizes, crabs, lobsters, eels (lots of live eels and fish in tanks as well), sea urchins, buckets of white bait, prawns (shrimp) of all sizes, monster clams with massive tails….I mean, how is there anything left in the sea after all that fishing?? And do they get rid of most of it in a day’s time? I’m sure it gets exported all over the world, but geezy, I’ve never seen anything like that. And the amazing part is that the market does not smell overly fishy, a sign that it’s all literally right out of the water.

The Sushi Breakfast of Champions

Sheryl and I were running out of energy and getting increasingly hungry as the hangovers set in, so we left the central market and went looking for a sushi place recommended by my city guide to have breakfast. It was right off the market, so we were able to get there in a few minutes. Even though we kind of knew where we were going, Sheryl asked for directions about three times because she was having fun practicing her Japanese. For 6am, there was lots of laughing and general silliness as we stumbled along. We got to the place (Daiwa Sushi, Building 6!) and were extremely pleased be seated immediately at the tiny 12-15 seat sushi bar. We got there just in the nick of time…when we left about 20-25 minutes later, there was queue that had formed outside. This sushi was incredible, so fresh from the sea, you could tell just by looking that it might jump right off the plate. There was no menu selection, the sushi chef just kept placing pieces and rolls on our plate over the counter until we had to signal for him to stop before we burst. Along with the sushi, we also got miso soup (with fish in it) and green tea….all for a very reasonable 7,000 yen (that’s about £28) for the both of us. After eating and feeling very full, we walked out into the daylight, left the market, dove into a cab and tried to keep our eyes open to the hotel. I fell into bed and got about 4.5 hours sleep. But I had it easy, some of my colleagues had to go straight to meetings and make presentations at 9am….

Friday night: More Delicious Food and Some Friendly Yelling

The last meal I should mention was last night (Friday) at a place called Inakaya in Roppongi, the same neon-lit neighbourhood where we did karaoke the night before. I went with Kath, Sheryl and another colleague, Oscar (he goes by Ren-Ren, but I prefer Oscar). Catering more to the tourist crowd, diners sit around a long communal table surrounded by baskets of fresh seafood and vegetables that you pick from. In front of the table are two chefs who prepare and cook your food right in front of you and deliver it to your seat via long paddles. There’s also lots of yelling in Japanese between the waiters and cooks that I couldn’t understand, but the atmosphere was lively and jovial. We had the most beautiful platter of sashimi I have ever seen (see pictures via the link at the bottom of this post) with mackerel (served with its beautiful silvery skin still on), tuna, salmon, sea urchin, and octopus. It was stellar. We also had prawns the size of small lobsters served with fresh sprigs of lemongrass, succulently fried red snapper (it was decadent), tiny little red crabs that you eat whole (I might be a crab-loving gal from Maryland, but even THAT was weird for me….I made Sheryl try it first), buttery soft beef kabobs, teriyaki spring onions, steamed mushrooms, amazing grilled asparagus, and some large grapes for dessert. Oh, I also had two boxes of sake.

“Advent Calendar-Style” Tokyo Night Life & a Little Lost in Translation

After dinner at Inakaya, we walked around the block to a building that had a sign outside listing what appeared to be a few bars inside. Kath told us that lots of buildings in Tokyo have a cluster of different bars in them on every floor, and you just kind of go in, get on the lift, press every button and see what’s on each floor. So that’s what we did. The top two floors did not produce any results. We got off the lift into stark, empty hallways with non-descript doors. The first door we opened seemed to be someone’s apartment with some people sitting around (“oops” sorry!). When we opened the next door, a Japanese man dressed as a geisha rushed towards us and told us they were full and we couldn’t come in. That was strange. It seemed like maybe it was more of a private “gentlemen’s” club. The third door we opened brought us into a very stark and modern bar/lounge – everything was white, but there was no one in it.

We had one more door to try on the second floor, at the end of the hallway, with a sign over it that read “Rush Hour.” We opened it and were almost immediately greeted by a waiter who rushed toward us with a smile asking “4 people?” and beckoned us to follow him to a table….we didn’t really have a choice but to go in. We left our shoes at the door with all the others and stepped into a small dark room with about 3 long tables, two long white vinyl booths on either side, a giant gold Buddha that took up most of one wall, and a small semi-circular bar sunk into the ground. It was very small and dimly lit with mirrors on the far end wall. You had to climb over the back of one of the white banquettes to get to the other side of the table.

Next to us was a table of three Japanese men and two women, then there was the waiter/bartender (wearing a white T-shirt with a satiny purple vest/bib over it), a waitress, and a couple other random Japanese men at the bar. Loungy club music was playing. Later on, two very coiffed hipster guys came in and joined the people at the table next to us. It was obviously a local place and I got the feeling they weren’t used to foreigners rolling in unexpectedly. The menus were all in Japanese, so we just ordered a bottle of champagne. The waitress also brought us out some tomato, mozzarella and basil, and later some Tex Mex-style nachos. She kept asking us if we wanted more to eat (we were still so stuffed from dinner), if we were too cold, etc…everyone was so nice, and very interested in where we were from and if we liked Tokyo.

Then, the table next to us bought us all a round of tequila shots and we all began talking. Well, kinda. No one really spoke English, so it was a lot of laughing, repetition and garbled chatting. Oscar can understand a bit of Japanese, so he helped translate a little. But that’s the thing I love about the people there, they are not at all bashful to try and have a full conversation with you even if you have no common language. It’s almost like, if you just keep talking your own language, eventually everyone will understand each other and it will all make sense (or, maybe it doesn’t need to make sense to still communicate, not sure). Regardless, there is so much laughing and friendliness…it’s endearing.

We tried to re-pay the favour and buy them a round of vodka shots, but the waiter brought out a bottle of gin instead and proceeded to mix it in the shot glasses with a little tonic. It didn’t seem like they really cared for the gin (the waiter/bartender certainly did though, he was taking sips between each shot he poured), but they graciously drank it.

The waitress came over at one point and sat next to me for a chat. Her English wasn’t bad, she was asking me lots of questions about America and saying she wanted to visit.

Working on about 3 hours of sleep over the previous 48 hours, we left after our 2nd bottle of champagne and took a taxi back to the hotel where I immediately fell onto the bed in a dead sleep…it was a fun night.

The View from the Top (of the Cerulean Hotel)

Very late on Wednesday night, after a heated day of team debates and tension, we all went to the bar at the top of the Cerulean Hotel after dinner (where some of the team were staying) to hash out our differences around a table with some drinks and a laptop. The view from the lounge was mesmerising - 360 degrees of the city at night - an endless scene-scape of twinkling lights up to the sky and as far as the eye could see. After getting a glimpse of that view, I felt quiet and really didn’t feel like adding to the conflict any more. Hmmm…perhaps we should send some more people to the top of the Cerulean Hotel (but that’s another blog post for a different time).

Shopping in Shibuya and Harajuku

I managed to fit in a couple overwhelming hours shopping in the trendy and funky hoods of Shibuya and Harajuku. Shibuya is a bustling neighbourhood reminiscent of Times Square with lots of neon lights, noise, traffic and people. There are a few trendy department stores full of fashion and teenagers.

Harajuku is a slightly calmer neighbourhood in some parts, with back streets full of small designer boutiques and cafes….I’d liken it more to SoHo in NY. My hope in going there was to se some of the famed “Harajuku Girls” that Gwen Stefani sings about, but I was unable to spot any….I only saw the clothes (but Sheryl and Kath saw some on their visit, I was very envious). I stopped in to La Foret, a very nice 5-floor department store off the main shopping street, and purchased a top and two necklaces. The fashion in Tokyo is all super feminine – I love it….everything has a nice soft touch to it, if it’s not overtly baby doll-like. Both neighbourhoods are crazy consumery – almost overwhelmingly so. I had to cut my shopping short on Friday to go back to the hotel and work, which was just as well…I was getting vertigo from being near all that shopping.

Common Courtesies

The thing you really see and feel the most after a visit to Japan is how carefully polite the people are. And I don’t mean “seemingly-polite-on-the-surface-because-of-charming-sounding-accents” like the Brits, I mean something very different, a whole new level. If people are sick, they wear masks over their mouth so as not to affect others. The traditional Japanese bow (a greeting, a thank you, a goodbye, etc.) was almost too much to handle in one department store I stopped into (they must be very limber with all that bowing). There is ultimate respect for age and experience. Most meals begin and finish with a warm cloth, even in the not-so-fancy places. You take your shoes off before entering many restaurants, all homes, and clothing store dressing rooms. Also in the dressing rooms, there are disposable face covers so that you don’t get makeup on the clothes you are trying. Going through airport security you are given a pair of slippers if you have to take your shoes off. We had a taxi driver who apologised unnecessarily and profusely when he took us to the wrong hotel, even though WE accidentally told him the wrong place. Drivers and airport staff wear white gloves. If you look lost, someone will often stop and try and help you, even if you don’t speak Japanese and they don’t speak English. All stores and most taxis have little decorative trays that you put your money on when paying and they give you your change and credit card back on them. Restaurant service is overly accommodating and friendly. When receiving someone’s business card at a meeting, it is customary to give and receive it with both hands, appear to actually read it for a few seconds and keep it on the table with you for the duration of the meeting (vs. throwing it in your bag which would be insulting). In shoppes, everything you buy is carefully wrapped in front if you, often in decorative paper (presentation is very important when it comes to gifts and purchased goods). There is a gentleness and sincere attention to care….surprising in a city as gargantuan as Tokyo. And our colleagues in Japan could not have been more friendly, warm and accommodating – very gracious hosts.

What I Did Not Get to Do, Much to My Chagrin

I really wanted to see some of the Shinto Shrines and Buddhist Temples, but I didn’t have enough time in the daylight hours to even see one. DARNIT! That seems ridiculous, but I’ll make that the top priority on my next visit. I also didn’t get to go to the flagship MUJI store, or shop in the fancy Ginza neighbourhood, or have a drink at the bar at the Park Hyatt hotel (made famous in the movie “Lost in Translation,” which happens to be one of my all-time favourite movies). I also didn’t play Pachinko in one of the casinos or get a chance to just turn on the television in my hotel room and see what Japanese TV is like. Or go get a Japanese spa treatment, or wander around one of the many beautiful gardens and parks I read about. Oh, and I didn’t get to try blowfish either. Oh well, maybe next time…it’s hard to holiday when you’re there for work.

Hello Mt. Fuji!

While the weather was warm and humid most every day, it was also muggy and overcast with poor visibility. However, this morning (Saturday), when I awoke to leave, the sun was shining and it was super clear. So clear that I could see Mt. Fuji looming over the city in the distance. It was right outside my window straight on, yet I wasn’t able to se it any of the other days. It looks like a big volcano (Post script: Um, that's becuase it IS a big volano. Duh.) It's huge.

Hey Ma, Look at (some of) My Pictures!
Check out my pictures by clicking on this link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/catsview/sets/72157602298313832/

6 Years

“We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.”
-Tom Stoppard

Buddhist Thought of the Day

Play your part in the comedy, but don't identify yourself with your role. (Why Lazurus Laughed by Wei Wu Wei)

Two Year Anniversary

September 1st marked my two year anniversary living in London. I can't beleive how fast it has gone. That 6 months I originally planned for here has quite literally turned out to be something else. But I'm really happy right where I am and can honestly say that I'm living in the moment more than ever. I don't want to be in yesterday or tomorrow....it's all good right here. I'm grateful for every day and the minutes that fill them.

Today I had lunch with my friend Cabe Franklin who recently moved here from New York with his girlfriend Julia. Cabe and I go ways back, and it's really cool and heartening to see him here and to have these concentric circles of people who keep coming back around to share my world. It's great. I am thankful for the wonderful friends in my life. No matter where I am, they make it home.

On a slightly less sentimental note, I also counted the approximate number of flights I have taken since moving here two years ago. My tally came to 87 airplane rides, 16 countries and 35 cities. That's crazy. But awesome.

Unfortunately though, the travel takes it's toll. For instance, I haven't really unpacked from my last two trips and my bed is piled a mile high with clothes, bags and suitcases. There is no space to sleep. As a matter of fact, I am writing this blog post simply as a stall tactic for not having to go deal with it. Oh well, like many things, it can all be pushed aside and tackled in the morning. :)

Miscellaneous Mobile Phone Cleanout

While waiting around bored in the Palma airport this week, I realised I had a bunch of random photos stored in my mobile phone from occassions where I had left my camera at home. So here they are, some pretty old, in no particular order. Half of it I would have forgotten had I not come across these pix!

This is an alligator made of shoes on display at a Puma art exhibition in NYC.
This is me and a monkey, also made out of shoes at that same exhibition.
Me in a NY taxi.
A cocktail. I'm not exactly sure where. I think in Paris.
A "beach club" in Hamburg, Germany. I went there with my friend and colleague Pia after work one day.
This is Muji -- one of my favourite shoppes in London. I took this for my friend in NY, Nana, who loves the place. But I don't think I ever sent it to her.
This is me and an ex-boyfriend in Paris earlier this year. I thought about not including it, but what the hell, it's miscellaneous mobile phone cleanout, everything must go!
This is my friend Olly on his Vespa that I beleive he calls "Mildred."

These are seats on the London tube. Colourful, no?