Before I pass out from all the delicious sake:
1. Perhaps even better than a hotel room robe is a hotel room kimono, especially if it's green with a dark purple tie.
2. The guide books to Tokyo are all wrong. They should just say this: Look, you will get lost. Take the subway to such and such neighborhood and just walk around. We won't bother suggesting any particular restaurants because you will never ever find them. Nor will any cabbie, so don't bother going that route because you will just embarrass him and frustrate you.
3. I have seen signs for no smoking while walking and no putting on make-up on the train. These are smart people, the Japanese.
4. Restaurants tend not to give out napkins with dinner, although they do give you a heated, warmed towel, which they do not collect. So, I guess you are to keep this on the table and wipe your fingers on it if they get sticky. Laps remain unprotected, however.
5. At the izakaya bar we happened onto after dinner this evening, they offered various grilled things. For less than $2 you could get a couple bites of the following, grilled: onion with cheese, tomatoes with cheese, Kyoto pepper, wheat gluten, rice ball, leek. We tried all those and they were all delicious. I love a bar that offers interesting snacks, especially in inexpensive, small portions.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Notes from Penang, Malaysia
I arrived in Penang on a Friday evening and checked into my $35/night hotel (the Sunway). The hotel gave me a free map, which gives a very vague idea of the layout of the downtown. It seemed only the main streets were listed. The street my hotel was located on was not listed. The concierge aka server in the dining area circled a spot on the map and said the hotel was roughly located in that spot.
With my sense of direction being as bad as it is, I was a bit trepidatious about setting off on a walk just before dark, armed only with a mediocre map. But on a 48 hour trip, one does not hang out in the hotel room.
Not too far from my hotel I happened upon a temple of some sort. A big sign said WELCOME over the door, so I wandered in. A man in a turban sitting by the door said, "go in, go in!" A couple of women told me to go ahead and go upstairs. The motherly one of the group showed me where to find a loaner scarf and where to leave my shoes. I went and had a look. Honestly, there was not much to see and I felt strange being trusted to be in their worship area all by myself.
Back downstairs, the motherly woman said they were going to a festival and asked if I'd like to come. I said, "thank you, no," and headed back in the direction of my hotel on foot. A few minutes later, a car slowed beside me and beeped. It was the 3 women. "Are you coming?" the one said. What the hell, I thought. An adventure.
They took me to another temple, where they were celebrating the birthday of the prophet Guru. Shoes off, head scarf borrowed from the communal pile, upstairs to pray. I held back, but she beckoned me over. An old woman sat on the floor, doling out small portions of some sort of sweet, mushy grain. I ate the portion offered me. A man on a dais was reading from a holy book. The four of us women retreated to the back of the room where we sat on the floor and ate the snack.
Back on the first floor, they insisted I join them for a vegetarian Indian meal. It was nothing special, but I felt compelled to eat it all. My appetite was then ruined for other Penang delicacies. But I rallied and went to the Red Garden hawker center after taking my leave of the Sikhs.
One of the Sikh women ate soupy lentils with her fingers and then used a spoon to eat custard. I think custard would have made for easier finger food. There were no napkins, only sinks.
On Saturday I took a taxi to Penang Hill. It seemed extravagent to take taxis everywhere, but they were cheap according to US standards: $14 for a 35 min. taxi ride. There are two funiculars to reach the summit of the hill. Each one goes halfway. There are several cars with one bench per car. Everyone else squishes in and stands. It's a little excrutiating, but I think the walk back down would have been even more so. It takes nearly a half hour to reach the summit.
I was extremely disappointed to discover that the capopy walk is indefinitely closed for repairs. I was really looking forward to that. To make up for it, I wandered off of the well-marked paths, but did not see anything particularly interesting.
After Penang Hill, I went to Kek Lok Si, a large Chinese Buddhist temple complex, also containing a small funicular to reach the top level housing the 50-foot Buddha. I think this was the highlight of my trip. The temple was so striking.
I felt I had to see the beach. A drive-by would have been more than sufficient. Instead I spent 2 hours on the dirty beach, waiting for the night market to open at 7pm. Turned out the night market sells mostly the same stuff they sell in Chinatown in NYC.
Sunday a.m. was a bit of a wash. I failed to budget my time appropriately to explore more of the downtown, but did see the so-called floating mosque and the snake temple (underwhelming as well) and had one more delicious meal from a hawker market. Due to a lack of clear communication, I got a taxi at 10am to take me to those 2 places and arrive at the airport at 3pm. I should have realized I was leaving waaaay too much time for this excursion and wandered around the downtown before getting a taxi. Oh well. Lesson learned. The driver suggested taking me to the Pinang Peranakan Mansion museum, which was not a bad choice. And I still did quite a bit with my half day.
Note to self: when buying a can of iced tea in Asia, first check that it doesn't contain aloe bits. YUCK.
Penang photos here.
With my sense of direction being as bad as it is, I was a bit trepidatious about setting off on a walk just before dark, armed only with a mediocre map. But on a 48 hour trip, one does not hang out in the hotel room.
Not too far from my hotel I happened upon a temple of some sort. A big sign said WELCOME over the door, so I wandered in. A man in a turban sitting by the door said, "go in, go in!" A couple of women told me to go ahead and go upstairs. The motherly one of the group showed me where to find a loaner scarf and where to leave my shoes. I went and had a look. Honestly, there was not much to see and I felt strange being trusted to be in their worship area all by myself.
Back downstairs, the motherly woman said they were going to a festival and asked if I'd like to come. I said, "thank you, no," and headed back in the direction of my hotel on foot. A few minutes later, a car slowed beside me and beeped. It was the 3 women. "Are you coming?" the one said. What the hell, I thought. An adventure.
They took me to another temple, where they were celebrating the birthday of the prophet Guru. Shoes off, head scarf borrowed from the communal pile, upstairs to pray. I held back, but she beckoned me over. An old woman sat on the floor, doling out small portions of some sort of sweet, mushy grain. I ate the portion offered me. A man on a dais was reading from a holy book. The four of us women retreated to the back of the room where we sat on the floor and ate the snack.
Back on the first floor, they insisted I join them for a vegetarian Indian meal. It was nothing special, but I felt compelled to eat it all. My appetite was then ruined for other Penang delicacies. But I rallied and went to the Red Garden hawker center after taking my leave of the Sikhs.
One of the Sikh women ate soupy lentils with her fingers and then used a spoon to eat custard. I think custard would have made for easier finger food. There were no napkins, only sinks.
On Saturday I took a taxi to Penang Hill. It seemed extravagent to take taxis everywhere, but they were cheap according to US standards: $14 for a 35 min. taxi ride. There are two funiculars to reach the summit of the hill. Each one goes halfway. There are several cars with one bench per car. Everyone else squishes in and stands. It's a little excrutiating, but I think the walk back down would have been even more so. It takes nearly a half hour to reach the summit.
I was extremely disappointed to discover that the capopy walk is indefinitely closed for repairs. I was really looking forward to that. To make up for it, I wandered off of the well-marked paths, but did not see anything particularly interesting.
After Penang Hill, I went to Kek Lok Si, a large Chinese Buddhist temple complex, also containing a small funicular to reach the top level housing the 50-foot Buddha. I think this was the highlight of my trip. The temple was so striking.
I felt I had to see the beach. A drive-by would have been more than sufficient. Instead I spent 2 hours on the dirty beach, waiting for the night market to open at 7pm. Turned out the night market sells mostly the same stuff they sell in Chinatown in NYC.
Sunday a.m. was a bit of a wash. I failed to budget my time appropriately to explore more of the downtown, but did see the so-called floating mosque and the snake temple (underwhelming as well) and had one more delicious meal from a hawker market. Due to a lack of clear communication, I got a taxi at 10am to take me to those 2 places and arrive at the airport at 3pm. I should have realized I was leaving waaaay too much time for this excursion and wandered around the downtown before getting a taxi. Oh well. Lesson learned. The driver suggested taking me to the Pinang Peranakan Mansion museum, which was not a bad choice. And I still did quite a bit with my half day.
Note to self: when buying a can of iced tea in Asia, first check that it doesn't contain aloe bits. YUCK.
Penang photos here.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
In which I talk about something completely different
You may get a pair of chopsticks or you may get a fork and spoon with your meal, but I have yet to get a knife with a meal.
Food is cut with the spoon. Presumably nothing is so tough that it needs to be sawed. And if it is uncuttable, you stab the entire piece with the fork and bite off of it, perhaps holding the spoon underneath it, in case it falls. Imagine doing this with a chicken wing.
I thought in Asia people picked up their bowls of noodles and slurped them into their mouths. It is possible that that is the case, but when it comes to a lunch dish that consists of a plate of noodles topped with slices of pork, it is not to slurped. I *think* you are supposed to pick up the noodles with your chopsticks and place them in the soup spoon and then put this in your mouth.
Or, I'm doing it all wrong and there will soon be another international incident.
I suspect that people have their work manners on when I'm dining with them at lunchtime. It was mentioned when I was taken for fish head curry that if my colleagues were not worried about getting messy, they'd be picking at the bones with their hands. I have to hope that they use their hands *sometimes.* I really can't imagine eating a whole chili crab speared on a fork.
For about $2.15, I can get a big cup of freshly juiced juice. I'm a novice at this juice thing. I never get it at home since it's so expensive. I've been wanting a juicer, though. It seems that not all fruits are good mixes. Today I got pineapple and kiwi. It tasted good, but it kept separating.
I thought I was going to be getting bubble tea every day, but juice it is.
Food is cut with the spoon. Presumably nothing is so tough that it needs to be sawed. And if it is uncuttable, you stab the entire piece with the fork and bite off of it, perhaps holding the spoon underneath it, in case it falls. Imagine doing this with a chicken wing.
I thought in Asia people picked up their bowls of noodles and slurped them into their mouths. It is possible that that is the case, but when it comes to a lunch dish that consists of a plate of noodles topped with slices of pork, it is not to slurped. I *think* you are supposed to pick up the noodles with your chopsticks and place them in the soup spoon and then put this in your mouth.
Or, I'm doing it all wrong and there will soon be another international incident.
I suspect that people have their work manners on when I'm dining with them at lunchtime. It was mentioned when I was taken for fish head curry that if my colleagues were not worried about getting messy, they'd be picking at the bones with their hands. I have to hope that they use their hands *sometimes.* I really can't imagine eating a whole chili crab speared on a fork.
For about $2.15, I can get a big cup of freshly juiced juice. I'm a novice at this juice thing. I never get it at home since it's so expensive. I've been wanting a juicer, though. It seems that not all fruits are good mixes. Today I got pineapple and kiwi. It tasted good, but it kept separating.
I thought I was going to be getting bubble tea every day, but juice it is.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
In which the bumbling American makes a faux pas
I knew about the business card culture in Asia. Rather, I thought I knew about the business card culture in Asia. I knew about how you are supposed to hand over your card using both hands, print facing the recipient. When you receive the card, you are to look it over and then carefully put it in your breast pocket. I'm not sure where it's appropriate for women to put them.
What I did NOT know is that in Asia, business cards are handed out like relief supplies after a flood (said one of my Asian colleagues). My colleagues in the Singapore office said they go through boxes and boxes of cards every year.
I have barely made a dent in my own box of cards, which I received nearly five years ago. I carry around maybe 10 cards at most at any given time and those 10 cards tend to remain in my wallet for months at a time. As a web editor I don't encounter too many people with whom I exchange cards.
Last night, some colleagues invited me along to some industry parties. I should preface this by also adding that last week when I arrived, the office manager asked if I needed her to order me any cards. At the time I thought that a strange question and I replied that no, I was good. (I had many in my wallet. Ten or twelve even!)
So, I go to these two parties and my colleagues are exchanging cards with contacts left and right and they introduce me as a person working on the web and these people are handing me their cards and I am saying: "Thank you, but I'm not actually in the industry. Please keep your card to give to someone else so that you don't run out of them." Neither of the people I'm with (both Singapore natives) is telling me this is the wrong thing to say, I might add.
Apparently what is even worse than refusing a proferred card is implying that you are too good to take the person's card.
The Singapore office found my actions extremely amusing and they laughed heartily at me. I protested that they ought to have warned me! This made them laugh even harder. If they weren't being so welcoming in every other regard, I would have to hold a grudge.
What I did NOT know is that in Asia, business cards are handed out like relief supplies after a flood (said one of my Asian colleagues). My colleagues in the Singapore office said they go through boxes and boxes of cards every year.
I have barely made a dent in my own box of cards, which I received nearly five years ago. I carry around maybe 10 cards at most at any given time and those 10 cards tend to remain in my wallet for months at a time. As a web editor I don't encounter too many people with whom I exchange cards.
Last night, some colleagues invited me along to some industry parties. I should preface this by also adding that last week when I arrived, the office manager asked if I needed her to order me any cards. At the time I thought that a strange question and I replied that no, I was good. (I had many in my wallet. Ten or twelve even!)
So, I go to these two parties and my colleagues are exchanging cards with contacts left and right and they introduce me as a person working on the web and these people are handing me their cards and I am saying: "Thank you, but I'm not actually in the industry. Please keep your card to give to someone else so that you don't run out of them." Neither of the people I'm with (both Singapore natives) is telling me this is the wrong thing to say, I might add.
Apparently what is even worse than refusing a proferred card is implying that you are too good to take the person's card.
The Singapore office found my actions extremely amusing and they laughed heartily at me. I protested that they ought to have warned me! This made them laugh even harder. If they weren't being so welcoming in every other regard, I would have to hold a grudge.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Chinatown, etc.
There is absolutely no tipping in Singapore, except maybe to round up to the next dollar when taking a taxi. It makes it easier to pay, but it feels so wrong to me.
Men in Singapore must serve in the military for 2 years when they turn 18. So, they don't begin university until they are 20 or 21. For the next 10 years, every year they have to go for yearly service, which can last from 1-14 days. They find out when they must report at least 6 months in advance so they can arrange for it with their jobs. The government pays their companies for their time. Women don't have to do any of this, but they can join the military and serve as officers if they so choose. I wonder if this means that women begin university 2 years before men do.
I'm not really minding living out of a hotel room. It's kind of nice having a maid! Although the price I pay is that every day I move the comfy chair by the desk (where the ethernet cable is) and every day the maid moves it back.
The malls are jam packed on Friday and Saturday nights. Good thing I decided to eat dinner early last night. The wait to get in to the sushi place was only about 15 minutes at 6pm. I was seated at the sushi counter, which is partly why going out for sushi alone is not at all awkward. The sushi chefs kept smiling at me and making small talk. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear them very well so I just smiled and nodded a lot. God knows what I agreed to.
I have been trying various iced desserts, of course. It seems that when I see a flavored soft serve listed on a menu, it's not the soft serve itself that is flavored, but rather a syrup that is poured over a vanilla one. I have had the sesame one and a hojiki (I think that's what it was) one, which was a Japanese tea. Both were really good. I might get the soft serve in a cup in the future, though, because I wind up having to lick off all the syrup.
I finally saw some black people today: fellow tourists in Chinatown. Chinatown was not as exciting as I remember it being on my last trip here with my former company. I think maybe the reason I went to Chinatown so often on that trip is because that office was right on the border of Chinatown.
I will have to go back to Chinatown near the end of my stay, however, to go to Dr. Fish Spa. I don't want the fish to eat off my pedicure, but I definitely want to give them a tasty meal of my dead feet skin.
Men in Singapore must serve in the military for 2 years when they turn 18. So, they don't begin university until they are 20 or 21. For the next 10 years, every year they have to go for yearly service, which can last from 1-14 days. They find out when they must report at least 6 months in advance so they can arrange for it with their jobs. The government pays their companies for their time. Women don't have to do any of this, but they can join the military and serve as officers if they so choose. I wonder if this means that women begin university 2 years before men do.
I'm not really minding living out of a hotel room. It's kind of nice having a maid! Although the price I pay is that every day I move the comfy chair by the desk (where the ethernet cable is) and every day the maid moves it back.
The malls are jam packed on Friday and Saturday nights. Good thing I decided to eat dinner early last night. The wait to get in to the sushi place was only about 15 minutes at 6pm. I was seated at the sushi counter, which is partly why going out for sushi alone is not at all awkward. The sushi chefs kept smiling at me and making small talk. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear them very well so I just smiled and nodded a lot. God knows what I agreed to.
I have been trying various iced desserts, of course. It seems that when I see a flavored soft serve listed on a menu, it's not the soft serve itself that is flavored, but rather a syrup that is poured over a vanilla one. I have had the sesame one and a hojiki (I think that's what it was) one, which was a Japanese tea. Both were really good. I might get the soft serve in a cup in the future, though, because I wind up having to lick off all the syrup.
I finally saw some black people today: fellow tourists in Chinatown. Chinatown was not as exciting as I remember it being on my last trip here with my former company. I think maybe the reason I went to Chinatown so often on that trip is because that office was right on the border of Chinatown.
I will have to go back to Chinatown near the end of my stay, however, to go to Dr. Fish Spa. I don't want the fish to eat off my pedicure, but I definitely want to give them a tasty meal of my dead feet skin.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Another post about food -- surprise, surprise!
Now I think I understand why there are grocery stores in the malls. People don't do much cooking here so they probably don't need to buy a lot of food at a time. And why should they since there are good restaurants all over the place, especially in the malls?
Alcohol is pretty expensive because of the taxes, presumably. I bought a bottle of Australian Pinot Noir for $25 US dollars and it tastes like crap.
There's a bubble tea shop right across from the office. How ingenious is this? You can ask for the tea to be 25%, 50%, 75% or 100% sweet. They also offer small or large pearls.
The Singaporean preference is to drink black tea with sweetened condensed milk. It is surprisingly tasty. The office goes through so much of the stuff that they just leave it out on the counter. The kitchen at the office also has stocked cans of oolong tea which is nice and strong and not sweet. Some of the other offerings, like chrysanthamum tea, I have not yet tried.
The ladies' bathroom at the office contains one stall that is a hole in the floor. I don't know why this surprised me, but it did.
Alcohol is pretty expensive because of the taxes, presumably. I bought a bottle of Australian Pinot Noir for $25 US dollars and it tastes like crap.
There's a bubble tea shop right across from the office. How ingenious is this? You can ask for the tea to be 25%, 50%, 75% or 100% sweet. They also offer small or large pearls.
The Singaporean preference is to drink black tea with sweetened condensed milk. It is surprisingly tasty. The office goes through so much of the stuff that they just leave it out on the counter. The kitchen at the office also has stocked cans of oolong tea which is nice and strong and not sweet. Some of the other offerings, like chrysanthamum tea, I have not yet tried.
The ladies' bathroom at the office contains one stall that is a hole in the floor. I don't know why this surprised me, but it did.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Eating way too much
First impressions of Singapore:
Despite the heat and humidity, many locals are wearing jackets and tights. I'm not sure if it's an attempt to keep the sun off or if they are impervious to the heat.
There are Japanese products at the drug store advertising their skin whitening properties, including a cleanser (cleans off pigment?) and a 45 SPF face lotion (that not only protects but also whitens?).
On Kevin Utter's recommendation, I tried the chicken rice, which is indeed truly delicious. A hunk of ginger was hiding inside the rice.
While sitting in the Suntec mall, I saw a little girl with a bob and then another, longer layer of hair underneath. It was basically a rat tail, the width of her neck. Another kid, barely old enough to walk, was in flip flops. She flopped several times. Malls are EVERYWHERE. They stay open late, there are nice restaurants inside them and they are huge.
Two malls I've been in have a Carrefour inside. This surprised me at first, but today at work I found out that people don't cook much here, so I suppose they just pick up odds and ends at the grocery stores while out window shopping at the mall.
Unfortunately, the Carrefour I went into yesterday reeked of dourian. I really do not understand how people can eat a fruit that smells so horrible.
When I checked in, I found out that the breakfast buffet was included in my room rate. It is a combo of western and eastern. I had: fresh fruit, European style yogurt, pork bun, chicken bun, hash brown, bacon, cheese, whole grain bread, roasted tomatoes, mini veggie spring roll. I was so excited that I was going to have this selection for breakfast every day. And then I came back to my room this evening to a letter stating the hotel regretfully informs me that my room rate does not include the breakfast buffet. So sad. Probably for the best, though. I did find a small fruit bowl in my room this evening as well. I guess I will be having an apple for breakfast tomorrow, not a full spread. Sigh...
I should really not complain. The food has been delicious and plentiful. And I can see why people don't cook much. There are good and cheap options everywhere I turn. A colleague took me for dim sum at lunch today. There is dim sum within a short walking distance from the office! That pretty much made my day.
I took myself out for a sushi dinner tonight. I think the norm here might be to fill out a slip of paper selecting what pieces of sushi one wants. I do not understand why that's not the norm at home. I often make a list of what we want and then read it to the waitress. At our regular sushi place, I get teased for writing it down. Are people expected to remember??
Despite the heat and humidity, many locals are wearing jackets and tights. I'm not sure if it's an attempt to keep the sun off or if they are impervious to the heat.
There are Japanese products at the drug store advertising their skin whitening properties, including a cleanser (cleans off pigment?) and a 45 SPF face lotion (that not only protects but also whitens?).
On Kevin Utter's recommendation, I tried the chicken rice, which is indeed truly delicious. A hunk of ginger was hiding inside the rice.
While sitting in the Suntec mall, I saw a little girl with a bob and then another, longer layer of hair underneath. It was basically a rat tail, the width of her neck. Another kid, barely old enough to walk, was in flip flops. She flopped several times. Malls are EVERYWHERE. They stay open late, there are nice restaurants inside them and they are huge.
Two malls I've been in have a Carrefour inside. This surprised me at first, but today at work I found out that people don't cook much here, so I suppose they just pick up odds and ends at the grocery stores while out window shopping at the mall.
Unfortunately, the Carrefour I went into yesterday reeked of dourian. I really do not understand how people can eat a fruit that smells so horrible.
When I checked in, I found out that the breakfast buffet was included in my room rate. It is a combo of western and eastern. I had: fresh fruit, European style yogurt, pork bun, chicken bun, hash brown, bacon, cheese, whole grain bread, roasted tomatoes, mini veggie spring roll. I was so excited that I was going to have this selection for breakfast every day. And then I came back to my room this evening to a letter stating the hotel regretfully informs me that my room rate does not include the breakfast buffet. So sad. Probably for the best, though. I did find a small fruit bowl in my room this evening as well. I guess I will be having an apple for breakfast tomorrow, not a full spread. Sigh...
I should really not complain. The food has been delicious and plentiful. And I can see why people don't cook much. There are good and cheap options everywhere I turn. A colleague took me for dim sum at lunch today. There is dim sum within a short walking distance from the office! That pretty much made my day.
I took myself out for a sushi dinner tonight. I think the norm here might be to fill out a slip of paper selecting what pieces of sushi one wants. I do not understand why that's not the norm at home. I often make a list of what we want and then read it to the waitress. At our regular sushi place, I get teased for writing it down. Are people expected to remember??
Saturday, October 24, 2009
The Beijing airport is lovely
(That's a lie.)
In fact, it's a rather confusing airport. But it's much less confusing to me now that I have spent 8 hours there. It's probably a good thing I did have 8 hours to sort out my new connection (after missing the original one) since figuring that out was more than slightly complicated.
1. Could not go through customs because did not have visa.
2. By the time got special dispensation to go through customs, bags were no longer on carousel. Baggage office by carousel had no info. Sent us to find Continental desk.
3. Air China desk said we would maybe, maybe not get on the 11:30 pm flight to Singapore, but to come back at 10pm to see. It was then 4pm.
4. "What do we do if we have to wait until tomorrow?" we asked. "You can sleep on the benches if you don't have any money to get a hotel room," the Air China employee said. How generous. However, it was not the money issue, but the visa issue. We could not leave the airport.
5. Finally located baggage at Oversize Baggage Dropoff counter.
6. Sought out Continental office to find out if there were any other flights we could take. Finding the office was perhaps the trickiest of all since it was located behind a door marked EXIT.
7. Were told that we could actually leave the airport and stay in a hotel if need be, as long as we were going to be in China for less than 24 hours. Much relieved.
In the end, we got on the flight and I'm here in Singapore and the sun just came up and my room is on the 19th floor. My view includes two churches.
I don't know how I would have stayed awake in Beijing if it weren't for my new friend, a 64-year-old man from Easton, PA, who was also trying to get to Singapore.
My room includes not only the Gideon Bible but also The Teaching of Buddha. Thankfully I'm nosy because I just found the hair dryer in the desk drawer.
The Beijing airport has numerous stations for filling water bottles. Many employees had water bottles or bottles of tea.
The green tea I got on the Air China flight was amazing.
My seatmate on the plane poured his fruit cup into the coffee cup that came with his tray and drank it like fruit soup.
After 36 hours of traveling, my hair looks as good as it does on most days. However, the customs folk in China still asked me to take off my glasses and smile while they squinted at me. Finally, the one agent said, "It's her."
My hotel room is quite spacious. There is a fridge and a kettle and even a scale. But there are no shelves in the bathroom.
I may get a pedicure today. I really don't like getting my toenails clipped, but I will just clip them in advance and request they not do it. My feet look frightful, so it must be done.
In fact, it's a rather confusing airport. But it's much less confusing to me now that I have spent 8 hours there. It's probably a good thing I did have 8 hours to sort out my new connection (after missing the original one) since figuring that out was more than slightly complicated.
1. Could not go through customs because did not have visa.
2. By the time got special dispensation to go through customs, bags were no longer on carousel. Baggage office by carousel had no info. Sent us to find Continental desk.
3. Air China desk said we would maybe, maybe not get on the 11:30 pm flight to Singapore, but to come back at 10pm to see. It was then 4pm.
4. "What do we do if we have to wait until tomorrow?" we asked. "You can sleep on the benches if you don't have any money to get a hotel room," the Air China employee said. How generous. However, it was not the money issue, but the visa issue. We could not leave the airport.
5. Finally located baggage at Oversize Baggage Dropoff counter.
6. Sought out Continental office to find out if there were any other flights we could take. Finding the office was perhaps the trickiest of all since it was located behind a door marked EXIT.
7. Were told that we could actually leave the airport and stay in a hotel if need be, as long as we were going to be in China for less than 24 hours. Much relieved.
In the end, we got on the flight and I'm here in Singapore and the sun just came up and my room is on the 19th floor. My view includes two churches.
I don't know how I would have stayed awake in Beijing if it weren't for my new friend, a 64-year-old man from Easton, PA, who was also trying to get to Singapore.
My room includes not only the Gideon Bible but also The Teaching of Buddha. Thankfully I'm nosy because I just found the hair dryer in the desk drawer.
The Beijing airport has numerous stations for filling water bottles. Many employees had water bottles or bottles of tea.
The green tea I got on the Air China flight was amazing.
My seatmate on the plane poured his fruit cup into the coffee cup that came with his tray and drank it like fruit soup.
After 36 hours of traveling, my hair looks as good as it does on most days. However, the customs folk in China still asked me to take off my glasses and smile while they squinted at me. Finally, the one agent said, "It's her."
My hotel room is quite spacious. There is a fridge and a kettle and even a scale. But there are no shelves in the bathroom.
I may get a pedicure today. I really don't like getting my toenails clipped, but I will just clip them in advance and request they not do it. My feet look frightful, so it must be done.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
The end of a great trip
I think about how wonderful it would be to live in a city where everyone bikes. Groups of adults bike together and it seems perfectly normal whereas at home the oldest group of people on bikes would be under age 16. And they would probably be considered a menace. Then again, part of the allure has been the perfect early fall weather. I would prefer not to solely rely on a bike for transportation if it were 40 degrees and raining.
Today we went to Christiania, which is a hippie commune on a small man-made island. At one time the residents has seceeded from Denmark. Now they are supposedly moving towards rejoining Denmark, but it is still an enclave where outsiders are welcome to visit. One can view their art and buy their beer and hash and hang out, but no photos are allowed at all, which of course drove me nuts.
The craft beer loving folk in Copenhagen is a small community. We keep running into the same people. I love that. I also love that both times we've gone to Olbaren (which translates to beer bar) people have been so friendly.
In case it is not apparent from all I've written from here thus far, Copenhagen is a GREAT beer town. The best part? I don't think most people in the US realize that, so our fellows are not flocking here.
But I assure you, if you come here for beer, you will not be disappointed. Just save up plenty because it's every bit as expensive as you've been led to believe.
Many places serve dinner prix fixe only and the prix tends to be around $40 for an entree only. A local subway ride costs $4. A cup of tea costs $5. A delicious consommé that Jeff ordered was $20. Anyway, you get the picture.
I'm so glad we came on this trip. When I was on my way here I was almost apologetic about why we were coming. And now I feel guilty about that. Copenhagen is great and I'm even a little teary-eyed about departing.
Oh and ps: Tivoli really is just an amusement park. We have those at home.
Today we went to Christiania, which is a hippie commune on a small man-made island. At one time the residents has seceeded from Denmark. Now they are supposedly moving towards rejoining Denmark, but it is still an enclave where outsiders are welcome to visit. One can view their art and buy their beer and hash and hang out, but no photos are allowed at all, which of course drove me nuts.
The craft beer loving folk in Copenhagen is a small community. We keep running into the same people. I love that. I also love that both times we've gone to Olbaren (which translates to beer bar) people have been so friendly.
In case it is not apparent from all I've written from here thus far, Copenhagen is a GREAT beer town. The best part? I don't think most people in the US realize that, so our fellows are not flocking here.
But I assure you, if you come here for beer, you will not be disappointed. Just save up plenty because it's every bit as expensive as you've been led to believe.
Many places serve dinner prix fixe only and the prix tends to be around $40 for an entree only. A local subway ride costs $4. A cup of tea costs $5. A delicious consommé that Jeff ordered was $20. Anyway, you get the picture.
I'm so glad we came on this trip. When I was on my way here I was almost apologetic about why we were coming. And now I feel guilty about that. Copenhagen is great and I'm even a little teary-eyed about departing.
Oh and ps: Tivoli really is just an amusement park. We have those at home.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Eating, drinking, biking aka day 3 in Copenhagen
It turns out that all the bikes we thought were not locked up actually have little locks that stick a bar through the spokes on the back wheel. When we went to retrieve the bikes we had rented from our hotel we could not figure out where to insert the key until we were shown. A woman, a fellow guest, from South Africa was in the dark about it as well.
She said she was on her own for the day while her husband went to a conference, so we invited her along with us to get smorsbord I think they call it here. I'm unclear on whether it's the same as smorgesbord because here it means simply small open-face sandwiches.
Jeff got the herring and I got a selection of three: chicken with crispy Parma ham, herring, and roast beef. All were exquisite. We also shared a big bottle of local beer. The menu did not specify the types of beer sold because, the waiter said, it depends on what they brew and send over. The beer was brown and a little sweet and apparently is it's own style.
I have only seen two people wearing biking gear. Everyone else is on a city bike, wearing heels, trousers, skirts, etc.
Our hotel did not have enough helmets for everyone and they did not seem too concerned about it.
The bikes have higher handlebars and a cover over the chain -- perfect for city riding. The bike lanes are fairly pervasive, but not completely. There are even turn lanes for bikes. I am not certain where bikers are supposed to go when the bike lane turns into a car turn lane and the bikers wish to continue straight.
Last night we went to a brewpub for dinner where all the food is made with beer. We then went to a local pub where we arrived at 11:30. The place seemed pretty dead and we expected it would be closing soon. The bartender was incredibly knowledgable and told us all about the Danish beer selections. Anything similar to Belgians he frowned upon, though. He said in Belgium he only drinks Lambics (and yes he's had Lambic and chocolate stout and he likes it).
We mentioned that we were on our personal beer tour of the city. He said, "hold on, then. I'm going to call a preeminent Danish brewer and a guest brewer from Vermont." He was on the phone briefly and then said, "okay, they said they'd be here in 35 seconds."
At 2 am, long after Jacob had shut he door to any new entrants, the group that had magically appeared at Olbaren started drifting homeward. Shaun, the guest brewer from Vermont, is starting his own brewery in March, which will be called Hill Farmstead Brewery. He doesn't like Belgian beers either though.
He and Jacob were quite fond of a 2.5% smoky sailor's beer, which Jacob insisted I drink one of (on the house) before I was allowed to order another beer. It started growing on me but the smoky burps later on were horrible. I wanted to try a large bottle of Mickeller Beer Geek Breakfast, which is made with weasel shit coffee, Jacob told me. I said I would need to split it with someone, though. Jacob said he would be happy to. I don't know how trustworthy my palate was by then but i remember it being an excellent and full-bodied beer.
Tonight we will hit a few more places, including plan b, where Jacob says he'll be working. Oh crap... we researched all the bars but no restaurants. Now we must find somewhere to eat before tonight's pubcrawl.
She said she was on her own for the day while her husband went to a conference, so we invited her along with us to get smorsbord I think they call it here. I'm unclear on whether it's the same as smorgesbord because here it means simply small open-face sandwiches.
Jeff got the herring and I got a selection of three: chicken with crispy Parma ham, herring, and roast beef. All were exquisite. We also shared a big bottle of local beer. The menu did not specify the types of beer sold because, the waiter said, it depends on what they brew and send over. The beer was brown and a little sweet and apparently is it's own style.
I have only seen two people wearing biking gear. Everyone else is on a city bike, wearing heels, trousers, skirts, etc.
Our hotel did not have enough helmets for everyone and they did not seem too concerned about it.
The bikes have higher handlebars and a cover over the chain -- perfect for city riding. The bike lanes are fairly pervasive, but not completely. There are even turn lanes for bikes. I am not certain where bikers are supposed to go when the bike lane turns into a car turn lane and the bikers wish to continue straight.
Last night we went to a brewpub for dinner where all the food is made with beer. We then went to a local pub where we arrived at 11:30. The place seemed pretty dead and we expected it would be closing soon. The bartender was incredibly knowledgable and told us all about the Danish beer selections. Anything similar to Belgians he frowned upon, though. He said in Belgium he only drinks Lambics (and yes he's had Lambic and chocolate stout and he likes it).
We mentioned that we were on our personal beer tour of the city. He said, "hold on, then. I'm going to call a preeminent Danish brewer and a guest brewer from Vermont." He was on the phone briefly and then said, "okay, they said they'd be here in 35 seconds."
At 2 am, long after Jacob had shut he door to any new entrants, the group that had magically appeared at Olbaren started drifting homeward. Shaun, the guest brewer from Vermont, is starting his own brewery in March, which will be called Hill Farmstead Brewery. He doesn't like Belgian beers either though.
He and Jacob were quite fond of a 2.5% smoky sailor's beer, which Jacob insisted I drink one of (on the house) before I was allowed to order another beer. It started growing on me but the smoky burps later on were horrible. I wanted to try a large bottle of Mickeller Beer Geek Breakfast, which is made with weasel shit coffee, Jacob told me. I said I would need to split it with someone, though. Jacob said he would be happy to. I don't know how trustworthy my palate was by then but i remember it being an excellent and full-bodied beer.
Tonight we will hit a few more places, including plan b, where Jacob says he'll be working. Oh crap... we researched all the bars but no restaurants. Now we must find somewhere to eat before tonight's pubcrawl.
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