On Sunday 26th June- Paul Harland and I will be jumping out of an aeroplane in Oxfordshire and we need your help in reaching our fund raising target.
As some of you may know, I unfortunately became quite unwell with a liver problem last year…..now, thankfully I am in recovery we would both like to try and help people with liver problems by raising some money for The British Liver Trust by doing something utterly stupid-jumping out of a plane.
http://www.justgiving.com/GemsandPaul
Liver disease kills more men than Parkinson's disease and more women than cancer of the cervix and it is on the increase. The British Liver Trust is the UK's only national liver disease charity for adults. Through its Helpline, specialist publications and website, the Trust aims to raise the profile of all liver diseases, encourage prevention and achieve greater recognition, better support and wider understanding for people with liver disease
Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to the charity and make sure Gift Aid is reclaimed on every eligible donation by a UK taxpayer. So it’s the most efficient way to donate - I raise more, whilst saving time and cutting costs for the charity.
Warm Regards,
G & P
PS-if any of you are interested in joining us then please speak to me and I can give you all the details J
Thursday, 24 February 2011
Sunday, 9 May 2010
The Shower/Egg Theory - disambiguation
A number of people have recently got in contact with me to demand more information on the Shower/Egg Theory. This rising clamour for advice has the potential to spill over into riots. Therefore, even though there is already a wealth of reference material in the public domain, as the founder of the theory I feel it is now time to clarify my own views, and my current understanding of the topic, not to mention its profound consequences.
The Shower/Egg Theory can be stated simply as follows:
A person must take at least (X+1) showers in a given day, where X represents the number of Egg-based meals consumed on that day.
So to put that in a practical context, let’s say that a random individual wakes up in the morning and promptly takes a shower. At this point he can obviously be considered to be clean.
However, if that same person were then to consume an Egg-based meal such as scrambled eggs, he is considered to be carrying what is termed a ‘Shower/Egg deficit’ of 1 (Unity). Inevitably, if this condition persists, the remainder of his day will be associated with discomfort, anxiety and misfortune.
The basic solution for that person is to take another shower, thus correcting his Shower/Egg deficit. In other words, we must all keep a strict eye on the number of Egg-based meals we consume in a day, and ensure we take one more shower than that number.
It is important to review the government guidelines on what constitutes an Egg-based meal. ‘To be considered Egg- based, a meal must retain a clear state of “egginess”; that is to say, a mushy, unpalatable, yellowish consistency and/or a faintly nauseating poultry-like scent.’ Egg-based meals therefore include, but are not limited to, Fry-ups, boiled eggs, omelettes, egg-fried rice etc.
I am not ashamed to say that I found myself carrying an egg deficit earlier this evening after an unplanned omelette session. I would describe my psychological state at that time to have been troubled; I found myself feeling queasy, confused, unable to focus on simple everyday tasks… my speech became heavily slurred, indicating retardedness. Physically I began to shake and my decision-making ability, usually so just and sensible, became erratic and potentially dangerous.
These are known side-effects of egg deficit. As I became aware of the problem, I quickly took a shower and regained my usual senses.
For more information on this, or any of my other theories, please respond to me, Paul Harland, directly.
The Shower/Egg Theory can be stated simply as follows:
A person must take at least (X+1) showers in a given day, where X represents the number of Egg-based meals consumed on that day.
So to put that in a practical context, let’s say that a random individual wakes up in the morning and promptly takes a shower. At this point he can obviously be considered to be clean.
However, if that same person were then to consume an Egg-based meal such as scrambled eggs, he is considered to be carrying what is termed a ‘Shower/Egg deficit’ of 1 (Unity). Inevitably, if this condition persists, the remainder of his day will be associated with discomfort, anxiety and misfortune.
The basic solution for that person is to take another shower, thus correcting his Shower/Egg deficit. In other words, we must all keep a strict eye on the number of Egg-based meals we consume in a day, and ensure we take one more shower than that number.
It is important to review the government guidelines on what constitutes an Egg-based meal. ‘To be considered Egg- based, a meal must retain a clear state of “egginess”; that is to say, a mushy, unpalatable, yellowish consistency and/or a faintly nauseating poultry-like scent.’ Egg-based meals therefore include, but are not limited to, Fry-ups, boiled eggs, omelettes, egg-fried rice etc.
I am not ashamed to say that I found myself carrying an egg deficit earlier this evening after an unplanned omelette session. I would describe my psychological state at that time to have been troubled; I found myself feeling queasy, confused, unable to focus on simple everyday tasks… my speech became heavily slurred, indicating retardedness. Physically I began to shake and my decision-making ability, usually so just and sensible, became erratic and potentially dangerous.
These are known side-effects of egg deficit. As I became aware of the problem, I quickly took a shower and regained my usual senses.
For more information on this, or any of my other theories, please respond to me, Paul Harland, directly.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Cat and Brick Group annual review.
These are the annual financial reports for Cat and Brick Insurance, for the review of the Cat and Brick Group Board.
They have been verified by the CEO Paul Robert Harland and the shareholders have deemed the results "pleasing".
This year Cat and Brick Insurance expanded its total number of customers from 0 to 1. This represents an infinite increase in the number of customers in the UK. It has been commented that this remarkable percentage rise is a key indicator of a recovery in the grass roots economy.
Demographically speaking the majority of our current customers are irritable, pirate-like folk working in the catering industry.
As at the end of March our customers have made zero claims against The Policy. Our profits are therefore equal to 100% of revenue. This record is remarkable and quite clearly the envy of all other insurance brokers in the country.
The number of shareholders in Cat and Brick insurance has remained comfortingly consistent, with a total of 1. Majority shareholder Paul Robert Harland is currently in possession of all 1 billion shares, which have an (estimated) market value of £1.27 each.
Currently none of our customers have registered any complaints about our claims process in the past year. It is assumed based on this that the claims team head-count is sufficient.
At the current time we have no staff and therefore labour overheads are non-existent.
Charitable donations this year have already exceeded £20.00.
At present it has not been considered necessary by the management to specify The Policy in writing. This streamlined and flexible concept is seen as ground-breaking in the Insurance industry. It is perfectly aligned to our marketing themes for 2010.
Our marketing this year has been strongly themed around the 'Don't ask - just buy' slogan. Our growth in market share attests to the unique, edgy impact that this message carries.
The existence of a healthy customer base has enabled us to operate in a more tax-efficient manner – we no longer have to pay insignificance tax, the tax on pointless and ill-fated enterprises that lack the potential for future growth.
The shady, Spanish Santander Group evidently now consider us a direct opponent and a business threat. This is demonstrated by the unexplained, persistent appearance of flat-chested girls at our recruitment drives, dressing up in giant white jaguar outfits, making a mockery of our sharp new branding, and undermining our interviewing methods by responding to each question with the word, ‘Que?’ It is clear they want us out of this market. They will not succeed.
For more information, if you wish to purchase Insurance or to make a fair offer to any of our shareholders please get in touch with our Customer relations team.
They have been verified by the CEO Paul Robert Harland and the shareholders have deemed the results "pleasing".
This year Cat and Brick Insurance expanded its total number of customers from 0 to 1. This represents an infinite increase in the number of customers in the UK. It has been commented that this remarkable percentage rise is a key indicator of a recovery in the grass roots economy.
Demographically speaking the majority of our current customers are irritable, pirate-like folk working in the catering industry.
As at the end of March our customers have made zero claims against The Policy. Our profits are therefore equal to 100% of revenue. This record is remarkable and quite clearly the envy of all other insurance brokers in the country.
The number of shareholders in Cat and Brick insurance has remained comfortingly consistent, with a total of 1. Majority shareholder Paul Robert Harland is currently in possession of all 1 billion shares, which have an (estimated) market value of £1.27 each.
Currently none of our customers have registered any complaints about our claims process in the past year. It is assumed based on this that the claims team head-count is sufficient.
At the current time we have no staff and therefore labour overheads are non-existent.
Charitable donations this year have already exceeded £20.00.
At present it has not been considered necessary by the management to specify The Policy in writing. This streamlined and flexible concept is seen as ground-breaking in the Insurance industry. It is perfectly aligned to our marketing themes for 2010.
Our marketing this year has been strongly themed around the 'Don't ask - just buy' slogan. Our growth in market share attests to the unique, edgy impact that this message carries.
The existence of a healthy customer base has enabled us to operate in a more tax-efficient manner – we no longer have to pay insignificance tax, the tax on pointless and ill-fated enterprises that lack the potential for future growth.
The shady, Spanish Santander Group evidently now consider us a direct opponent and a business threat. This is demonstrated by the unexplained, persistent appearance of flat-chested girls at our recruitment drives, dressing up in giant white jaguar outfits, making a mockery of our sharp new branding, and undermining our interviewing methods by responding to each question with the word, ‘Que?’ It is clear they want us out of this market. They will not succeed.
For more information, if you wish to purchase Insurance or to make a fair offer to any of our shareholders please get in touch with our Customer relations team.
Monday, 28 December 2009
Disaster Appeal - Heathy needs your help
This Christmas no doubt you are enjoying precious time spent in the company of your loved ones, taking advantage of extensive food and wine, and laughing happily.
But for some there will be no celebration this Christmas – only the ongoing battle to survive. Heathy is just one such individual.
By modern standards, Heathy never had a chance in life. Before he was six months old, when his family were away on holiday, he fell out of a tree and got his paw caught on some barbed wire. A week later he was discovered, thin and not having any fun at all. Fortunately he was brought back from the brink, thanks to emergency medical care and a ridiculous bandage that made one leg twice as long as the other, and that stuck out like a handle when he tried to curl up. Tragically he lost 2 toes in the incident.
Over the years his senses have gradually dwindled – his teeth are weak, his hearing is thought to have completely gone, his whiskers have started coming out in all the wrong places. And this Christmas he has suffered a loss of eyesight, as his retina has slipped off his eye.
As a result he is a shadow of his former self. He can see no prospect of a return to his glorious days of catching mice, then allowing them to slip through the gaps in his teeth.
------
But you can make a difference. The Disasters Appeal Committee has arranged a special fundraising activity this Christmas which aims to make a real change to Heathy’s prospects.
Just take a look at the options listed below. Whatever you can afford, it will be richly appreciated. Please.
------
1p will buy heathy an oat, which can be used to make porridge, from which he will be able to lick the oat-flavoured milk, nourishing himself for a few more valuable seconds.
5p will buy him a cat biscuit, which he will be able to sniff and then reject, giving him a much-needed boost in self-esteem.
45p will buy heathy a sachet of cat meat in jelly, the aroma from which he will inhale, dreaming he still had the teeth to actually eat it.
90p will enable him to experience life untroubled by fleas, or the eggs of fleas, for 24 hours.
£2 will keep him in drugs for a day.
£5 will purchase the material so that a new cat bed can be constructed in his honour, such that he can ritually disregard it with the appropriate measure of disdain.
£10 will enable Heathy to have reconstructive ear surgery so that he looks like an actual cat.
£15 will provide him with the services of a carer, so that he can be freed when he gets a claw helplessly caught on a chair or some carpet.
£21 will buy Heathy prosthetic toes to replace the missing ones, so that his footprints in the snow don’t give the impression that he is permanently flicking some kind of ‘horns’ symbol.
£36 will enable Heathy to have much-needed eye surgery so that he will be able to see, and not walk into the wall so often.
If you can help, please direct your contributions to Paul Harland, who will be collecting on behalf of DAC.
But for some there will be no celebration this Christmas – only the ongoing battle to survive. Heathy is just one such individual.
By modern standards, Heathy never had a chance in life. Before he was six months old, when his family were away on holiday, he fell out of a tree and got his paw caught on some barbed wire. A week later he was discovered, thin and not having any fun at all. Fortunately he was brought back from the brink, thanks to emergency medical care and a ridiculous bandage that made one leg twice as long as the other, and that stuck out like a handle when he tried to curl up. Tragically he lost 2 toes in the incident.
Over the years his senses have gradually dwindled – his teeth are weak, his hearing is thought to have completely gone, his whiskers have started coming out in all the wrong places. And this Christmas he has suffered a loss of eyesight, as his retina has slipped off his eye.
As a result he is a shadow of his former self. He can see no prospect of a return to his glorious days of catching mice, then allowing them to slip through the gaps in his teeth.
------
But you can make a difference. The Disasters Appeal Committee has arranged a special fundraising activity this Christmas which aims to make a real change to Heathy’s prospects.
Just take a look at the options listed below. Whatever you can afford, it will be richly appreciated. Please.
------
1p will buy heathy an oat, which can be used to make porridge, from which he will be able to lick the oat-flavoured milk, nourishing himself for a few more valuable seconds.
5p will buy him a cat biscuit, which he will be able to sniff and then reject, giving him a much-needed boost in self-esteem.
45p will buy heathy a sachet of cat meat in jelly, the aroma from which he will inhale, dreaming he still had the teeth to actually eat it.
90p will enable him to experience life untroubled by fleas, or the eggs of fleas, for 24 hours.
£2 will keep him in drugs for a day.
£5 will purchase the material so that a new cat bed can be constructed in his honour, such that he can ritually disregard it with the appropriate measure of disdain.
£10 will enable Heathy to have reconstructive ear surgery so that he looks like an actual cat.
£15 will provide him with the services of a carer, so that he can be freed when he gets a claw helplessly caught on a chair or some carpet.
£21 will buy Heathy prosthetic toes to replace the missing ones, so that his footprints in the snow don’t give the impression that he is permanently flicking some kind of ‘horns’ symbol.
£36 will enable Heathy to have much-needed eye surgery so that he will be able to see, and not walk into the wall so often.
If you can help, please direct your contributions to Paul Harland, who will be collecting on behalf of DAC.
Thank you.
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Steve Fung leaves - the end of STFU
Steve STFU Fung has now left us to go and work for IFS Spain. He’s a lucky boy.
We had a big send off event at Sarah, Van and Gem’s place, the designated setting for all such functions when one cannot afford to hire a village hall or similar. Or maybe it is actually a village hall and they are actors. There were about 20 hangers-on there, some of which I recognised from work.
The theme, coincidentally, was a Spanish one. As a result Steve was dressed as some kind of slippery Iberian waiter and made to wear a broad hat and moustache in the style of a typical modern-day Spaniard. He had bought the misinformation that he was being taken out flamenco dancing, but then, so had I. There was a cake, which was in the style of the Spanish flag – I think credit for that goes to Sarah Hale, or possibly Gemma Copping. I don’t really know, because I was just flying back from Paris and got in a bit late, and I was a bit jetlagged from my holiday, and everyone was talking a bit too fast for my comprehension. It was just a blur of words and food. For all I know, Van Wyk Louw might as well have cooked the Spanish cake. Oh now I remember there was also a lot of other food. This included things like tapas and paella, which are commonly found in Spain. I believe some of these were home made while others came directly from specialist dealers, Nandos or Wickes or somebody.
At one point a PINATA emerged. This is a species of which I retain a deep suspicion, for I am sure it didn’t exist prior to MAY 2009. I had never heard of them anyway. Then suddenly in May 2009 I was surrounded by Pinatas and their uncanny proliferation seemed to me as if everyone else had had Pinatas in the backs of their minds like a nightmare for years, but had collectively somehow forgotten to actually tell anyone, and then suddenly realised and invented them and portrayed me as some kind of hermit paedophile for not having encountered them previously.
Anyway, a piñata came out and Steve took to demolishing it with The Wrath Of Fung which is some form of intense kung fu/maypole dancing derivative involving a gaily-patterned wand. It took a number of strikes before the piñata was battered out of existence and an array of chocolate and sweet type objects poured out. These were eaten, not least by Hayley. The gaystick was then reinvented as a limbo dancing bar.
I am finding this blog a bit hard to write, as my memories are a little vague. I am only writing this because Hayley bade me do it. This event took place almost 9 days ago.
Steve made a little speech, something on the theme of gratitude and parental influence, and some people started dropping things. Mostly this was Hayley, who found some breakable chinaware, glassware and some such, and dropped it. This made a mess. A bit later we got out Beatles rock band and played it. This is a game on the Xbox involving guitar playing, drums and singing. But this got a bit emotional and then Steve had to go home.
Otherwise most of the entertainment revolved around people taking the comedy moustache and wearing it in humorous positions other than upon their lip. Numerous photos attest to the hilarity engendered by this opportunity.
I can’t remember much else, except the following day, I was performing some kind of silky hat-snatch in the kitchen but the presence of my Force-distorting jedi nature induced a half-empty bottle of wine to slide across a table and down onto the floor. Upon hitting the floor, the glass of the bottle surprisingly came apart into a number of pieces and the wine itself emerged. The fluid nature of the wine meant that it flowed over quite a wide area, and being red, was in fact both visible to the naked eye and potentially liable to cause a small degree of stainage to vulnerable floor-coverings such as carpet. Meanwhile the smaller pieces of glass were considered by some to represent a minor physical danger to humans, especially children. On the plus side removing the glass and wine from the floor proved a straightforward task and I suspect, the coating of alcohol helped to kill off harmful microbes dwelling in the floor-grout.
My appreciation to Sarah and Gemma for assisting with the clean-up operation there.
We had a big send off event at Sarah, Van and Gem’s place, the designated setting for all such functions when one cannot afford to hire a village hall or similar. Or maybe it is actually a village hall and they are actors. There were about 20 hangers-on there, some of which I recognised from work.
The theme, coincidentally, was a Spanish one. As a result Steve was dressed as some kind of slippery Iberian waiter and made to wear a broad hat and moustache in the style of a typical modern-day Spaniard. He had bought the misinformation that he was being taken out flamenco dancing, but then, so had I. There was a cake, which was in the style of the Spanish flag – I think credit for that goes to Sarah Hale, or possibly Gemma Copping. I don’t really know, because I was just flying back from Paris and got in a bit late, and I was a bit jetlagged from my holiday, and everyone was talking a bit too fast for my comprehension. It was just a blur of words and food. For all I know, Van Wyk Louw might as well have cooked the Spanish cake. Oh now I remember there was also a lot of other food. This included things like tapas and paella, which are commonly found in Spain. I believe some of these were home made while others came directly from specialist dealers, Nandos or Wickes or somebody.
At one point a PINATA emerged. This is a species of which I retain a deep suspicion, for I am sure it didn’t exist prior to MAY 2009. I had never heard of them anyway. Then suddenly in May 2009 I was surrounded by Pinatas and their uncanny proliferation seemed to me as if everyone else had had Pinatas in the backs of their minds like a nightmare for years, but had collectively somehow forgotten to actually tell anyone, and then suddenly realised and invented them and portrayed me as some kind of hermit paedophile for not having encountered them previously.
Anyway, a piñata came out and Steve took to demolishing it with The Wrath Of Fung which is some form of intense kung fu/maypole dancing derivative involving a gaily-patterned wand. It took a number of strikes before the piñata was battered out of existence and an array of chocolate and sweet type objects poured out. These were eaten, not least by Hayley. The gaystick was then reinvented as a limbo dancing bar.
I am finding this blog a bit hard to write, as my memories are a little vague. I am only writing this because Hayley bade me do it. This event took place almost 9 days ago.
Steve made a little speech, something on the theme of gratitude and parental influence, and some people started dropping things. Mostly this was Hayley, who found some breakable chinaware, glassware and some such, and dropped it. This made a mess. A bit later we got out Beatles rock band and played it. This is a game on the Xbox involving guitar playing, drums and singing. But this got a bit emotional and then Steve had to go home.
Otherwise most of the entertainment revolved around people taking the comedy moustache and wearing it in humorous positions other than upon their lip. Numerous photos attest to the hilarity engendered by this opportunity.
I can’t remember much else, except the following day, I was performing some kind of silky hat-snatch in the kitchen but the presence of my Force-distorting jedi nature induced a half-empty bottle of wine to slide across a table and down onto the floor. Upon hitting the floor, the glass of the bottle surprisingly came apart into a number of pieces and the wine itself emerged. The fluid nature of the wine meant that it flowed over quite a wide area, and being red, was in fact both visible to the naked eye and potentially liable to cause a small degree of stainage to vulnerable floor-coverings such as carpet. Meanwhile the smaller pieces of glass were considered by some to represent a minor physical danger to humans, especially children. On the plus side removing the glass and wine from the floor proved a straightforward task and I suspect, the coating of alcohol helped to kill off harmful microbes dwelling in the floor-grout.
My appreciation to Sarah and Gemma for assisting with the clean-up operation there.
Wednesday, 18 November 2009
Piss up / Outdoor bath
Yesterday it was again raining cats and the species that shall not be named so i went on a totally inappropriate jaunt into the mountains around Kyoto. The villages up there are called Kibune and Kurama. Going to Kibune was not entirely worthwhile as there was nothing there, but I walked for 1 hour over a mountain and arrived in Kurama. Here I had an ice cream and then went to the onsen.
An onsen is a hot spring resort found all over japan, most commonly in hilly areas where the water is believed to be capable of healing pretty much anything. It was basically really nice and hot, a little pool to sit in and look at the autumn foliage on the opposite site of the valley, while listening to the water coming in from a little spout, and trying to ignore the vastly overweight, bearded, naked man from osaka splashing around hopelessly at the other end of the spa like a blind whale.
It was just me and him mostly and we talked about some stuff, although my bit was in english and his was in japanese, so the likelihood that we were actually discussing the same thing seems fairly remote.
I stayed there for about an hour, until the overwhelming heat began to give me a headache. Then I got out and tried to take a photo of the steaming bath without being seen doing do and hence being taken for just another western pervert. I got the train back down to Kyoto and visited the International Manga Museum, somewhat not what i had expected, then retreated to my lodgings and made the mistake of going out drinking with half a dozen guys from various former colonies, and spent the night in reggae bars listening to Snow's Informer (1992).
This morning required a pretty enormous breakfast, fortunately one where unlimited orange juice was on the table, and then i jumped back on the train to this place- it is called 'Takayama' and is located in the western part of the japan alps. I am staying in a Zen Buddhist temple, an experience known as 'Shukubo' in which i sleep like a monk and stuff. There's a temple where I may go and meditate for some minutes if i feel so inclined, and there is a curious underground dark tunnel, which apparently i can go into to try to locate the 'key of enlightenment'. There is also a kitchen with unlimited green tea.
There is a playstation but the abbot only has really poor games like dance dance revolution 1 & 2, i may sit him down later and tell him that although he may know Zen, he doesn't know crap when it comes to games.
Takayama is noted for the continued presence of traditional japanese houses, such as sake breweries and others. There is a morning market, which i shall hopefully go to tomorrow and also an open air museum of old houses.
The weather is really nice now but it is bitterly cold. There is a pretty deadly looking kerosene heater in my temple room, but thankfully also an electric blanket.
An onsen is a hot spring resort found all over japan, most commonly in hilly areas where the water is believed to be capable of healing pretty much anything. It was basically really nice and hot, a little pool to sit in and look at the autumn foliage on the opposite site of the valley, while listening to the water coming in from a little spout, and trying to ignore the vastly overweight, bearded, naked man from osaka splashing around hopelessly at the other end of the spa like a blind whale.
It was just me and him mostly and we talked about some stuff, although my bit was in english and his was in japanese, so the likelihood that we were actually discussing the same thing seems fairly remote.
I stayed there for about an hour, until the overwhelming heat began to give me a headache. Then I got out and tried to take a photo of the steaming bath without being seen doing do and hence being taken for just another western pervert. I got the train back down to Kyoto and visited the International Manga Museum, somewhat not what i had expected, then retreated to my lodgings and made the mistake of going out drinking with half a dozen guys from various former colonies, and spent the night in reggae bars listening to Snow's Informer (1992).
This morning required a pretty enormous breakfast, fortunately one where unlimited orange juice was on the table, and then i jumped back on the train to this place- it is called 'Takayama' and is located in the western part of the japan alps. I am staying in a Zen Buddhist temple, an experience known as 'Shukubo' in which i sleep like a monk and stuff. There's a temple where I may go and meditate for some minutes if i feel so inclined, and there is a curious underground dark tunnel, which apparently i can go into to try to locate the 'key of enlightenment'. There is also a kitchen with unlimited green tea.
There is a playstation but the abbot only has really poor games like dance dance revolution 1 & 2, i may sit him down later and tell him that although he may know Zen, he doesn't know crap when it comes to games.
Takayama is noted for the continued presence of traditional japanese houses, such as sake breweries and others. There is a morning market, which i shall hopefully go to tomorrow and also an open air museum of old houses.
The weather is really nice now but it is bitterly cold. There is a pretty deadly looking kerosene heater in my temple room, but thankfully also an electric blanket.
Monday, 16 November 2009
Temples overload
I have been in Kyoto the past 2 days. It seems like all of Japan is here too - yesterday was 15th November, hence apparently the 3/5/7 festival, in which children of ages 3 5 and 7 dress up unwillingly in kimonos and visit shrines and temples. This will hopefully make my photos a bit more interesting at least, nothing like a whining child to brighten an otherwise tediously positive photo.
I am a bit confused, when I arrived here and went into shops the japanese invariably call something liek "rashmashee" in a friendly voice. At first i didn't know what this was, assumed it was a greeting, and said it back. Then i got a vague memory that they answer the phone with mushymushy, and i started saying this, but then i got scared and thought that MushyMushy must be what people in the arctic say to start their dogs moving, so how could it be that? So I figured out that the shopkeepers are saying "Irashimassee" which means welcome, although i don't really know what the correct response is, so I say Konnichiwa. But now the man next to me who is trying to use skype is clearly saying MushyMushy. So it must be acceptable, Or he is an eskimo skyping his dogs.
Everyone spent today trying to take the perfect photo of autumn foliage. I travelled around on a hired bicycle, it was quite rubbish but at least this ensures it doesn't get nicked. At one point i rammed a guy on a motorbike, this was not a sensible fight to pick, but i lived to tell the tale.
Now he's just saying hi...hi...hi...hi..chang...hi...hi.., poor chap, but then that's skype for you.
This evening i had a kind of omelette with treacle. One feature of japanese food is that they like to put something soft in the centre of everything. I bought 2 slices of cheese on toast from somewhere, result i thought, until i found it had custard in the middle.
I have a plan to go and try to see the sumo wrestling tournament in fukuoka this weekend. Another good thing here is that you can swear and get away with it... just quickly thing of a place name that starts with your chosen swear word and construct a sentence to follow.
I am a bit confused, when I arrived here and went into shops the japanese invariably call something liek "rashmashee" in a friendly voice. At first i didn't know what this was, assumed it was a greeting, and said it back. Then i got a vague memory that they answer the phone with mushymushy, and i started saying this, but then i got scared and thought that MushyMushy must be what people in the arctic say to start their dogs moving, so how could it be that? So I figured out that the shopkeepers are saying "Irashimassee" which means welcome, although i don't really know what the correct response is, so I say Konnichiwa. But now the man next to me who is trying to use skype is clearly saying MushyMushy. So it must be acceptable, Or he is an eskimo skyping his dogs.
Everyone spent today trying to take the perfect photo of autumn foliage. I travelled around on a hired bicycle, it was quite rubbish but at least this ensures it doesn't get nicked. At one point i rammed a guy on a motorbike, this was not a sensible fight to pick, but i lived to tell the tale.
Now he's just saying hi...hi...hi...hi..chang...hi...hi.., poor chap, but then that's skype for you.
This evening i had a kind of omelette with treacle. One feature of japanese food is that they like to put something soft in the centre of everything. I bought 2 slices of cheese on toast from somewhere, result i thought, until i found it had custard in the middle.
I have a plan to go and try to see the sumo wrestling tournament in fukuoka this weekend. Another good thing here is that you can swear and get away with it... just quickly thing of a place name that starts with your chosen swear word and construct a sentence to follow.
correction- regarding rain.
I'm a bit disappointed about that, the phrase I was attempting to use 2 posts back was "It was raining cats and Banned Animals", a reference obviously to the fact that i don't get on with hounds, but because i put it in strange characters on a dodgy japanese keyboard, it just came out as "cats and".
Rubbish.
Rubbish.
Saturday, 14 November 2009
unusual sleep
Ｉ ｈａｖｅ ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｄ ｓｏｍｅ ｖｅｒｙ ｕｎｕｓｕａｌ ｓｌｅｅｐｉｎｇ ａｒｒａｎｇｅｍｅｎｔｓ ｉｎ ｔｈｅ ｐａｓｔ ４８ ｈｏｕｒｓ。 Ｈｅｎｃｅ ｔｈｅ ｔｉｔｌｅ ｏｆ ｔｈｉｓ ｂｌｏｇ．Ａｆｔｅｒ ｍｙ ｄａｙ ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ ａｔ ｔｅｍｐｌｅｓ ｉｎ ｎａｒａ， ｉ ｒｅｔｕｒｎｅｄ ｔｏ ｍｙ ｐｌａｃｅ ｏｆ ｒｅｓｔ ｆｏｒ ｔｈｅ ｅｖｅｎｉｎｇ． This was a ryokan, or traditional japanese inn. It had paper windows and tatami mats in the rooms, which are in fact used as a unit of measurement. 1 tatami is about 1.5 sq meters apparently. For example a large spa pool may be rated at 100 tatamis. The lady there was very nice and made me take off my shoes and replace them with generic slippers, in brown. then i made my way upstairs and found a little tea set on a very low table, and i made a cup of green tea. the kettle took a long time to boil.Then i found a blue thing in the cupboard -this was a yukata, or simple japanese night robe, like a cheap kimono. i put this on and did internet. The ryokan did not have showers in the rooms, just a common bath on the ground floor, and by bath they meant bath. Nobody came into the bath with me when i was in there, which was a relief, for it was not all that large. in fact it was tapered, so i don:t know what we would have done if someone had come along - maybe sit next to each other, or else at opposite ends and try to minimise intimacy of leg brushing. Without doubt, all bars of soap would have been tightly clutched.I had a very good night`s sleep, but for a strange nightmare involving someone throwing eels on my face whike i lay there.I have so far damaged one paper window wtih careless swinging of my umbrella, but i:ve noticed that they quite often have to replace single panels in the paperwork. So i`m not the only muppet.The next day i went on 11 modes of transport in order to spend the day in Koya San, a mountain temple complex. This was another impressive place, so i took photos of it.eventually i got back down the mountain and made my way to osaka, to try out the "Capsule hotel". I actually thought it was quite nice. you put your shoes in a locker, then give them the key and you get another key to another locker-this is where you will put your things. then you get changed, and basically get into your box and sleep. they adamantly refer to it as your "room" when you check in, despite it being only 2 cubic meters or so, i went for a slightly larger one, for greater comfort. The only thing wrong was i didn:t sleep all that well because the holes don:t have doors, just curtains. so you can hear all the drunks coming in. you get a tv, with some decidedly mature entertainment on channel 1, a radio and an alarm.The complication was the attached sauna. This was a man-only hotel, a new experience, and that should already have been a concern. Again there was no private washing area, but in this case a massive set of rooms with pools and saunas and showering places, full of naked people and or people in hideous "sauna pants", provided when entering. This must be what it is like at the ymca methinks.When i went into the sauna i locked my bits into another locker. i got really confused at this point about all the lockers involved.Today i went to see himeji castle, another big points score on the harland sighting scale, and now i am in hiroshima, a place with an interesting history. There are some monuments to the bomb victims and a museum, which was quite powerful actually. in an emotional sense.I thought my bag had been stolen today, but i had put in in locker 789, and then put my money into 788 and locked that one up instead. what a tit!Low quality writing caused by tiredness - my apologies.
Thursday, 12 November 2009
Osaka and useful signage
yesterday morning it was raining the proverbial cats and so i decided i would not let it piss on my day in kyoto and i would instead jump on the shinkansen to osaka.
Osaka is a very large place, I calculate the 3rd largest city in Japan. First I went to the aquarium, because it has a roof. Osaka aquarium is very impressive and features whale sharks in the middle. Whale sharks are the biggest fish in the sea. I felt ever so slightly sorry for these as they looked a bit like 2 guinea pigs in a shoebox, with not a lot to do except follow each other round, not having many options other than to move into the space that the other one is trying to move out of. Fortunately they were only 5m long; if they had been fully big whale sharks they would have had to be folded in half to be shoved into the tank in the first place. Somewhat like a baguette being inserted into a carrier bag.
At the start was a model whale shark wearing a santa hat, beside which I had a photo taken. Then I went up a big escalator to the top, and made my way back down slowly past otters, dolphins, and assorted fish. Also octopi, jellyfish and other such things. At the end there was a petting area, oddly featuring a capybara.
There was also a shark and ray stroking area, which hayley would have loved. I didn’t think there were many creatures in there at first, but then I saw a large pile of sharks in the end, sleeping apparently. These were only toy sharks, about 18 inches long or so, in a variety of colours. I found that the rays and the first few sharks were smooth and quite squeezable, however my attempt to impress the blonde Australian who was following me around fell somewhat short as I chose that moment to stroke the black shark, which had rough skin, and I pretty much leapt off the floor in terror. A notice here caught my eye:
“sting rays have dangerous barbs in their tails, which can kill people. However the barbs in these rays have been shortened” – oh that’s great, so thanks very much for shortening them, I would hate to know that the dangerous bit had been removed entirely…
After that I went to Osaka Castle and took loads of pictures, and answered a questionnaire which was in Japanese. Then I checked out the pachinko parlours and managed to find a sign that explained how to play. I did not have a go however.
It was still raining quite a lot, but I had borrowed a very manly black umbrella, which I used as an imitation sword. Japanese people don’t do this with their umbrellas, it would seem.
The last thing I did was to visit Umeda Sky Building, a new tower that is structurally not dissimilar to a polo balanced on top of 2 thin sticks. At the top are some glassed in escalators that take you across empty space through the middle of the hole 40 storeys up, this was mostly terrifying. Then you go out on the top and for some reason all I could think about was earthquakes. Basically if there’s one now, don’t even bother...
The view was impressive, all the way across Osaka in the East out to Kobe in the west. Can’t really describe it but it’s pretty cool to be able to see an aeroplane come all the way in and land. I noticed that there was nothing to stop me throwing my umbrella into the ‘hole’ and it falling to kill some Japanese man down below. “Don’t go over handrail” said another helpful sign.
Today I have gone on to Nara, the first permanent capital of Japan, about 1300 years ago. There are some very old temples here, most impressively Todai Ji, which features the largest wooden building in the world, a hall called the Daibutsu-den, containing a large bronze and gold Buddha called the Daibutsu. Also there are 1700 deer. I visited a shrine in the woods as well, this being called Kasuga Taisha, but was prevented entry by some kind of tedious ceremony in which a man in a white habit was positioning things on his mat. I did notice however an interesting thing, in that what I took to be a sheet of music I could see was written in Kanji script, i.e not our sheet music. This is probably not surprising, but as Vincent Vega pointed out, it’s the little things.
After that I visited a traditional Japanese house and went in some shops.
Other interesting discoveries:
The existence of a ‘ladies only’ carriage in the train;
The Japanese form two orderly lines for train doors, not like our vermin-like scrum for access;
Today I saw a tshirt slogan telling me about ‘opinion polls’ – a first for me;
A lot of them wear white surgery masks to keep the bugs off. This is fine, but it is a bit unsettling when the shop assistants do it and eye you facelessly when you enter;
There is a shop that sells the plastic models that depict plates of food, which restaurants use to illustrate what meals look like, and so that westerners can easily point to order. This really caused me problems, because I was hungry and went to order something I fancied and he just picked up the plastic thing and shoved it in a bag. This was not what I had in mind…
Osaka is a very large place, I calculate the 3rd largest city in Japan. First I went to the aquarium, because it has a roof. Osaka aquarium is very impressive and features whale sharks in the middle. Whale sharks are the biggest fish in the sea. I felt ever so slightly sorry for these as they looked a bit like 2 guinea pigs in a shoebox, with not a lot to do except follow each other round, not having many options other than to move into the space that the other one is trying to move out of. Fortunately they were only 5m long; if they had been fully big whale sharks they would have had to be folded in half to be shoved into the tank in the first place. Somewhat like a baguette being inserted into a carrier bag.
At the start was a model whale shark wearing a santa hat, beside which I had a photo taken. Then I went up a big escalator to the top, and made my way back down slowly past otters, dolphins, and assorted fish. Also octopi, jellyfish and other such things. At the end there was a petting area, oddly featuring a capybara.
There was also a shark and ray stroking area, which hayley would have loved. I didn’t think there were many creatures in there at first, but then I saw a large pile of sharks in the end, sleeping apparently. These were only toy sharks, about 18 inches long or so, in a variety of colours. I found that the rays and the first few sharks were smooth and quite squeezable, however my attempt to impress the blonde Australian who was following me around fell somewhat short as I chose that moment to stroke the black shark, which had rough skin, and I pretty much leapt off the floor in terror. A notice here caught my eye:
“sting rays have dangerous barbs in their tails, which can kill people. However the barbs in these rays have been shortened” – oh that’s great, so thanks very much for shortening them, I would hate to know that the dangerous bit had been removed entirely…
After that I went to Osaka Castle and took loads of pictures, and answered a questionnaire which was in Japanese. Then I checked out the pachinko parlours
It was still raining quite a lot, but I had borrowed a very manly black umbrella, which I used as an imitation sword. Japanese people don’t do this with their umbrellas, it would seem.
The last thing I did was to visit Umeda Sky Building, a new tower that is structurally not dissimilar to a polo balanced on top of 2 thin sticks. At the top are some glassed in escalators that take you across empty space through the middle of the hole 40 storeys up, this was mostly terrifying. Then you go out on the top and for some reason all I could think about was earthquakes. Basically if there’s one now, don’t even bother...
The view was impressive, all the way across Osaka in the East out to Kobe in the west. Can’t really describe it but it’s pretty cool to be able to see an aeroplane come all the way in and land. I noticed that there was nothing to stop me throwing my umbrella into the ‘hole’ and it falling to kill some Japanese man down below. “Don’t go over handrail” said another helpful sign.
Today I have gone on to Nara, the first permanent capital of Japan, about 1300 years ago. There are some very old temples here, most impressively Todai Ji, which features the largest wooden building in the world, a hall called the Daibutsu-den, containing a large bronze and gold Buddha called the Daibutsu. Also there are 1700 deer. I visited a shrine in the woods as well, this being called Kasuga Taisha, but was prevented entry by some kind of tedious ceremony in which a man in a white habit was positioning things on his mat. I did notice however an interesting thing, in that what I took to be a sheet of music I could see was written in Kanji script, i.e not our sheet music. This is probably not surprising, but as Vincent Vega pointed out, it’s the little things.
After that I visited a traditional Japanese house and went in some shops.
Other interesting discoveries:
The existence of a ‘ladies only’ carriage in the train;
The Japanese form two orderly lines for train doors, not like our vermin-like scrum for access;
Today I saw a tshirt slogan telling me about ‘opinion polls’ – a first for me;
A lot of them wear white surgery masks to keep the bugs off. This is fine, but it is a bit unsettling when the shop assistants do it and eye you facelessly when you enter;
There is a shop that sells the plastic models that depict plates of food, which restaurants use to illustrate what meals look like, and so that westerners can easily point to order. This really caused me problems, because I was hungry and went to order something I fancied and he just picked up the plastic thing and shoved it in a bag. This was not what I had in mind…
Tuesday, 10 November 2009
Tokyo, Fish and Geisha
Hello from Japan.
I got here on Saturday, it's a long way from home and i keep waking up at 4.30 and wandering out into the Tokyo night to try to see some sights, before realising that it's still dark and nobody wants me to be out yet. My average start time on this trip so far has been unbelievable, but well worthwhile, for example i had to get up at 4.40am to go and see the tokyo tzukiji fish market, where all the morning tuna comes in and restaurant types bid for it. This was a bit of a mixed interest for me as i do care about the tuna, time magazine only last week described the bluefin tuna as one of the ocean's most majestic beasts, and they will soon be extinct, but then on the other hand it does taste very nice. I don't think my presence there has any effect for or against the japanese fishing it so never mind. It was fascinating and pretty dangerous, especially in a morning daze, hundreds of little carts zooming around with great big tuna on the back, (they are about 5 feet long mostly).I saw how they prepare the tuna by cutting it off the bone with a massive sword, then one of the spines was getting discarded possibly and some other man manged to muscle in and convince the owner to let him try some scraps of the raw fish, and then i got in there too. it was lovely, a bit bloody in places, but the man added some soy sauce, which just balances the flavour in a lovely way. Even the way to get it off the bone was cool -we used half a shell of a scallop or some such, which is just the right shape to scoop it out.
In other news i am staying in the same hotel as robert pattinson, he who is in Twilight, who was supposed to be leaving back to usa until he met me, and he said i just make him really happy and therefore we have both stayed here. We are basically sharing the top floor of the tokyo Park Hyatt. It's a bit like the 2003 fillm 'lost in translation' but with men instead of Scarlett Johannson. He's asked me to take him back to see 'High Wycombe', but i'm not sure I will do it. Not sure I can fit him in.
I have been to Yasukuni shrine, this is controversial because it honours the japanese war dead, and the tokyo museum, asakusa Senso-Ji temple, Akiba electronics place, Shinjuku area and some other stuff. Shibuya crossing is very cool, this is the place with diagonal pedestrian crossings and big TV screens on the buildings. Here there was a 'Standing Sushi bar' where you stand up while having sushi. I ordered things in Japanese. Then like a muppet of true harland proportions I decided that the green powdered substance must be powdered wasabi (it was actually green tea).
In this vicinity is also many love hotels, i was disappointed by this though. They are supposed to have exotic themes like arabian palace or undersea paradise but they are just hotel-room like. The entrance is through a sneaky door and the receptionist cannot see you, and on the wall are illuminated pictures of the rooms. Perhaps all the good ones were already 'taken'. The pricing is as follows: 8 hours "Sleep" ~ 7000Yen; 3 hours "Rest" ~ 3000Yen.
My trusted packet of chocolate caramel digestives are serving me well. However in the flight they suffered a bit, and all fused stickily together, so that what i now have is the cylindrical god of all twixes. It is 6 inches long and 2 inches in diameter. I calculate that its volume is 19 cubic inches.
Today was pretty cool. I got on the Shinkansen and travelled to Kyoto, which was the capital of Japan from 794 until the Meiji Restoration in 1868 (which was when the imperial family was reinstated at the expense of the shogun). This means it is the most interesting city in Japan. This took 2.5 hours. On the way I managed to see Mount Fuji, an unexpected bonus. I have taken a photo of it- it is very striking, while all other mountains in that bit are quite flat looking.
Then I found out that in the Gion Kaiken, the geishas were performing the last dance of the autumnal season today at 4pm. This remarkable coincidence caused me to buy a ticket immediately, and make my way there. Gion is the most famous Geisha district in Japan, and is found in the east of Kyoto. This strange afternoon involved a tea ceremony in which the geisha methodically spoons hot water into a cup, stirs it with some kind of hair clip, then another apprentice geisha 'Maiko' brings it to the crowd. Then I went into a theatre and they performed 6 dances, which was excellent I thought. There were maybe 7 geisha and 6 apprentices or so. Also 3 women playing the 'Shamisen' a traditional 3-stringed insturment, and 3 other women singing. The dancing is not exactly drum and bass where tempo is considered, and is elegant and appears to have the purpose of storytelling. I believe one was a story about some cats and some birds they wanted to kill.
Otherwise today I rambled around the streets of Gion quite a bit in the rain, but only saw 2 very young geisha sat on a bench. However there are many ladies in kimono and i tried to get photogrpahed with some of them. I have been to a couple of other temples - it ius a good time to be here as the autumn 'Koyo' season is in the kyoto area. This means the trees are in various different colours...
That will do for now. Thank you for reading. I will now contemplate how the intermittent rain shall affect my actions tomorrow.
I got here on Saturday, it's a long way from home and i keep waking up at 4.30 and wandering out into the Tokyo night to try to see some sights, before realising that it's still dark and nobody wants me to be out yet. My average start time on this trip so far has been unbelievable, but well worthwhile, for example i had to get up at 4.40am to go and see the tokyo tzukiji fish market, where all the morning tuna comes in and restaurant types bid for it. This was a bit of a mixed interest for me as i do care about the tuna, time magazine only last week described the bluefin tuna as one of the ocean's most majestic beasts, and they will soon be extinct, but then on the other hand it does taste very nice. I don't think my presence there has any effect for or against the japanese fishing it so never mind. It was fascinating and pretty dangerous, especially in a morning daze, hundreds of little carts zooming around with great big tuna on the back, (they are about 5 feet long mostly).I saw how they prepare the tuna by cutting it off the bone with a massive sword, then one of the spines was getting discarded possibly and some other man manged to muscle in and convince the owner to let him try some scraps of the raw fish, and then i got in there too. it was lovely, a bit bloody in places, but the man added some soy sauce, which just balances the flavour in a lovely way. Even the way to get it off the bone was cool -we used half a shell of a scallop or some such, which is just the right shape to scoop it out.
In other news i am staying in the same hotel as robert pattinson, he who is in Twilight, who was supposed to be leaving back to usa until he met me, and he said i just make him really happy and therefore we have both stayed here. We are basically sharing the top floor of the tokyo Park Hyatt. It's a bit like the 2003 fillm 'lost in translation' but with men instead of Scarlett Johannson. He's asked me to take him back to see 'High Wycombe', but i'm not sure I will do it. Not sure I can fit him in.
I have been to Yasukuni shrine, this is controversial because it honours the japanese war dead, and the tokyo museum, asakusa Senso-Ji temple, Akiba electronics place, Shinjuku area and some other stuff. Shibuya crossing is very cool, this is the place with diagonal pedestrian crossings and big TV screens on the buildings. Here there was a 'Standing Sushi bar' where you stand up while having sushi. I ordered things in Japanese. Then like a muppet of true harland proportions I decided that the green powdered substance must be powdered wasabi (it was actually green tea).
In this vicinity is also many love hotels, i was disappointed by this though. They are supposed to have exotic themes like arabian palace or undersea paradise but they are just hotel-room like. The entrance is through a sneaky door and the receptionist cannot see you, and on the wall are illuminated pictures of the rooms. Perhaps all the good ones were already 'taken'. The pricing is as follows: 8 hours "Sleep" ~ 7000Yen; 3 hours "Rest" ~ 3000Yen.
My trusted packet of chocolate caramel digestives are serving me well. However in the flight they suffered a bit, and all fused stickily together, so that what i now have is the cylindrical god of all twixes. It is 6 inches long and 2 inches in diameter. I calculate that its volume is 19 cubic inches.
Today was pretty cool. I got on the Shinkansen and travelled to Kyoto, which was the capital of Japan from 794 until the Meiji Restoration in 1868 (which was when the imperial family was reinstated at the expense of the shogun). This means it is the most interesting city in Japan. This took 2.5 hours. On the way I managed to see Mount Fuji, an unexpected bonus. I have taken a photo of it- it is very striking, while all other mountains in that bit are quite flat looking.
Then I found out that in the Gion Kaiken, the geishas were performing the last dance of the autumnal season today at 4pm. This remarkable coincidence caused me to buy a ticket immediately, and make my way there. Gion is the most famous Geisha district in Japan, and is found in the east of Kyoto. This strange afternoon involved a tea ceremony in which the geisha methodically spoons hot water into a cup, stirs it with some kind of hair clip, then another apprentice geisha 'Maiko' brings it to the crowd. Then I went into a theatre and they performed 6 dances, which was excellent I thought. There were maybe 7 geisha and 6 apprentices or so. Also 3 women playing the 'Shamisen' a traditional 3-stringed insturment, and 3 other women singing. The dancing is not exactly drum and bass where tempo is considered, and is elegant and appears to have the purpose of storytelling. I believe one was a story about some cats and some birds they wanted to kill.
Otherwise today I rambled around the streets of Gion quite a bit in the rain, but only saw 2 very young geisha sat on a bench. However there are many ladies in kimono and i tried to get photogrpahed with some of them. I have been to a couple of other temples - it ius a good time to be here as the autumn 'Koyo' season is in the kyoto area. This means the trees are in various different colours...
That will do for now. Thank you for reading. I will now contemplate how the intermittent rain shall affect my actions tomorrow.
Friday, 16 October 2009
Thoughts from the sky
Almost got arrested at the security checkpoint this evening – but it is not my style to get arrested the conventional way, such as by taking lots of forks in my hand luggage.
The French are a bit keen when it comes to security and the whole process takes quite a long time, during which you lose interest and begin to daydream. So when it eventually becomes my turn, and the fairly attractive security woman asks me to take my belt off, surely she should not be surprised when I absent-mindedly begin unzipping my trousers and make to whip them off? This was the most embarrassing moment of my week.
Now I am in the food hall at Charles de Gaulle airport. On balance, considering service, setting and culinary expertise, I suspect it is not in the Michelin guide.
This is an extremely sad place. Everyone here has a beer and a laptop, and is trying to work out how to get the wireless to work.
I wanted the Poulet Curry, but instead she offered me Poulet Masala, which I took, even though it looked a bit odd. This was my first mistake. I think she must have said Boulet, because it definitely isn’t chicken. The pieces are of some arbitrarily-shaped aquatic species I do not recognise, almost like some kind of generic seafood, possibly krill or plankton. In fact I think it may be salmon. They are of a remarkable pink/orange colour, and in that regard share something with a lady I saw on the train here.
Just before she served this dish she put it in the microwave for about a minute. I admire an establishment so comfortable with its station as to make no effort whatsoever to deny that your food has been microwaved warm. Even more admirably, they provide additional microwave ovens in the corners of the restaurant for customer use, presumably to reduce complaints of cold food.
When flying, I like to count morons.
These include the people who ask for directions to their seat when they get onto the plane. I cannot comprehend this, and I have the utmost respect for any cabin steward who can keep a straight face while basically saying the following, in fewer words…
‘I see you require assistance in identifying the location of your designated seat. Allow me to help by revealing to me your boarding card. You can see here that the boarding card is telling you that you are in seat 15B. This is apparent from these words: “Seat 15B”. So what you need to do at this point is find a seat that has the name 15B. Conveniently, the airline took the measure of labelling each seat with its name, to make this achievable, even for a foreign idiot like you. This seat right here is labelled 4C. So you need to keep walking until you reach row 15. Don’t worry; just walk in this direction, it’s almost impossible to get lost. We use a numbering system known as counting, in which first the number on the right goes up 1 by 1, and when it gets to 9, then it changes to a 0, and another number 1 appears on the left. This is nothing to be afraid of. Just keep going until you get to 15. When you reach row 15, you need to find a seat called 15B. To do this you need to be familiar with something called the alphabet, in which we put all the letters you can think of in a line. It goes A, B, C, D and so on. But luckily you can stop at B, because that is your seat. So all you need to remember is the letters of the alphabet up to B. God speed, simpleton.’
This life diminishing exchange is received by the passenger either with heartfelt thanks, expressed through a relieved nod and a ‘thank heavens you’re here to help’, or with yet further bafflement, expressed through a profound Gallic shrug as the person gazes at their boarding card, mystified by its complexity.
Distressingly, I think it is correct to say that the first people to fly were French.
The French are a bit keen when it comes to security and the whole process takes quite a long time, during which you lose interest and begin to daydream. So when it eventually becomes my turn, and the fairly attractive security woman asks me to take my belt off, surely she should not be surprised when I absent-mindedly begin unzipping my trousers and make to whip them off? This was the most embarrassing moment of my week.
Now I am in the food hall at Charles de Gaulle airport. On balance, considering service, setting and culinary expertise, I suspect it is not in the Michelin guide.
This is an extremely sad place. Everyone here has a beer and a laptop, and is trying to work out how to get the wireless to work.
I wanted the Poulet Curry, but instead she offered me Poulet Masala, which I took, even though it looked a bit odd. This was my first mistake. I think she must have said Boulet, because it definitely isn’t chicken. The pieces are of some arbitrarily-shaped aquatic species I do not recognise, almost like some kind of generic seafood, possibly krill or plankton. In fact I think it may be salmon. They are of a remarkable pink/orange colour, and in that regard share something with a lady I saw on the train here.
Just before she served this dish she put it in the microwave for about a minute. I admire an establishment so comfortable with its station as to make no effort whatsoever to deny that your food has been microwaved warm. Even more admirably, they provide additional microwave ovens in the corners of the restaurant for customer use, presumably to reduce complaints of cold food.
When flying, I like to count morons.
These include the people who ask for directions to their seat when they get onto the plane. I cannot comprehend this, and I have the utmost respect for any cabin steward who can keep a straight face while basically saying the following, in fewer words…
‘I see you require assistance in identifying the location of your designated seat. Allow me to help by revealing to me your boarding card. You can see here that the boarding card is telling you that you are in seat 15B. This is apparent from these words: “Seat 15B”. So what you need to do at this point is find a seat that has the name 15B. Conveniently, the airline took the measure of labelling each seat with its name, to make this achievable, even for a foreign idiot like you. This seat right here is labelled 4C. So you need to keep walking until you reach row 15. Don’t worry; just walk in this direction, it’s almost impossible to get lost. We use a numbering system known as counting, in which first the number on the right goes up 1 by 1, and when it gets to 9, then it changes to a 0, and another number 1 appears on the left. This is nothing to be afraid of. Just keep going until you get to 15. When you reach row 15, you need to find a seat called 15B. To do this you need to be familiar with something called the alphabet, in which we put all the letters you can think of in a line. It goes A, B, C, D and so on. But luckily you can stop at B, because that is your seat. So all you need to remember is the letters of the alphabet up to B. God speed, simpleton.’
This life diminishing exchange is received by the passenger either with heartfelt thanks, expressed through a relieved nod and a ‘thank heavens you’re here to help’, or with yet further bafflement, expressed through a profound Gallic shrug as the person gazes at their boarding card, mystified by its complexity.
Distressingly, I think it is correct to say that the first people to fly were French.
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