A Day in the country

I suppose the number one thing on anybody’s wish list when travelling to Japan is to ride a bullet train. Well Saturday held a day of varied travel for our novices. With lots of luggage and five of us we decided on a taxi from Asakusa to Tokyo Station. Lacy antimacassars and white-gloved drivers are a surprise when you first see them but you realise that cabbies take pride in their work, We didn’t use many but they all wore suits and ties and had enough English to make a joke or respond to ours. Then it was into the station and up to the Shinkansen tracks for a journey to Mishima. The one mistake I’d allowed the ticket office guy to press on me was that our reserved seats were in coach sixteen. How many coaches on a big Shinkansen? You got it. Where does the escalator deliver you on the platform? In the middle. So it was a long trek along the platform and then you have to board very quickly so as to keep to the schedule. I love the way the guard looks along the train, down at the track and mutter phrases to themselves almost like praying for the train’s success. I also like the fact that whenever any official or vendor enters the carriage they bow to it.

I’d promised the grandkids a bit of magic on the train and they were amazed when their forward facing seat was pivoted so that they could face their parents as a four. We whizzed off at high speed and through suburbs, tunnels and occasional stretches of countryside and were in Mishima within the hour. It’s over a hundred kilometres and given four station stops speeds must have been up around 180 km/h at times. At Mishima we changed to a local train to Shuzenji which is half way down the Izu peninsula. This was a fun ride with speeds which allowed you to look into peoples’ back gardens, see folk working in the rice fields and admire rural building styles. It also gave me time to contemplate that I had a vivid picture of my phone in the net on the back of the seat in front of me on the Shinkansen – probably in Nagoya by now. I did this five years ago when leaving Tokyo for Hong Kong and somehow it was produced for me to collect in Hong Kong at the airport. At Shuzenji we had to take a bus and sadly because of a change in our departure from Tokyo we had nearly two hours to kill in Shuzenji. Time for lunch. With all our luggage we didn’t want to stray far and despite worries about my granddaughter’s likelihood of finding something she could eat we entered a restaurant with a Japanese only menu, some helpful plastic plates in the window and a proprietress whose English consisted only of numbers, we enjoyed a great traditional Japanese meal.

We had to phone our next stop to tell them we were catching the 14:20 bus and a voice confirmed that we would be met at the bus stop. We purchased tickets and boarded the bus for a fantastic voyage. The Izu peninsula is mountainous and we were in the middle and needed to get to the west since the name of our destination was Nishi Izu Koyoi Onsen and I know nishi means west. The first third of the journey was through winding, climbing roads through various spa resorts, golf courses and a Tudor England theme park Niji no Sato (Rainbow Park) which also features a miniature railway modelled on the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch narrow gauge one in Kent. The bus went in but there were no takers on this occasion. From then on there were trees clinging to sheer mountains, almost as many hairpin bends as Nikko and eventually glimpses of a gorgeous little circular bay. This was indeed the port of Heda our home for the night. I thought all the family would enjoy one night of constant shoes off, shoes on of a traditional Japanese hotel or ryokan so booked this one in hope from the internet. It had pictures of Mount Fuji on its website but then so do most of the hotels in Japan. We were met as promised by a smart lady who took us five minutes to the hotel and treated us to a glass of delicious yuzu juice while checking in took place. We also noted that there was a free whisky offer from 15:00 onwards and a wine dispensing system I’d seen somewhere before. You charge a card and select the amount and type of wine from 10 options until your credit runs out. We were then shown to our adjacent identical rooms. I then caused confusion by asking if there were different rooms for singles and families but it seems they are all 12 mat tatami rooms and futons are laid out for the number of occupants.

Having warned the children that all onsen (hot spring) bathing in Japan was always in the nude after having a really good scrub in the shower to keep the spring water clean, we booked the private onsen. It was a bit small for five and very exposed to a howling gale so I left them all to it and went to pursue the return of my phone. I found the number for Japan Rail lost and found and called it but no one spoke English so the helpful staff spoke to them in Japanese with the train, coach and seat details I’d written down for them with a description of the phone: Samsung, black wallet with business cards. In the conversation I heard the word meishi which I knew from previous trips meant business cards. Great relief – they had my phone and agreed to send it to our next hotel in Kyoto on Monday. It cost 907yen – about a fiver – but that’s so much better than an insurance claim and replacement. We all met up in the lounge with the family having enjoyed their onsen experience so much that we all decided to go to the public one next morning before breakfast. We’d spotted a sign to “Beach Walk” and decided to give it a try. At the foot of a set of rather uneven steps we found ourselves in a car park and as we rounded the corner this view confronted us.

What a stroke of luck! Many people visit Japan and never see the sacred mountain because of cloud. WE got her in resplendent beauty with a defining strip of cloud as well. We walked back along the beach in the almost completely circular bay but then emerged to confront a gale so strong it made everybody work hard and literally took my breath away. I always carry an inhaler for my asthma but it’s a comfort blanket from the old days but before making it, in stages, back up the steps I had to have a puff.

Time for a shower and change and a card game before dinner (Mike A look away). I’d experienced a kaiseki meal with Dee and was a bit concerned as we’d had grasshoppers, forest ferns and fish heads. However this one was more mainstream and my granddaughter’s child’s choice came served in a miniature fishing boat. It included vegetables boiling in a bowl with a fire pellet under it that indicated the food was ready to eat when the fire went out – dead clever. The courses went on and were all delicious and the service was attentive, amused and excellent. I don’t think they see that many English families. After dinner we returned to the lounge where it would have been rude not to avail ourselves of free whisky and dispensed wine. It was not a long start as an early onsen was required before breakfast.

Onsen enjoyed and Japanese breakfast enjoyed by all even the sceptical junior, we did the beach walk again. Less good. views but still OK and the wind, while strong, had abated somewhat. We’d decided that the bus schedule was incompatible with our travel plans so had ordered a taxi to take five plus luggage back to Shuzenji. However we we’re a bit dismayed to find a single ordinary four seater with inadequate boot space. Much sucking of teeth and phone calling resulted in a nine-seater appearing in about ten minutes and as the minibus could go much faster than the scheduled bus we were there in very good time to take a train back to Mishima and then the shinkansen to Kyoto. We arrived in time for a walk about the immediate neighbourhood near the station with a massive shrine to be seen when open and including a visit to the roof garden and the ten floors of Isetan department store in Kyoto’s incredible station. A first for us was cherry blossom images on the station steps made from LEDs affixed to the risers.

Underneath the station as with most is a retail and culinary plethora of opportunities. We went for an interesting Japanese take on Italian and on leaving I suggested that if we took the adjacent exit we might be quite close to the hotel. To everyone’s amazement we were right by the lobby steps. I confess it was just good guesswork as these subterranean passages are totally disorientating. A plan was hatched for the next day which involved meeting up with the sister of one of Chris’s mates who happened to be in Kyoto as part of a world tour.

Last look at Tokyo … for now

We decided to have breakfast outside the hotel and just along from it was a Denny’s a restaurant/cafe chain frequently mentioned in Murakami’s books so that was a obvious choice and offered a good mixture of Japanese and western fare. The most stunning thing was that seven-eighths of the space was smoking and we were bundled into the remaining eighth. It’s really a shock to find that in many places people are allowed to smoke freely. Offices, hotels and the trains haven’t been able to ban it completely but all have special smoking rooms where the afflicted/addicted can go.

AA5AAC02-91AB-4BB6-B1DB-E3FC4C009443It’s also odd to see how little obvious recycling there is. I did find this splendid facility in Ueno Park but in general trash seems to be collected unsorted, packing in plastic is extreme and there is certainly no hint of a charge for plastic bags.

After our outing to the north on Wednesday with all the peace and quiet of the countryside we spent Thursday back in the maelstrom that is the Ginza. There’s been a long-standing love of stationery in this family which has been inherited by the younger generation. So first stop was Itoya – 8 floors of amazing craft materials, pens, notebooks and other desirable items where new pens were purchased along with a number of other delightful objects. We had been joined by an old university friend of Chris’s, Will, who lives in Japan and had made the four-hour bus journey from his home to meet up. He’s a great guy and gave us some interesting insights into the life of an expat married to a Japanese wife with young children to bring up bilingually. We all met up in Itoya and then visited Mitsukoshi for an okonomiyaki lunch in the tenth floor food court. We then just had to take the children in particular to see a department store food hall. These are astonishing places with fantastic displays of delicious foods and ingredients. At one of the bakery stalls there were cronuts, that recently invented hybrid of the croissant and the doughnut, so we took some of those for later consumption. While in the centre of the city it would be wrong not to visit the Imperial Palace so we set off there and found Tokyo’s last good cherry blossom for our own hanami picnic in the grand plaza outside the palace where it transpired Chris’s friend had been married. Do they plant a special long-flowering strain especially for the emperor’s benefit?

E86627D9-3A8D-4C09-83CF-F3CA7616F74Fimg_8713-1It was a slight disappointment last time that you really can’t go into the palace grounds as the gardens are said to be spectacular. So we just have to do with pictures by the moat and the iron bridge. A mild amusement though was seeing someone of clear importance being admitted to the palace after repeated checking of permits.

Next was a visit to Hibiya Park where the young ones had fun climbing up to the Liberty Bell and exercising on monkey bars and assorted playground equipment. They so enjoyed themselves it was soon time to walk to the subway at Toranomon which I remembered as my regular starting point back in 1979 when we set off for our lectures and school visits from our base in the nearby Okura Hotel. Back in Asakusa we had a farewell drink with Will before he had to set off for Shinjuku to get his bus home. One of the difficulties we’d encountered had been finding restaurants able to accommodate all seven of us so Jo and Chris took the children for pizza – they had been very tolerant of Japanese food – and Tom, Caroline and I went to a local sashimi, sushi and tempura place that served its tempura with hot dipping sauce – a first for all of us.

img_0025We decided to stay local on Friday and visit Kappabashi Street, the one and a half kilometres of food related shops. They sell everything from industrial scale ovens and fridges to chopsticks and rice bowls. And of course the great attraction – the plastic food plates that adorn the windows of so many establishments and give you a hope of knowing what to order. Plastic food key rings, new chopsticks and a brilliant set of trainer chopsticks with rubber guides for finger position and a hinged top help young people master the art of eating with chopsticks.

img_8728The guides can be adjusted or removed as chopstick proficiency badges are gained. Tom and Caroline had spotted some dishes they wanted to take back home so they went back to buy those and check out of the hotel before returning to Hong Kong that afternoon.

The rest of us went to a drum museum which was superb. There’s a collection of representative drums from all continents and many cultures with good explanations in English. Best aspect however was that there were thirty or more drums and percussive instruments you could bash yourselves, although the signs did say ‘Please play gently’. We spent a happy hour there and then went to meet up to take our farewells from Tom and Caroline.

With our hotel overlooking the Senso-ji Shrine we couldn’t leave Tokyo without its stamp in our hons. So we went there and achieved that and a walk round the grounds before tackling Nakamichi Street the road that leads to the shrine from the Karinomon Gate and is often given the soubriquet ‘Tat Street’ but which does in fact have an amazing variety of goods on sale and we managed to find a gorgeous kimono for my granddaughter and an elegant yukata for her brother.

The tick list was gradually showing a positive reduction but the scramble crossing at Shibuya was next on the list. It still feels pretty mad at ground level but there’s no match for the aerial views on the web. We just couldn’t find a good vantage point in the air that was obvious. A little light store perusal brought a few fashion purchases and then we moved back to the subway Shinjuku bound.

Another of the must see Tokyo phenomenon is the Shinjuku neon and it didn’t disappoint. Even though Dee and I had stayed in Shinjuku five years ago, the advances in animation and displays were staggering and the extent is mind blowing. We were hungry by now and entered Bar Mouton on the fourth floor of a restaurant stack and I suppose should have deduced from its name that it featured lamb, not that common in Japan except in Hokkaido. We all had very tasty and different dishes and a first taste of craft beer from the growing Japanese scene. Looking out of the restaurant window the neon  was so bright you thought it was daylight outside. Bar Mouton featured a pianist who regaled us with all the standards that seem to be the repertoire of lounge pianists the world over. A stroll around the mad streets of Shinjuku and it was time to head on back and get packed for our next phase of the journey.

North to Nikko

When I was first here in 1979 as part of a training delegation from the Inner London Education Authority, apart from workshops at Tokyo University, we were guests at a school in Maebashi for a day of workshops with teachers and classroom observation. Very formal and quite unlike London schools in the 70s. We stayed overnight in teachers’ ryokan style accommodation with futons on tatami floors and a six o’clock rise to salute the flag and greet the day. Mid morning our hosts decided we had earned our supper and drove us to Nikko and Lake Chuzenji. Both made a striking impression on me and I wanted to go back with Dee but time would not allow us to make that trip with everything else we wanted to do and there’s no big Murakami connection. So with the willing (I think) indulgence of all the family we set off for Nikko on Wednesday morning in a Toyota Hi-Ace 9 seater minibus. Our driver Ikeda san was waiting for us promptly at 08:30 and confessed that despite being a professional driver for 35 years he’d never actually driven this particular job before. He seemed pleasant enough, had little English but we got by just fine. The first part of the drive out of Tokyo was quicker than I expected but then was quite dull across the flat Saitama plain with suburbs and occasional rice fields, until after about an hour we started to climb and tree clad hills with good patches of cherry blossom appeared.

img_8593The main attractions of Nikko are the Shinkyo Bridge, a fine vermillion specimen at the top to the town and which is thought to be sacred as the entrance to the shrines, and the Toshogu Shrine complex which climbs through a hillside of massive cedars and has the world renowned monkey carving ‘hear no, see no, speak no evil’ and the most elaborate collection of buildings of any of Japan’s shrines.

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Just outside the car park there’s a culvert in which water appears to flow uphill. It’s an optical illusions as two slightly downhill streams meet and form a whirlpool. My science fan grandson was intrigued by this and deduced a lucid explanation. We then moved on into the main shrine area where there is just so much to see and absorb that a few words from me can’t do it justice. Shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu was credited with founding the first unified Japan in 1600 and his shogunate lasted until the Meiji dynasty started in 1868. So I guess it’s fair that this hillside has more elaborately decorated buildings and sacred places that any other. It’s a world heritage site of course. The atmosphere despite thousands of tourists is serene and stimulating, peaceful and provocative at the same time. Apart from noting that this is where the original wise monkeys originated and of course had to recreated by the family – monkey has been my grandson’s toy of choice since birth – and that there’s also the famous carving of a beautiful sleeping cat, I’ll report that we got two hons stamped, climbed 207 steps to the main shrine – carefully counted and checked by my granddaughter – I’ll let a few pictures convey a sense of the place. I’m so glad I went back as it is really special. We also took time to visit the museum which has lots of interesting artefacts and documents contemporary to Tokugawa’s time. The guidebook said lots of people don’t bother but it was well worth the half an hour to examine the contents portable shrines, swords, scrolls and books. By the way no photography permitted in the main shrine.

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Calligrapher writing in my hon
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The sleeping cat

 

Just a few of the 207
Resting place for the shogun’s remains

Tom’s brilliant IT geekery found a splendid restaurant, Hippari- Dako in Nikko Town which Ikeda San was able to put in his SatNav and get us there in no time. After a morning of walking, most of it up somehow, we needed food and drink. Then it was up to Lake Chuzenji of which I still have the sharpest memory of eating fresh trout from the lake and struggling as a chopstick novice to extract lumps of fish and leave the bones behind. It must just have been so fresh and tasty that it’s stayed with me for nearly 40 years. The lake is spectacular and 1270 metres above sea level. It was formed when Mount Nantai erupted and blocked the valley 20,000 years ago. The water today looks very black and volcanic. The area is not much more developed than when I was last here although I don’t remember swan boats.

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The fun bit of the journey is the approach to Chuzenji up the one-way Iroha winding road. It has 48 hairpin bends which elicited a number of ‘Oh My Gods’ from the children as we powered our way up. We stretched our legs and had a photo call at the lake before moving on to see the Kegon Falls another of Japan’s ‘divine’ waterfalls. However, Ikeda San missed the turning and with great humility and apologies drove us back down and then up again. He did joke that we were likely to be unique in doing the Iroha road twice in one day. The falls were quite impressive but as my daughter ventured ‘It’s no Niagara’ and even Gulfoss which Dee and I visited in Iceland was more impressive in its scale. I did find the noise and apparent weight of water falling pretty impressive.

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We all had ice creams and then settled into the minibus for the trip back to Tokyo. There was some dozing off in the back, unsurprising after our day’s efforts and we hit bad traffic at the approaches to Tokyo so were an hour later than planned getting back to the hotel – only part of that due to Ikeda san’s mistake.

A tiring day, but one which everyone enjoyed and I was very pleased that my wonderful family indulged an old bloke’s desire to take another look at a place remembered more for it sense than it’s actuality during a business trip 40 years ago.

Family matters

The rest of the family were arriving at dawn on Monday and I arranged to meet them at the Karinarimon Gate near the Asakusa train station and our hotel.

 

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We did indeed meet and enjoyed the Senso-ji Shrine in the early morning with no throng of tourists that I’d had to batter my way through last week. Sadly the cherry blossom had faded but it was still a sensational experience to add to travelling from the airport by monorail and train. So as not to let jet lag take over completely we took all the luggage to my room and then whizzed up to the 27th floor for a hearty breakfast. The buffet provides something for everyone: fruit, eggs and bacon, sushi, pickles and miso soup so all could feed to their heart’s content. In order to fill the time until official check in at 3pm we walked the 2 kilometres (brave children after a 12 hour flight!) across the Sumida river to the Tokyo Skytree which was on the tick list.

The elevator to 350 metres high was incredibly fast with ear pops but almost no sense of motion. It was a bit hazy but gave us a great impression of the size of this city – it is vast. It was also interesting to see the number of tennis courts, running tracks and baseball Ds in the immediate vicinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A drink in the food court and a train back to Asakusa ensued and then it really was time to turn my single room into a three person dormitory. An armchair and footstool provided a comfy bed for one and mother and son shared my good sized bed for a single room. The men went and drank beer and waited until the four bedded room was available. They all napped for a bit and then we set off for dinner in a ramen bar where you order from pictures on a screen, present the tickets that print out to the wait staff and then food and drink arrive after some consultation. My son and daughter-in-law had arrived from Kobe by now so we all spent the evening together. An early night followed so as to prepare for a proper day of Tokyo sightseeing. It was great having all of us on holiday in Japan at the same time.

We started Tuesday with a visit to the Meiji shrine and had the bonus of seeing a full blown wedding. Dee and I had enjoyed the process of getting your hon stamped and inscribed at each shrine we visited and I had a spare one which we’ve entrusted to my grandaughter’s enthusiastic care. Following the shrine we walked through the garden where amid the peace and quiet were huge koi and lots of turtles or terrapins. Both kids had researched lots of YouTube videos and wanted to see the heart of Japanese modern kawai culture, Takeshita Street, in nearby Harajuku which we did after a lengthy wait for lunch in the Tokyu Hands department store cafe.

It’s manic and overwhelming but rainbow candy floss was acquired and just at the end of the street was a place where everyone could dress up as samurai to general amusement and mirth.

We wandered on through the winding back streets ad came across a fabulous piece of modern domestic architecture and as so often in a back street a beautiful little shrine. This was the Togo Jingu dedicated to the memory of Admiral Togo who was known as the “Nelson of the East” as he fought so many successful sea battles against the British, Chinese and Russians. A second hon stamping of the day occurred. The shrine provided a fine moment of regrouping and contemplation and was such a contrast to the mayhem of Takeshita Street just 200 metres away.

Tom and Caroline had friends to meet so we set off back to base, me via Tokyo station to buy tickets for our trips to Nishi Izu on Saturday and Kyoto on Sunday. The five of us then went for a spectacular teppanyaki dinner which had none of the (over) acting that often occurs at UK teppanyaki places but just a chef who cared and quickly clocked that he could tease my granddaughter with fish and vegetables and then be staggered at the way she devoured steak, Prior to the delicious Wagyu beef we had whole prawns – heads, tails, everything – and sea bass and a salad. Yes I’m well prepared – beer with the fish red wine to go with the meat, but eating a healthy and delicious salad to begin.

img_0023Steak was cooked to our precise tastes followed by bean sprouts and fried rice. Happy tour party returned to base well pleased with a day well spent. I won’t dwell on the fact that I had to break all the sky bar’s rules (no children, no glasses taken outside) to get my daughter a glass of wine in the 20th floor viewing room which we had commandeered as our lounge. Tom and Caroline returned and we all caught up and then retired to prepare for the next day’s trip to Nikko.

Kobe comforting break

05421F8E-B7F8-4AE7-9431-AD3A3B267DA0On Thursday evening, work done for the day, Caroline asked the concierge for a recommendation for a typically Japanese restaurant. Motomachi Ioka proved exactly that. This is the menu, the only one available. While able to read most of it Caroline didn’t feel like spending the entire evening translating for us. So we watched as the sole, hard working chef prepared dishes and then indicated we’d like that too. In one case seeing him construct croquette-style patties with onion and potato Caroline asked what they were called to be told they were creama crockets so we had some.

 

They were oishi and the chef appreciated our approval. After a few more dishes and glasses of sake we were ready for a good night’s sleep. Travel tiredness for some, work tiredness for others. Comfort for me – no trains tomorrow.

Dee and I had really enjoyed the Nunobiki Herb Garden on our visit five years ago and we were all happy to spend a morning riding the cable car to the top of the mountain and walking halfway down through the most marvellous variety of flowers and trees with panoramic views of Kobe harbour. The journey starts just outside Shin Kobe Station and the view down to the port over Ikutagawa Park with its pale cherries in full bloom and the river cascading through a culvert was a great start.

E029D9E0-5015-47B7-BE67-FEF945C6AE58The herb garden is divided up into a number of themed areas and is pleasantly informative and a gently curving path wends its way downward.

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There’s also a chance to view the Nunobiki Falls which has been the subject of poems, paintings and prints as far back as the tenth century. It’s one of the top three ‘divine’ falls in Japan, whatever that means. We’ll see another on on Wednesday, the Kegon Falls north of Nikko. You can hike all the way back to Kobe but conveniently there’s a boarding point halfway down as well so we were whisked to the bottom in time to find lunch in the Crown Plaza’s Oriental City. We chose a lunch set which proved tasty enough but nap-inducing in quantity, so rather than walking to the station we took a taxi to our next destination, The Hakutsuru Sake Brewery Museum. As we arrived we were intrigued by the behaviour of three gardeners who appeared to be scouring the lawn with tweezers but unfortunately we couldn’t see what they were actually up to.

 

The museum gave a good explanation of the sake making process and included a tasting, during which Tom made a new friend. Pepper helpfully directed you towards purchasing the sake most suited to your tastes.

 

We did catch a train back into Sannonomiya, Kobe’s main railway station as I wanted to visit the earthquake memorial park at Higashi Yuenchi which we had seen only through pouring rain five years ago. Today it was warm and sunny and ideal. But we reached it through that very Japanese route a: massive underground retail mall under the station with numbered exits to go up to street level.
The Great Hanshin Earthquake of 1985 is the stimulus for a Murakami book After the Quake in which he weaves fictional stories of people affected by the earthquake in what was his original home town. Tom and Caroline left me snapping and walked back to the hotel.

D9C09E14-E678-4777-84DE-BA5A972F3F1CI also walked back through the main (posh) shopping area of Kobe stopping at the small Sannomiya Shrine which is very small and simple and surrounded by high-end retail. Japan’s oldest shrine the Ikura is a short walk away. The Sannomiya, like most shrines I’ve been too somehow creates an area of calm amid the bustle. Apart from its history as a place of worship it bears a plaque commemorating the insult given by foreign sailors in 1868 which resulted in the Japanese Bizen troop commander firing at all foreigners and then committing seppuku, ritual suicide, because of the shame he’d brought on his people.

We decided just to walk back into the Motomachi area for dinner and pick a lively-looking locale for dinner. Again there was no menu in English but by asking for some tempura and enquiring whether they had gyoza, resulted in the chef putting gyoza fillings into the tempura batter rather than dumpling pastry and a delicious dish was invented just for us. This was a tiny bar where we suspect they rarely saw gaijin but were extremely welcoming and I apparently gained huge brownie points when I added a domo in front of arrigato to say thank you. It was what I was told was appropriate back on my first visit in 1979 and unsurprisingly is now considered very formal and polite. Well that’s me!

We rose early on Saturday and caught the train to Hiroshima which is only an hour away on the Nozomi Superexpress. We boarded the City Loop bus passing Hiroshima Castle, the Art Museum and alighted at the Atmic Bomb Memorial Museum where a series of excellent displays, video testimony from survivors and recovered artefacts make for an informative and reflective display. You do wonder how anyone could ever have taken such a decision knowing full well what the outcome would be. And then do it again in Nagasaki. And today we have chemical weapons in Syria and Salisbury, nuclear stockpiles only somewhat diminished and history’s lessons remain seemingly unlearned.

41A0BB16-F7C5-4974-B2F6-16913F61BC92.jpegThe peace park is one of Hiroshima’s most popular Hanami sites and the picnickers were out in full with blankets, bento boxes and selfie-sticks well to the fore.

There’s a very impressive subterranean hall where 140,000 tiles represent the number of A-Bomb victims and the central fountain 8:15 – the moment the bomb was dropped. A sombre space for reflection and remembrance.

 

We walked on into the town centre and found space in a traditional and very popular restaurant where we were show to a dining platform where I was expecting a hole under the table to accommodate legs but there was none. So being quite tall and unaccustomed to cross-legged dining we shuffled about uncomfortably until we spotted a group leaving a table with stools which would prove much more accommodating for Tom’s 6 foot 4 and my 6 foot 2 frames. So Tom as quickest of access was despatched to secure it while we struggled to join him and make it firmly ours. This did result in the next party to arrive being shown to our platform – something which the matron of the party regarded with some displeasure. Hey she was younger than me anyway and their limbs grow up able to contort in comfort. Sitting smugly enjoying our noodles and beer in pottery beakers, I realised that while I had picked up my camera bag in the scramble I hadn’t got my phone so I went across and asked politely if they’d mind looking for a mobiru around their platform. By pointing and holding my hand to my ear they understood and eventually fished it out to my great relief and embarrassment. However domo worked wonders again and we parted all smiles.

After lunch we walked to Hiroshima Castle a “faithful” replica rebuilt in 1958. It has an impressive moat and a shrine where I was able to add a stamp to the hon we had started in 2013. Sadly here they give you a cloakroom type counter and take it off behind curtains to do the calligraphy. I much prefer to watch them do it while you wait.

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On our way to the castle tower we passed three dogs being taken for a carry,

A6C443DB-C9E1-48C8-B069-51C03F1D55AFThe castle tower was quite tall and probably had great views but it looked like a lot of steps for an old chap with left leg sciatica problems – and Caroline’s not fond of heights so we admired from the ground. Probably just as well or we might have found ourselves like this. F8A95007-EF8B-4805-B050-E35A1F445E6D

 

 

 

 

We then moved on to the Sukkien Gardens which were a little disappointing compared to the great gardens until I read the sign on the way out which explains that the name means ‘shrunken view garden’ so it was always planned as a miniature example of the Japanese gardener’s art. It had many of the usual features and was popular with newly weds – or just people who rented a kimono and suit to dress up for the day,

It also had cherry blossom trees that combined different colours on the same tree.

It rounded off an interesting day trip to a city completely rebuilt since the 1950s with wide boulevards and straight blocks.

The train whisked back to Kobe for a shower and change before going to a hotel-recommended shabu shabu restaurant. It was very smart and involved two shoe removals – one’s own and then their slippers before entering a tatami room with low tables and thank goodness holes for legs beneath. This cooking style involves boiling water at your table to which are added vegetables to make a broth into which you dip mushrooms, cabbage, carrots and of course Kobe beef which you then dip in ponzu or sesame sauces. DF797865-D29B-46AC-B613-0576C68332CB.jpegTruly delicious and something I had last done properly in 1979 as guests of the ministry of education. We thought the sake we’d selected a little sweet to start with but it went very well with the food.

When Dee and I were here we’d had an uproarious night with some young students in a Spanish tapas bar so as a contrast to the refined dining we’d just experienced we set off to find the Bar Mar, It was still there and as a result of Tom showing them a photograph from my blog of five years ago, we received a complimentary plate of serrano ham to go with our Tempranillo. Caroline revealed that in the last three days we’d walked thirty kilometres so an early-ish night and respite for tired legs was in order. I stupidly fired up Hornets Player and listened to a comfortable victory over Bournemouth at last – until extra time when that damned Defoe equalised. Angry sleep.

Caroline had researched brunch in Kobe so we headed out for the harbour front to a place in an old red brick warehouse nicely converted into restaurants and retail. There was a farmers market and a flea market in full swing as we passed. The food presentation was a little odd: huge sandwiches, my granola was served on toast with cream cheese and maple syrup and Tom consumed a huge ‘Full Aussie”. Back to the hotel to pack up, taxi to the station and just make the train back to Tokyo. There was terrible congestion in the drop off area and my driver couldn’t find anywhere to let me out. Then my ticket got refused by the automatic gate and I had to get it stamped at the window and rush up to the top of the escalator where the train and I made simultaneous appearances. I’m leaving travel arrangements to younger people in future. However I am hurtling back to Tokyo after a very pleasant trip down south.

Plain sailing?

The Abu Dhabi pause was a pleasant enough break and refreshing. The flight to Tokyo was not. It lasted nearly ten hours and there were noisy children and a pleasant but fidgety neighbour who was on her way back to Japan from a visit to Brussels. Upshot – lots of reading – no sleep. Clearance at Narita airport was slow but by the time I made it to the station there was a direct train to Asakusa leaving in 5 minutes. It was busy but fine and the announcements keep you well aware of where you are and there’s an electronic tracker as well which flips from Japanese to English every minute or so. The hotel was an easy walk from Asakusa Station – on the map. In practice with two suitcases it took forever through the masses of tourists (many Japanese among them) admiring the cherry blossom at the Senso-ji Temple which lay on the direct route. There may be a few bruised shins out there!

77643546-E14B-4CBB-AC92-1891F1782E37Checked into my room I was able to congratulate the hotel on its choice of name: Asakusa View Hotel. Did what it said on the tin.  Skytree still looks big but Senso-Ji  and the Pagoda look quite small from up here. I was also able to confirm that our timing for hanami is perfect and the Asakusa Pagoda looked as good as ever from the ground.

 

 

I made contact with my son Tom who’d just arrived from Hong Kong and arranged to meet at his hotel later – his wife was already in Tokyo for a series of business meetings. So I checked out the bar and had a refreshing beer and then showered and changed and set off back to Asakusa Station to take the subway down to the Government District. After a long subterranean march the subway exit led straight to the hotel lobby. There are great maps in the stations showing you places of interest and indicating which exit you should use. I must have missed those in Rome at Christmas or maybe they don’t have them there.

Caroline returned from the office with a recommendation for a yakitori restaurant just round the corner. A fine recommendation it was too but finding it reminded me that you have to suspend European notions of looking for restaurants and remembrance to look up. There are often lengthy strips of restaurant names on many of the floors above street level. This was on the second floor with a confusing lack of entrance method – you have to slide the door. Once in we were welcomed and fed well with chicken, duck, mushroom and asparagus skewers with a variety of sauces and accompaniments. Great fun and an easy dinner for an early night since I’d now been up continuously for about 30 hours. Caroline correctly predicted a wake up at 3 am but after a bit of awakeness the effect of the wine took over and I slept till 7 Tokyo time.

I decided to sort out my other flights so a morning of, I hope, successful admin was followed by another travel nightmare. I took the subway to Nihonbashi and walked the short distance to Tokyo Station and was ensconced in the appropriately named Aged Coffee, news of which I WhatsApped to Tom. Except he didn’t get it and I didn’t get his increasingly frantic messages or calls, and mine wouldn’t connect to his phone. I had failed to activate roaming when offered it in Abu Dhabi since I ddin’t want it there and station WiFi wasn’t working well enough. I managed to blag my way to Track 18 where the train would depart from on our trip to Kobe but the guard wouldn’t let me on despite my protestations that my son was on the train with my ticket. So I waved the 12:10 goodbye – they weren’t going to break their punctuality record for a ticketless vagabond were they? Finally Caroline managed to call me on her phone and we were able to discuss the problem. I then whizzed back to the ticket office bought a cheap unreserved seat and am now on the12:30 to Kobe and will catch up with Tom and Caroline a little later.

F6C5DE02-5522-4096-ACE1-C13F23B6A275Nice clear view of Mount Fuji as we passed through Hakone. [Tom’s photo credit – I was stuck in the middle] Hope it’s as good for the grandchildren next week when at least we’ll all be starting from the same hotel and might just keep together.

Once in Kobe, Tom and I went for a walk along through Meriken Park while Caroline had more reports to write after her meetings in Tokyo. A sign informs us it’s a local attempt to spell America! One of it’s great attractions is Frank Gehry and Tadao Andao’s Dancing Fish but we refrained from leaping. 36533353-D519-4F31-8092-60F4E99AA590

Eastward Ho – nearly not

I’m never flying in March again. My flight to Amsterdam at the start of the month turned into a scrambled (but very pleasant) trip on Eurostar. My slightly worrying plan to drive to Liverpool after removing 2 inches of snow from my car first thing Saturday morning in middle March turned out to be an absolute breeze and a great weekend – post match – with our friends Tony and Lorraine Brown noted Liverpool artists. And now it’s off to Tokyo also in March.

Well the day started well for my latest travel adventure. The alarm went off, I showered, remembered to put my Swiss Army knife in the hold bag not my jeans and my trusty Data Car turned up 5 minutes early. We made good progress through wet, grey London and arrived at Terminal 4 at Heathrow for my planned rapid check in and then leisurely breakfast in the Lounge. But wait – a little problem lies ahead.

729978A4-E309-4C7B-9721-04F456BEC732My name is entered in the Etihad system as RAGGETT/MIKE but my name on my passport says RAGGETT/MICHAEL and for security reasons they have to match. Don’t know how it happened but they won’t check me in. I am presented with a call centre number which I dial, run through the options and am told my call is ending now. So I dial again and press different options and eventually speak to Marije who is in Belgrade and tells me I need to photograph my passport (thank God I have a phone with that capability – trying to grab it in a Photo-Me booth boggles the mind) and reply to an email she’ll send me. No email arrives. I try Heathrow WiFi. I switch that off and try 4G. Still no email. So I go through all the button pushing again and eventually and miraculously, reconnect with Marije. She gives me her email address and I despatch my passport’s photo – not a work of art taken while balancing it on a suitcase and using the camera on a new phone for the first time. By now the best part of an hour has passed and there are only two staff left at the check in desks who urge me to hurry. I explain that while I may appear to be on the phone, I’m actually hearing Balkan ‘hold’ music and can’t tell it to hurry. Marije’s voice returns after an age to tell me that it’s fixed in the system and will cost me $149.90 (how?). So I now have to dig out a credit card, read her the details three times – for security – and then go to the desk where a frustrated agent had really wanted to close five minutes ago. She puts a Tokyo label on my case after I ask her to remove the one for Abu Dhabi and then a suited gentleman colleague escorts me straight to the gate. My original refusenik check in agent says, “Oh you made the flight!” With a rather surprised tone. I am on the flight by the skin of my teeth but have to go to the transfer desk at Abu Dhabi to get a boarding card for the flight on to Tokyo.

So that’s an error I won’t make again – rely on a boarding pass on my phone – even their printed version above didn’t help. I had entered my details with the full Michael on the Etihad site in order to check in online yesterday so where the discrepancy arose I don’t know. I’ll be looking carefully at my other bookings to Singapore and back to the UK to make sure I don’t miss breakfast or have to fork out 150 bucks. The joys of travel!

Amends are made half way with a beer and food in the Al Reem Lounge at Abu Dhabi airport. Bring on the orient! After all I do have a valid boarding pass for this leg.

Some time on Tuesday/Wednesday, Abu Dhabi Airport

Not so wintery break 3

So after a great gig and a late-ish night for an old bloke like me, it was a lie in to watch Match of the Day – at least the bit featuring Watford’s win, which had been followed by all in the sound check yesterday through my phone updates. After a leisurely breakfast I took a tram ride to Central Station ready to catch a train to Utrecht. Once again the ease and efficiency of travel were everywhere apparent, And to make things better there had been an upward temperature shift of more than ten degrees. We were now in + degrees and layers were back in the suitcase. I knew I’d arrive ahead of normal check in time but went to the Dom Hotel first to leave my bag, Getting out of Utrecht station is a bit like getting into the London Stadium – you have to go through an enormous shopping mall, Hoog Catharijne. And it could easily double as Westfield as, sadly, almost all the shops and cafes are international brands. Just one caught my eye that might not do so well in England – a menswear shop called Sissy Boy.

Dom TorThe hotel was an easy ten minute walk towards Utrecht’s defining monument, the Dom Tower. Even I couldn’t get lost looking for Domstraat. I did have a slight worry when I had to ring the doorbell to gain entry. It’s a hotel in progress as the eleven suites (they are worthy of the epithet rather than just rooms) are all there and beautifully appointed but the bar and restaurant won’t open until next week end, Staff were helpful and went to check whether housekeeping had a room available and I was quickly signed in and shown to a spacious second floor room with windows on two sides and views out over the inner city.

 

 

Dom Hotel suite 3

I got a call from Alan to say they were leaving their hotel and would be at the venue in about an hour, Just the right time for a stroll back towards the north side of the station via a modern bar restaurant for lunch and a beer. It was so modern that it’s the first I’ve ever been in where you can only play by card – no cash accepted.

 

Tivoli Vredenburg extI haven’t Googled it but I guess there was an old Tivoli theatre as there is an older building behind the massive new music centre which opened in 2014. Do we have so many modern music and/or theatre venues in the UK? If not, and I suspect not, maybe the “creative industries” should step up their lobbying. This place had several gigs on and a cafe that must have been making good money for it. There are nine different halls each designed with an acoustic suited to particular music forms. We were in Cloud Nine the blue semicircle that sticks out at the top. A good name for a jazz club. I make my way up through the public area and collect my guest ticket which ominously bears no number but the words “Rij Stoel ” but also the legend Vrijkaart which meant I was a guest and there indeed I later found an isolated chair to the right side of the stage. But again a helpful employee said “You must be Mike” and I was escorted through to the green room and met up with all my new friends from yesterday and Skid. They had done the sound check by the time I got there and we had time for a few jokes and general chatter and it was time to go on stage. This was a 4 pm Sunday Afternoon Jazz slot. Again it’s a very modern room but with a great atmosphere.

They played a slightly different set list from yesterday but the saxophone summit was soon burning up the hall. There was a long bar along one side but it was notable that very few people got up to get a drink during the set and then there was a rush at the interval. Truly jazz at the highest level and I don’t just mean because we were on Level 9. The Rein de Graaff Trio play together frequently and are a tuneful, slick and inventive rhythm section worthy of playing behind anyone. I’ve long admired Alan Skidmore‘s ability to play the hardest of hard bop and tender lyrical ballads always with solos that intrigue, dazzle and entertain. I had not heard Benjamin Herman before but was very impressed with his performances and likewise Tineke Postma was unknown to me before these gigs but her albums will be on my download list very shortly after I get back home. She, as they say, really ripped the place up.

Another chance to chill after the gig and take my farewells from Benjamin, Tineke and Eric – I went to the garage again with Alan, Rein and Marius who were heading off back to their hotel out in the countryside. It was not too difficult to get out this time and I popped back to the hotel to sort out photos before going out for a pleasant dinner in the busy heart of Utrecht to a restaurant recommended by the helpful staff at the Dom Hotel.

Canal with Dom TorI had some work-related stuff to do on Monday but once that was complete had a chance to walk around other parts of this delightful city. I decided that my feet were too old to climb the 465 steps to the top of the Dom Tower and of course the top part is clad in scaffolding  at present during restoration – well it was built in 1382 to it probably needs a bit of tlc. It rises to 112 metres making it the tallest church tower in the Netherlands. I did take a look at St Martin’s Cathedral next door which has a very fine cloister and then walked along the Oudegracht or old canal, sparkling in the unexpected warm spring sunshine and with the Dom Tower dominating the skyline. Then back up through another canal-side park towards the market place and the old centre. I realised I was running short on euros and consulted Google maps for the nearest ATM. I dutifully followed the steps but there’s no bank in sight. The map said it was bang next door to Lush, the soap shop. Now I’m not very fond of the odours that emerge from Lush but I manned up and walked in with my phone to enquire if they knew where it was. Total blankness from the first assistant but then her colleague said that it was inside the Hema shop opposite. Now able to buy a coffee I continued to walk through old Utrecht.

Cafe societyIt was interesting to see that the minute the sun comes out again people love to eat and drink outdoors and there were many examples of lunch time cafe society as I moved through the city. I joined them and then it was then time to catch a train back to  Amsterdam, the Thalys to Brussels and Eurostar back to London, completing a highly enjoyable short break.

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Winter break 2

Amsterdam did have a flurry of snow overnight so I took the concierge’s advice and caught the tram to Museumplein for my art morning, Transport was easy to navigate, trains are informative so you know where you are. One thing I noticed with taxi driver, waiters, hotel staff and the tram employees was that they are Dutch. As one used only to being served or driven by east Europeans, this came as quite a shock and was continued throughout my stay. Are such jobs better paid here by comparison or as in Spain just treated with greater respect? Proper jobs perhaps?

I think it was probably more than 30 years ago that I was in the Rijksmuseum and rather like the BM and V&A they have built a great glass canopy over the courtyard which makes for a more pleasant and warmer experience. And what a delightful museum it is. Paintings displayed with space to view them. Only a few cases where you have to crick your neck to look at images high on their walls. Which incidentally I did in the concert last night – the stage in Concert Gebouw is very high and I thought I may have been better off with a seat in the balcony rather than the stalls.

I’ve seen reproductions of the Night Watch before but it does take your breath away with the staggering amount of narrative detail Rembrandt included. There’s a brilliant printed guide in the gallery that points out the most salient aspects – I would not have spotted them all without. There are several brilliant other Rembrandt’s and a series of gorgeous but surprisingly small Vermeers. The galleries are well supplied with benches from which to sit and contemplate and although it was getting busier as I left around two o’clock, it had been a very pleasurable visit. No eye-glazing and a  handy highlights leaflet to save you looking at absolutely every Dutch landscape which – heresy – can start to look a little samey and as we’re in the Netherlands dare I say flat.

3207F4F2-F621-4F79-825D-6924C6CF3120Just along from the museum is Amsterdam’s famous Vondelpark so I went for a stroll  there with loads more skaters on the lakes including an impromptu ice hockey game, joggers on the pathways and cycles ridden it seemed by Michelin men and women – puffa jackets seem de rigeur. Leidseplein is the tourist epicentre for bars, restaurants and clubs so it was now time for a beer and a snack. I found a good traditional bar Reynders and after refuelling I walked back to the centre. On the way I had a very reassuring phone call from my neighbour John who had heard me coughing in the night earlier in the week, noticed that the  window shutters were closed and called to check that I was alive and well. Aren’t neighbours just wonderful?

BimhuisIt was a great route crossing all the big central canals and finishing up in Dam Square. From there it was a further kilometre or so to Central Station and then along the Ij to reach Bimhuis a magnificent music venue built about ten years ago where I was due to meet my friend Alan Skidmore for the sound check before their concert that evening. It was quite fun arriving across a angled bridge over the canal up to the empty venue and being escorted from reception to the green room with the greeting “You must be Mike”, They knew I was coming, had they baked a cake? Well no but there was beer in the fridge and an unbelievably warm reception for a random Brit who just happens to be Skid’s mate and webmaster. Despite being an ace saxophonist, Skid’s a drummer manqué and got a chance to sit at the kit in the sound check.

8952C0BE-9C3F-41F7-9B42-56E02A8FC884

While waiting for crew dinner, I bought my own by the way from an excellent menu in the Bimhuis café, we discovered an advertisement in a magazine for the Skidmore Jazz Institue so this deserves further investigation and maybe some royalty payments. I have to say that I’ve always found jazz musicians a friendly bunch and these were no exception. Jokes were told – which many had heard often before no doubt – but were well received. Then it was time to leave the backstage and get up to the venue again.

57EDB46E-395D-4125-8A7B-9E7C2A3B82BF
Alan Skidmore (tenor), Rein de Graaff (piano), Tineke Postma (alto and soprano) Benjamin Herman (alto) Marius Beets (bass) and Eric Ineke (drums) about to mount the stairs for the saxophone summit.

The gig was an absolutely stormer. A superb Dutch rhythm section who have played with all the jazz greats on tours in Europe really got things swinging and then the front line of Skid who doesn’t know the meaning of giving less than everything even though he’ll be knackered next day, Benjamin who is English but lives in Holland and is applying for a passport with some speed and plays a mean solo and the rose between the (t)horns Tineke Postma who was an absolute revelation to me. Where does all that power, lyricism and invention come from? There were two sets which were rapturously received by the full house. John Coltrane’s Impressions was the closing number and he would have been nodding his approval had he been here.

Bimhuis Benjamin soloing   Bimhuis Tineke alto solo  Bimhuis Skid close up

Then it’s back to the green room for more beer and wine and try to chill a bit while adrenaline levels are raging. I then help the guys down to the basement car park with their gear as they set off for a hotel near Utrecht ready for tomorrow’s gig. I then try to find my way out of the nearly deserted building into the very cold night air. Fortunately I was able to flag down a cab before too long. They didn’t play Round Midnight but that had long gone so walking back to the hotel was not really on tonight.

Wintery break 1

I went to a Japan Foundation talk by Hideo Furukawa called Murakami and I at King’s Place on Wednesday the last day of February. It was touch and go as to whether Southeastern Trains would get me to London Bridge in time to get a tube to King’s Cross. At least I didn’t have to walk along the tracks at Lewisham. It was odd being back at King’s Place because last year at this time I was there every Wednesday for six weeks on my Guardian masterclass writing course. By a coincidence I had just finished the first draft of the promised novel that afternoon. A layoff for a while and then much revision lie ahead followed by the quest for an agent and publisher. The talk was interesting and as much about Furukawa as Murakami and a bit too narrowly focused on a couple of  books for my liking but worth struggling through the snow for.

Thursday should have seen the official opening of the Watford Community Trust’s 25th Anniversary exhibition at the Watford Museum but it was sensibly postponed. So my plan to drive after the opening to Southend for a flight to Amsterdam on Friday morning needed revising to. EasyJet had cancelled all Southend flights on the Thursday and after a lengthy time on hold I spoke to a customer services person who  advised me that they wouldn’t be flying on Friday either. So in the hope and promise of a refund I booked a Eurostar train for Friday morning as being the more likely option. The train from Lee to London Bridge on this occasion was on time and I got to St Pancras in good time only to discover that there would be a one-hour delay before departure. So it was off to Pret for a coffee and read the paper patiently. Because of the late departure and slow running speeds on the UK track I’m entitled to a partial refund. There was a bit of confusion at Brussels where we had to take a different connecting train to Amsterdam (of course there’s a direct London Amsterdam service but that starts next month!) but in the company of a young trainee doctor whose luggage I’d pulled down from the rack we made it onto the Thalys to Amsterdam expecting to stand all the way but miraculously there were two seats and we enjoyed a lively conversation all the way to Amsterdam. I was very surprised given all the weather maps displayed on TV this week to find that there was no snow at all in France, Belgium or the Netherlands. But it was very cold so I took a cab from Central Station to my hotel which was opposite Amsterdam Zoo – I didn’t visit but was regaled with a wide variety of animal and bird calls. It’s in a pleasant part of the city and I chose it because it – according to Google Maps – was less than thirty minutes walk to my main destinations in the city: Concert Gebouw and the Rijksmuseum to the west and Bimhuis to the north east.

The concierge at the hotel was amazed that I was setting out to walk and advised me of suitable trams or I could rent a bicycle. However you see a place better on foot so I set off for Museumplein winding across canals, being terrified by whizzing cyclists who seem to have all rights of way. I knew it happened by it still came as a shock to see people skating on the canals, especially those that included liquid water too. Despite the Winter Olympics I resisted the temptation. D5570E3A-12E5-42AA-91C2-7A74B3A56A71After a pleasant stroll, well wrapped up against the minus 8 according to my phone, it was time for a pause in the journey for a beer. A fine old cafe Mulder presented itself on my route and it seemed rude to refuse. Wooden bar and tables and a good old-fashioned atmosphere with a selection of drought and bottled beers – just what was required. I soon after arrived outside the imposing Rijksmuseum which was on the agenda for tomorrow. 4AD41ECE-0EE5-4E20-B018-9DDA462E7D0DAcross the park behind it was the concert hall for which I had tickets for 8.15 pm in an hour and a half. Perfect time to find another bar and have a pre-concert snack. Again I was lucky to find a table in a very popular place Gruter – it was reserved from 7.30 but I promised to be gone by then. It was very lively and I struck up a conversation with a couple from just outside Utrecht who were flat sitting while their daughter was off skiing. They said I’d done well to find the bar as it’s reckoned to be one of the hidden gems.

Time for classical music. I’d never been to Concert Gebouw and as one of the world’s most famous auditoria I thought I should. The programme with the Netherlands Chamber Orchestra and Choir was fairly safe: Vaughn Williams Tallis Fantasia and Faure’s Requiem both of which I know well. But the first item was the world premiere of a piece by Guillaume Connesson, a French composer who I’m afraid had escaped my radar. Called Liturgies of Light it was an accessible piece which did indeed depict the idea of light falling in different ways. The choir sang beautifully and the music progressed serenely to a great climax. The Faure was a poignant experience because the last time we saw it performed was in Canterbury Cathedral where our good friend from Boston Pat Weiler was singing in a visiting choir. Dee and I had dinner with Pat after the concert and sadly neither of these two wonderful women is with us any longer, so I sat through it with a rather lumpy throat. It is a great concert hall with a fine sound and I enjoyed my evening thoroughly. They even provide a free glass of wine at the interval. I was idly admiring the plaques with composers’ names that surround the hall when I was struck by Dopper whom I’m afraid I’ve never heard of and Roentgen who I thought invented x-rays, among most predictable candidates like Bach, Mahler and Wagner. The walk back to the hotel was extremely cold so I was grateful for my many layers. So Friday was travel and classical music, tomorrow brings art and jazz.