My first Christmas in Amsterdam started with work. That is the reason I'm here and that is what I have mostly been doing for the last two weeks. I'm staying in a wonderful house, but I really have not had much time to get to know it very well. I wake up, go to work, come home and go to sleep. I could easily go back to the house during meal breaks, but I spend most of that time with everyone else. I don't think any of them live a few blocks away, so we usually go to a food court right around the corner. It is indoors, as clean as can be, and best of all, away from any tourist attractions. If you are wandering around Dam Square, you will never accidentally walk into this place. As an international food court, the choices are pretty limited, but Spain, France, Italy, Germany, Mexico, China, Japan, Vietnam, India and Holland are well represented.
My time here might be all work and little play, but Christmas is Christmas. Amsterdammers celebrate it like there is no tomorrow. Museumplein is now Christmas Village, with a long, thin ice skating rink right in the middle. It is also a 15 minute walk from my house. Ice skating might not be the national sport of the Netherlands, but every single person in Amsterdam seems to know how to gracefully glide across the ice. I'm from Minnesota, so no slouch either, but it has been a while. We don't skate all that much in Hong Kong.
There are Christmas markets all over the place and the city is adorned from head to toe with festive lights and decorations. This is a beautiful city at any time of year, but the tasteful Christmas lights really add a special touch. They could have easily gotten carried away and put up everything but the kitchen sink. Someone in charge clearly understands that less is more. The lights are there to enhance the natural beauty of the city rather than drown it out. Amsterdam is nothing like Hong Kong.
Dam Square has a giant Christmas tree, similar to Rockefeller Center, but far less crowded and, in my opinion, more beautiful. Again, it is a case of understated elegance instead of garish excess. The RAI convention center is now Winter Paradise, with a large ice skating rink, Ferris wheel, toboggan slide, and cross country skiing. The Bloemenmarkt, which is one of the best places to buy flowers on this planet, now sells Christmas trees. Or at least it did at the beginning of the week. I found that interesting because I never saw any Christmas trees on previous trips to Amsterdam, so I don't associate the two, and we do not have Christmas tree lots in Hong Kong. It is like growing up with an animal that went extinct, but then you see a few again.
From what I can tell, Christmas in Amsterdam is not about buying cheap crap made in China. That is one thing the United States and Hong Kong have in common. For the people of Amsterdam, Christmas seems to be about spending time with family, eating festive food and enjoying a special time of the year. The Christmas markets sell small items you can buy as gifts, but they are unequivocally nothing like Walmart. Most people opt for the food and endless gallons of alcohol. One thing I noticed at every Christmas market I went to was oliebollen, a deep fried dough dessert, similar to a jelly donut without any filling. It looked like every stall had their own recipe and they all looked pretty good.
The absolute best thing about Christmas this year was not food or winter weather or tasteful holiday lighting. It was my present from Lily, my best friend, roommate (in Hong Kong) and sister from up north. When I moved in to the Amsterdam house, there were a few issues that needed to be addressed, but most of them were taken care of while I was away. One of the bathroom doors did not close properly. I came home from work one day and it was magically fixed. I don't really like the idea of people coming into the house while no one is home, but that is the only way anything is ever going to get done.
The very first time I heard the doorbell ring, I assumed it was someone coming to fix something. Instead, I opened the door to see Lily, in Amsterdam, standing on my stoep. It was the greatest present I could ever ask for. I love a good surprise, and this one was unbeatable. She managed to find out where I would be and when, and fly across the world without me suspecting a thing. In hindsight, I should have wondered why she wanted such detailed information about my schedule that week, but we always know each other's schedules in Hong Kong.
I might have mentioned this once or twice before, but I was in a bit of a car accident last year. Lily was my home nurse throughout a long and grueling recovery, and she never complained once. She probably complained every step of the way, but I chose not to hear it. The important thing is that she was there every day. I don't need her to keep an eye on me anymore physically, but she did not want me to spend Christmas alone. Kevin, my other best friend, roommate and brother from up north, could not come. He has a real job in a country that does not celebrate Christmas. He usually works during our most important holidays, but he gets plenty of Chinese days off.
The Amsterdam house has more than enough room for three people. I currently only have one roommate, and she is out of town. Lily staying at a hotel was never a consideration. It was a little sad that her boyfriend was alone at Christmas, but he was busy enough not to notice, and it was nice to have the house all to ourselves. And since I had to work, Lily had it all to herself much of the time. I only hope she closed the curtains. Amsterdam houses are nice, but the neighbors are entirely too close.
When I had some free time, we hit the town. As a Canadian, Lily felt right at home on ice skates. She spent more time at the Christmas markets than I did, and bought entirely too many unnecessary trinkets. There was no snow this Christmas. It never dipped below 5 degrees. It was overcast pretty much the entire time and there was a little rain here and there, but it was a very mild winter as far as we were concerned.
Lily loved the mulled wine, which was available practically everywhere. She thought the oliebollen were ok, but preferred the banketstaaf, a flaky pastry filled with almond paste, and appelflappen. When it comes to donuts, she thinks nothing in the world can compare with Tim Hortons. That sounds strange, but I generally feel the same way about Krispy Kreme. I went to Tim Hortons a few times when I was in Barcelona, which made Lily proud, but I always got the timbits, which she found sacrilegious.
I had to work during the two days of Christmas, so there was no official Christmas dinner, but we had a full kitchen and I made sure to do plenty of grocery shopping before everything closed. Few restaurants are open on the 25th and 26th, but home cooked meals are always better on holidays anyway. And, for some bizarre reason, there is no Krispy Kreme or Tim Hortons in Amsterdam. It's a great city otherwise.
One basic staple I never bothered to get was flour. I don't live here full time and I mostly use flour for breads and desserts. Amsterdam has some of the best bakeries in the world and, with all the Christmas markets, finding cookies and muffins was not difficult. Of course, without flour, I could not make pasta, pizza or pancakes, but we managed to survive. Lily especially missed my brownies, but she was more than satisfied when I told her that I could make peanut butter cookies. We only had peanut butter because I found an interesting looking bottle at Albert Heijn.
She said they were the best peanut butter cookies I have ever made, so we had to get a few more bottles to bring home. But for all we know, it could be the eggs. In Amsterdam, we got free range, organic, environmentally-approved eggs. In Hong Kong, packaging is not always trustworthy. In fact, earlier this year, millions of eggs imported from the United States were recalled because of a salmonella contamination. Last year, European eggs were recalled after they were tested for pesticides. Ironically, most of those eggs came from the Netherlands. Even more ironically, Hong Kong imports eggs from Europe and the United States out of fear that eggs from Mainland China are less clean.
Regardless of whatever made them the best ever, Lily said the entire house smelled like peanut butter cookies. I have no problem with that.
For me, this was the best Christmas in a long time. Christmas in Hong Kong is mostly about shopping and over the top decorations. The Chinese are never subtle when it comes to lights and colored paper. Christmas in Amsterdam reminded me more of my childhood, when spending time with family and friends was more important than going to the mall. There is never anything magical in the air in Hong Kong. Christmas is just another day, albeit with more Christmas music than usual. Amsterdam felt like Christmas. Best of all, I got to spend it with my sister.
Vrolijk Kerstfeest.
Saturday, December 29, 2018
Tuesday, December 25, 2018
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Tony Bennett
Home For the Holidays
Carpenters
Monday, December 24, 2018
Island Hopping part 2
About two miles southeast of Kau Sai Chau is a cluster of four islands. Fo Tau Fan Chau houses a drug rehab hospital. We saw no reason to go there. Wang Chau is a rocky brown island with some green patches on top. It has a few sea caves and some more of those rocks that rock people love to look at. The southern coast has jagged cliffs that look like they are going to collapse at any minute, but have probably been around for a million years. Fo Sek Chau has more of the same, on a larger scale. Probably because it is three times larger than Wang Chau. Sha Tong Hau Shan is roughly the same size as Fo Sek Chau, but taller. The jagged cliffs are taller and some of the sea caves are big enough to ride through in a kayak or small row boat. Even better, there is some coral around the island. It is dying and will probably be gone pretty soon, but we came prepared with snorkels.
We spent more time at Fo Sek Chau than any of the others. Sha Tong Hau Shan has the coral, which is nice to look at, but Fo Sek Chau has better coves and caves to swim around. There are more than enough large boulders sticking out of the water to use as diving boards and the water is clear enough to see all the jagged rocks hiding underneath the surface. The current is not especially strong around the island, so swimming through the sea caves is not at all dangerous. Even if a current did pull you away, it would simply take you in one mouth of a cave and spit you out another.
I love swimming and have been doing it all of my life. It is great exercise, of course, but I think I mostly like all the floating and freedom of movement. I have always loved the way water feels, but it took me a long time to realize that swimming naked is a million times better than swimming with a bathing suit. Wet clothes never feel right, while wet skin is natural.
Unfortunately, Hong Kong has laws against that sort of thing. There are a few nude beaches, but they are technically illegal. And we were nowhere near any of the unofficial nude beaches. I might have risked it anyway, but I was with Hisoka. Seeing each other naked on our third date was not the issue. Due to circumstances beyond my control, we saw each other naked on our first date. You can probably swim around the islands without any law enforcement ever seeing you. We saw almost no one patrolling the waters the entire time we were bouncing around from island to island. If caught swimming nude, I might have been given a small fine, at most. But Hisoka is a visitor. His visa could be affected, and losing it could threaten his job. His bosses might not care about swimming nude, but they would care about losing face because of some recklessly illegal activity.
So I had to swim with a bathing suit. It was not ideal, but it was far better than nothing. I avoid public swimming pools in Hong Kong for reasons too graphic to get into, and outside of the big house at Clear Water Bay, there are too few options around here. Seven million people live in Hong Kong, a city of islands and peninsulas, yet most of us rarely go into the water. Even at beaches, people are more likely to stay on land. Swimming around Fo Sek Chau is something everyone should do, assuming they know how to swim. There is a gentle peace you get from floating on your back in an enormous body of water away from the traffic and construction of civilization. In the city, you hear noises all the time. It is a constant chorus of machinery and humanity pushing forward. Floating in the ocean, you hear the gentle brush of water flowing against your body. People pay big money to get that kind of serenity. Nature gives it to us for free.
Where I come from, we don't do a lot of swimming in December. But this is Hong Kong. The water around Fo Sek Chau was not tropical summer warm, but it was warm enough. For whatever reason, the water is much cleaner in winter than in summer. It was clear and looked clean enough to drink around Fo Sek Chau and Sha Tong Hau Shan, if it were not salt water. I don't know why the water gets cleaner in winter, but I assume less traffic and less rain has something to do with it. There are more people in the summer, and summer rain drains the city pollution out to sea.
We spent the night at Tai Long Bay. There are a few small islands in the bay, but we never bothered going to any of them. Once the sun goes down, there is no point anyway. Dinner was on the boat. Tai Long Bay is not the best place for restaurants and we had a stocked kitchen with us. More often than not, when I am with people and we are having a home cooked meal, or boat cooked meal, I am doing the cooking. This time, Hisoka wanted to do the cooking. That was fine with me. I don't need a giant executive kitchen, but the combination of tiny and rocking on the water made the boat's kitchen less appealing. Hisoka knew that I would not be able to taste anything, so he had nothing to lose.
After dinner, we sat out on the back deck and watched the stars. In Hong Kong, you almost never see any stars. Kowloon and Hong Kong Island are giant balls of light at night. Tai Long Bay sits between one of the largest country parks and the South China Sea. There is still plenty of light bleeding over from the city, but it is far darker than Nathan Road. I want to say we got naked and took a romantic swim in the bay, but that was never going to happen. Swimming at night is never recommended. If a current drags you away, no one will ever see it. There was light from the boat, but if you face east, which is where the water would take you, it is nothing but black.
The boat had two bedrooms, so spending the night was never going to be awkward. One was slightly larger than the other. Hisoka let me take the larger bedroom because he is a gentleman. Realistically, it never really mattered. The larger room was maybe a few square feet bigger. The most noticeable difference was that it had more windows and they all faced the bow. Had the boat been moving, that would have been the better room. While sleeping, it was all the same.
I briefly thought about inviting Hisoka to my room, or even going to his smaller room. We have known each other for months, but this was only our third date. We have seen each other naked, and we seem to get wet on practically every date, but a third date is just too soon for me. I know about him, but I don't truly know him yet. On one hand, it is a shame. We were so secluded from civilization that we could have done unmentionable things on the deck under the stars and no one but the NSA satellites would have seen us. On the other hand, I simply don't roll that way. I am more vanilla than Izzy's.
The next day, I went for a morning swim in the bay. Hisoka had breakfast ready by the time I was finished with the tiny shower. Imagine trying to take a shower on a plane. Some of the more expensive airlines actually have showers in first class, but the boat's shower was economy size. If Hisoka was hoping to get some morning action, that shower would be the last place two people could fit.
I have had fewer boyfriends than everyone I know. Hisoka is not my boyfriend, obviously. This was only our third date. But if he were, he would be the only one who is as much of a morning person as I am. I generally wake up before dawn. Some of my previous boyfriends had a hard time getting up before noon. Eating breakfast together on a date is a new experience for me. Eating on the deck of a boat in the morning air of the bay is something entirely different. I would love to do it more often, but then it would not be as special.
After breakfast, we headed to Mirs Bay, which is just around the corner from Tai Long Bay. They are close, but nothing alike. Tai Long Bay is maybe two miles across and no more than three miles from beach to ocean. Mirs Bay is larger than Hong Kong Island, Kowloon and Lantau combined. It has some of the deepest water in the city and almost all of the scuba diving sites. The bay houses three different marine reserves and a fair amount of sharks from time to time. It is also the eastern border between Hong Kong and Mainland China.
Our first stop in Mirs Bay was Tap Mun, one of the more developed islands on our journey. The local fishing village only has about 100 people, but the island is a popular camping spot with daily ferries from a few different locations. There are paved hiking trails and park benches that face the rocky beaches. Tap Mun has a few small temples dedicated to sea gods. There is even a public basketball court in the middle of the village.
From Tap Mun, we sailed north to Yan Chau Tong, a small harbor just east of Plover Cove. Yan Chau Tong is entirely too close to Mainland China, but mostly in a protected marine park. We sailed around Wong Wan Chau and Ngo Mei Chau before stopping at Kat O. Kat O has one of the larger fishing villages of the smaller islands and a few small temples, but is mostly protected wilderness. It is also one of the largest islands we saw. Though no more than a few hundred feet wide at any given point, it is three miles long. Kat O has one of the longest coastlines with both rocky and sandy beaches, but nothing as beautiful as Kiu Tsui Chau.
On the opposite side of the bay is Tung Ping Chau, the farthest you can go east and still be in Hong Kong. The island is technically inhabited, but we saw absolutely no one there. The tiny village looked and felt abandoned. Someone is clearly maintaining the small temples on the island, but definitely not full time. Tung Ping Chau is another paradise for rock climbers, with jagged cliffs carved by the sea. Most of the islands in Hong Kong were formed by volcanoes, but Tung Ping Chau is one of the rare sedimentary islands. Best of all, only a few ferries go to the island and only on the weekends. Tung Ping Chau is popular with divers because of the coral and deep waters, but is deserted during the week. We had the place to ourselves.
I don't know if we spent more time on the boat or on the various islands. Getting from one island to the next did not take that long, but we also sailed around smaller islands and rarely went from A to B in a straight line. When I took the steering wheel in Mirs Bay, it was anything but a straight line. While I appreciate how fast some boats can go, I would still rather drive fast in a car. Boats just don't feel right to me. I think the best thing about taking a boat around Hong Kong versus a car is that you have a kitchen and bathroom with you at all times. Finding food while driving around is easy, but public restrooms can be challenging. Especially if you like cleanliness. The view is also a lot better from a boat. There are a few great scenic driving spots in Hong Kong, but the city is mostly traffic and red lights.
As for Hisoka, we both assume there will be a fourth date. No one knows when or where that will be. He goes back and forth from Japan to China all the time and I just started a new job in Amsterdam. The great thing is that neither of us are pushing the other for more information. Whatever happens, it will happen whenever everything works out however it should. The complete absence of pressure and stress is refreshing. Almost like lying on the deck of a boat and watching the stars.
We spent more time at Fo Sek Chau than any of the others. Sha Tong Hau Shan has the coral, which is nice to look at, but Fo Sek Chau has better coves and caves to swim around. There are more than enough large boulders sticking out of the water to use as diving boards and the water is clear enough to see all the jagged rocks hiding underneath the surface. The current is not especially strong around the island, so swimming through the sea caves is not at all dangerous. Even if a current did pull you away, it would simply take you in one mouth of a cave and spit you out another.
I love swimming and have been doing it all of my life. It is great exercise, of course, but I think I mostly like all the floating and freedom of movement. I have always loved the way water feels, but it took me a long time to realize that swimming naked is a million times better than swimming with a bathing suit. Wet clothes never feel right, while wet skin is natural.
Unfortunately, Hong Kong has laws against that sort of thing. There are a few nude beaches, but they are technically illegal. And we were nowhere near any of the unofficial nude beaches. I might have risked it anyway, but I was with Hisoka. Seeing each other naked on our third date was not the issue. Due to circumstances beyond my control, we saw each other naked on our first date. You can probably swim around the islands without any law enforcement ever seeing you. We saw almost no one patrolling the waters the entire time we were bouncing around from island to island. If caught swimming nude, I might have been given a small fine, at most. But Hisoka is a visitor. His visa could be affected, and losing it could threaten his job. His bosses might not care about swimming nude, but they would care about losing face because of some recklessly illegal activity.
So I had to swim with a bathing suit. It was not ideal, but it was far better than nothing. I avoid public swimming pools in Hong Kong for reasons too graphic to get into, and outside of the big house at Clear Water Bay, there are too few options around here. Seven million people live in Hong Kong, a city of islands and peninsulas, yet most of us rarely go into the water. Even at beaches, people are more likely to stay on land. Swimming around Fo Sek Chau is something everyone should do, assuming they know how to swim. There is a gentle peace you get from floating on your back in an enormous body of water away from the traffic and construction of civilization. In the city, you hear noises all the time. It is a constant chorus of machinery and humanity pushing forward. Floating in the ocean, you hear the gentle brush of water flowing against your body. People pay big money to get that kind of serenity. Nature gives it to us for free.
Where I come from, we don't do a lot of swimming in December. But this is Hong Kong. The water around Fo Sek Chau was not tropical summer warm, but it was warm enough. For whatever reason, the water is much cleaner in winter than in summer. It was clear and looked clean enough to drink around Fo Sek Chau and Sha Tong Hau Shan, if it were not salt water. I don't know why the water gets cleaner in winter, but I assume less traffic and less rain has something to do with it. There are more people in the summer, and summer rain drains the city pollution out to sea.
We spent the night at Tai Long Bay. There are a few small islands in the bay, but we never bothered going to any of them. Once the sun goes down, there is no point anyway. Dinner was on the boat. Tai Long Bay is not the best place for restaurants and we had a stocked kitchen with us. More often than not, when I am with people and we are having a home cooked meal, or boat cooked meal, I am doing the cooking. This time, Hisoka wanted to do the cooking. That was fine with me. I don't need a giant executive kitchen, but the combination of tiny and rocking on the water made the boat's kitchen less appealing. Hisoka knew that I would not be able to taste anything, so he had nothing to lose.
After dinner, we sat out on the back deck and watched the stars. In Hong Kong, you almost never see any stars. Kowloon and Hong Kong Island are giant balls of light at night. Tai Long Bay sits between one of the largest country parks and the South China Sea. There is still plenty of light bleeding over from the city, but it is far darker than Nathan Road. I want to say we got naked and took a romantic swim in the bay, but that was never going to happen. Swimming at night is never recommended. If a current drags you away, no one will ever see it. There was light from the boat, but if you face east, which is where the water would take you, it is nothing but black.
The boat had two bedrooms, so spending the night was never going to be awkward. One was slightly larger than the other. Hisoka let me take the larger bedroom because he is a gentleman. Realistically, it never really mattered. The larger room was maybe a few square feet bigger. The most noticeable difference was that it had more windows and they all faced the bow. Had the boat been moving, that would have been the better room. While sleeping, it was all the same.
I briefly thought about inviting Hisoka to my room, or even going to his smaller room. We have known each other for months, but this was only our third date. We have seen each other naked, and we seem to get wet on practically every date, but a third date is just too soon for me. I know about him, but I don't truly know him yet. On one hand, it is a shame. We were so secluded from civilization that we could have done unmentionable things on the deck under the stars and no one but the NSA satellites would have seen us. On the other hand, I simply don't roll that way. I am more vanilla than Izzy's.
The next day, I went for a morning swim in the bay. Hisoka had breakfast ready by the time I was finished with the tiny shower. Imagine trying to take a shower on a plane. Some of the more expensive airlines actually have showers in first class, but the boat's shower was economy size. If Hisoka was hoping to get some morning action, that shower would be the last place two people could fit.
I have had fewer boyfriends than everyone I know. Hisoka is not my boyfriend, obviously. This was only our third date. But if he were, he would be the only one who is as much of a morning person as I am. I generally wake up before dawn. Some of my previous boyfriends had a hard time getting up before noon. Eating breakfast together on a date is a new experience for me. Eating on the deck of a boat in the morning air of the bay is something entirely different. I would love to do it more often, but then it would not be as special.
After breakfast, we headed to Mirs Bay, which is just around the corner from Tai Long Bay. They are close, but nothing alike. Tai Long Bay is maybe two miles across and no more than three miles from beach to ocean. Mirs Bay is larger than Hong Kong Island, Kowloon and Lantau combined. It has some of the deepest water in the city and almost all of the scuba diving sites. The bay houses three different marine reserves and a fair amount of sharks from time to time. It is also the eastern border between Hong Kong and Mainland China.
Our first stop in Mirs Bay was Tap Mun, one of the more developed islands on our journey. The local fishing village only has about 100 people, but the island is a popular camping spot with daily ferries from a few different locations. There are paved hiking trails and park benches that face the rocky beaches. Tap Mun has a few small temples dedicated to sea gods. There is even a public basketball court in the middle of the village.
From Tap Mun, we sailed north to Yan Chau Tong, a small harbor just east of Plover Cove. Yan Chau Tong is entirely too close to Mainland China, but mostly in a protected marine park. We sailed around Wong Wan Chau and Ngo Mei Chau before stopping at Kat O. Kat O has one of the larger fishing villages of the smaller islands and a few small temples, but is mostly protected wilderness. It is also one of the largest islands we saw. Though no more than a few hundred feet wide at any given point, it is three miles long. Kat O has one of the longest coastlines with both rocky and sandy beaches, but nothing as beautiful as Kiu Tsui Chau.
On the opposite side of the bay is Tung Ping Chau, the farthest you can go east and still be in Hong Kong. The island is technically inhabited, but we saw absolutely no one there. The tiny village looked and felt abandoned. Someone is clearly maintaining the small temples on the island, but definitely not full time. Tung Ping Chau is another paradise for rock climbers, with jagged cliffs carved by the sea. Most of the islands in Hong Kong were formed by volcanoes, but Tung Ping Chau is one of the rare sedimentary islands. Best of all, only a few ferries go to the island and only on the weekends. Tung Ping Chau is popular with divers because of the coral and deep waters, but is deserted during the week. We had the place to ourselves.
I don't know if we spent more time on the boat or on the various islands. Getting from one island to the next did not take that long, but we also sailed around smaller islands and rarely went from A to B in a straight line. When I took the steering wheel in Mirs Bay, it was anything but a straight line. While I appreciate how fast some boats can go, I would still rather drive fast in a car. Boats just don't feel right to me. I think the best thing about taking a boat around Hong Kong versus a car is that you have a kitchen and bathroom with you at all times. Finding food while driving around is easy, but public restrooms can be challenging. Especially if you like cleanliness. The view is also a lot better from a boat. There are a few great scenic driving spots in Hong Kong, but the city is mostly traffic and red lights.
As for Hisoka, we both assume there will be a fourth date. No one knows when or where that will be. He goes back and forth from Japan to China all the time and I just started a new job in Amsterdam. The great thing is that neither of us are pushing the other for more information. Whatever happens, it will happen whenever everything works out however it should. The complete absence of pressure and stress is refreshing. Almost like lying on the deck of a boat and watching the stars.
Sunday, December 23, 2018
Saturday, December 22, 2018
Island Hopping part 1
My first date with Hisoka was pretty elaborate, yet mostly spontaneous. Our second date was a simple dinner. We both had far more time for our third date, so two days after our second, we went to 離島. It is a part of Hong Kong that so few people go to, I'm not even sure what to call it in English. Remote Islands? Google calls them the Outlying Islands, but I have never heard anyone actually use that phrase outside of the Islands District in the New Territories. Technically, all of the outlying islands are part of the New Territories, even though most of them are south of Kowloon. Politically, there are more islands in Sai Kung and Tai Po than in the Islands District.
Whatever these islands are called, they are a great way to experience traditional Hong Kong. Kowloon and Hong Kong Island have tradition all over the place, but they are also filled to the rafters with 21st century technology and convenience. Some of these outer islands can take you back in time. Only with a modern phone, it is hard to get lost. Even on a rocky island close to nothing, my phone knew where I was. I don't think I like that.
Hisoka wanted to surprise me, but at the same time, he did not expect me to just blindly follow him into the wilderness. He told me that we were going to see a few islands, but I assumed that meant Lantau. I have been to Lantau a million times. I worked on the island for six years. Instead, we went to the southern end of Hong Kong Island.
Ordinarily, when someone I do not know especially well says, “Close your eyes and follow me. And maybe bring an overnight bag,” all kinds of red flags pop up. But Hisoka has a history of top quality surprises. He never told me to bring my passport, so I assumed we would stay in China, but other than that, anything was possible.
At Aberdeen, we boarded a small boat that the company called a yacht. I'm not entirely sure what technically defines a yacht, but when you say the word, I think of giant boats with helicopter pads owned by billionaires. I doubt any billionaire would be impressed with our little “yacht”. This boat was maybe 20 or 30 feet long from top to tail. Or bow to stern, in this case. It would struggle to hold more than a dozen of the billionaire's closest friends, and most helicopters would sink it.
The biggest surprise to me was that they gave Hisoka the keys and let him sail away without any supervision. You can hire pretty much any form of transportation in Hong Kong, but anything bigger than a car usually comes with someone to operate the vehicle. This was a small boat, but it was not propelled by oars or paddles. I have absolutely no idea what kind of license is required to drive a two story motorboat around Hong Kong, but he must have had something. At least I hope he did. Had he relied on me, we would still be out there.
I am not exactly an experienced sailor. I have been on all kinds of boats in my day, from kayaks that hold one person to enormous cruise ships with 2,000 passengers. I have been on smooth boats with large sails and choppy boats with loud engines. I have sailed lakes small enough to swim across and oceans that stretch across the globe. But what I know about sailing can fit on a brochure. The only boats I can operate without assistance are small enough to be lifted out of the water by hand. This boat was a little bigger than that.
The top deck had all of the controls behind a bow that could only be reached by walking outside and holding onto a railing. But people were meant to go out there. It had cushions for several people to sit and take their Facebook pictures. Behind the steering wheel, there was a tiny kitchen with an oven, stove, sink, refrigerator and more counter space than the average Hong Kong apartment. Next to and/or in the kitchen was a small dining room sofa that could hold three or four people. The aft deck had a much larger sofa and a small ledge close enough to the water to sit and soak legs. I'm sure that ledge has a nautical name, but I don't know what it is.
The lower deck had two small bedrooms with beds larger than I would have expected. They were probably closer to queen than anything else. The windows in the bedrooms were small, but well placed, letting in plenty of light. The ceiling was also higher than I would expect from the lower deck of a small boat. In between the bedrooms was a tiny bathroom. It was designed to look like you were in the lap of luxury, but it was no bigger than an airline bathroom. All of the storage space, from the kitchen to the bedrooms, was hidden away in places the Japanese would understand. They are the masters of maximizing storage in confined spaces.
The company that owned the boat stocked the kitchen with plenty of food. That was convenient since parking is difficult. There is more than enough water around Hong Kong for everybody, but if you want to stop your boat and get off, your options are limited.
Hisoka's plan was to sail around the islands. There are more than a few choices. Most of them are much smaller than Lantau and completely uninhabited. A few are popular tourist destinations for their traditional fishing villages and clean beaches. I have seen plenty of fishing villages here, so I wanted to go where few people who look like me have ever been. Fortunately, Hisoka had a list of islands where it was physically possible to park the boat. November might not be the best time to sail around Hong Kong, but it never gets cold. At its worst, winter hits in January/February. More importantly, it never rains nearly as much in winter as it does in summer. You might think summer is a better time to sail around the islands, but summer can get 20 times as much rain as winter, and there are no typhoons in November.
From Aberdeen on Hong Kong island, you have two choices. You can go east or west. South is Lamma Island, which is too developed and full of tourists. Beyond that and you leave Hong Kong waters. I have a visa for Mainland China, but Hisoka did not. Crossing the border by boat and getting caught in some international espionage was not on the agenda.
West is Lantau and all of the islands around it. I would not mind sailing to Shenzhen Bay, but this was supposed to be an island trip and there are no islands in the bay. East was the logical choice. There is far more water and more than a hundred islands between Po Toi and Mirs Bay.
Past Ocean Park, we headed toward Ngan Chau, a tiny uninhabited island with nothing more than a rocky beach and a lot of trees. Hisoka wanted to stay close to the coast to avoid shipping and ferry traffic between Hong Kong Island and Lamma. We sailed around Hong Kong Island between Luo Chau and the cape at Hok Tsui. We could not see the famous lighthouse until we were close to the east coast. From there, we headed straight to Tung Lung Chau.
Our first port of the day was Tung Lung Chau, a medium-size rock, maybe a mile long, just off the coast of Hong Kong Island. It was an easy walk to the fort, but we both wanted to see the stone carvings first, which was a hilly hike on a more or less paved path. The few people who live on the island use the paths for transportation. On the northwest coast of the island, someone carved a large dragon into the massive rocks that spread across the shore. This dragon's claim to fame is that it is the oldest stone carving in Hong Kong, estimated at about 5,000 years old.
What I liked about it, which did not especially impress Hisoka, was that cave paintings in Europe are often large mammals being hunted by people or other depictions of their daily life. In Europe, they are mostly saying, “Look at us.” In Asia, it is dragons and other mythical creatures. Their stories are more symbolic than autobiographical. It might be a stretch, but I think this is one of the reasons Asian cultures tend to see their religious stories as parable and allegory while Europeans see their stories as literal fact.
Tung Lung Fort was at the end of an easy hike along the northeast coast. It was built in the early 1700s and is mostly rubble now, with a protective walkway for visitors to look without damaging anything, almost like the Qumran Caves near the Dead Sea. I was expecting an actual building, but the fort was abandoned 200 years ago on a rocky shore where nature takes back whatever man does not want.
We sailed to the Kwo Chau Islands, a group of 20-something uninhabited islands just east of Tung Lung Chau. Some of the islands are little more than rocks sticking out of the water. The largest island is half a mile long and 300 yards at its widest point. People go to the islands to climb rocks and explore the sea caves, assuming they can find a way in. There is no transportation to the islands, unless you have your own boat. That might be why it was completely deserted when we went. Despite a population of zero, there is a tiny temple atop the largest hill on Tai Chau, the southernmost island.
When we sailed up Ngau Mei Hoi, I looked for the house at Clear Water Bay. Every year, my roommates and I stay at a house at Clear Water Bay for anywhere from two weeks to a month. I missed last year because I was recovering from surgery and this year because I was in Spain. But I have been at the house often enough to recognize the amazing views of the harbour and South China Sea. Sailing around the islands gave me a new perspective. It is like looking at a picture for years and then finally walking around that scenery.
Kiu Tsui Chau is about a mile and a half long and anything from half a mile to a few hundred feet wide. Most people go there for the beaches and rocks. There are two main beaches and a few tiny beachlets, all of which have some of the softest sand on the islands. Most of the beaches around Hong Kong are rocky and not especially great for building sand castles. For geologists, the rocks might be more exciting. Kiu Tsui Chau has unusual volcanic rocks that you cannot find anywhere else in Hong Kong. For me, the best part was the small isthmus that connects the island with a tiny islet that you can walk across at low tide. It was like walking on water to get to Mont-Saint-Michel, Tanah Lot or the Itsukushima torii, only instead of going to a temple, you are going to a bunch of rocks and trees.
Just northeast of Kiu Tsui Chau is Yim Tin Tsai, a small island less than half a mile across in any direction. Though uninhabited, it has a visitor center, public restrooms and a restaurant. People visit the island for a little taste of history. Once a series of farms, the island was abandoned and most of the population left many of their possessions behind. You can go into mostly furnished houses and see how people lived in the early and middle 20th century, only with far more dust and weeds. There is also a 100-year-old Catholic church that is regularly maintained and still occasionally used. Boat parking is difficult since the island is almost entirely surrounded by mangroves, but there is a small pier next to the church.
Coincidentally, Yim Tin Tsai had a thriving salt industry before modern machinery changed the way salt is produced. Once the old ways died out, the salt farms were abandoned and the people left the island. I went to Aveiro, Portugal in October, which was put on the map by its salt farms. Aveiro survived the changing times because it is the largest coastal city between Lisbon and Porto, and it focused on tourism. Yim Tin Tsai is a small island far from Victoria Harbour and not at all connected to any train lines.
Not only did people leave their furniture, but enough of them left their dogs behind. Now there is a thriving stray dog community on the island. The original dogs were once pets and were probably mostly friendly, but the current generation are wild animals. I don't know if they ever attack visitors, but I was always aware whenever there was a stray dog nearby. Pet dogs can be the friendlies creatures in the world, but these are not pets. They are territorial predators and the island is their territory. I have to assume they have never killed anyone. China hates bad press and would gladly wipe out the entire island's population to keep the tourism money flowing.
Just south of Yim Tin Tsai is Kau Sai Chau, easily the largest island we visited, three miles long and about one mile wide. Though relatively removed from civilization, it has a large golf course that takes up the northern end of the island. We did not go there to golf, so we concentrated on the southern end, with a small fishing village where most of the population lives, and a 150-year-old temple. It looks old, but 150 years is pretty young by Chinese temple standards. There are more prehistoric rock carvings on the northwest coast, but they are not as interesting as Tung Lung Chau and, since they are so close to the golf course, more tourists line up to take pictures.
As a larger island, Kau Sai Chau has more room for packs of stray dogs, but to protect the golf course and its income, the government regularly removes as many as they can catch. They don't seem to be doing a good job since scientists think the stray dogs are killing off the civet population. The island also has boars that like to tear up the golf course, but attempts to stop them have all failed dramatically. The boars ignore traps and tear through electric fences. A few years ago, the golf course wanted to quietly hunt the boars, but the hunters only killed a few and outraged pretty much everybody when they posted their trophy pictures online. Unlike Americans, Chinese people consider it uncivilized to pose like a manly man over a dead carcass while holding a gun and wearing a goofy looking costume.
This is not the exact boat, but pretty close.
Whatever these islands are called, they are a great way to experience traditional Hong Kong. Kowloon and Hong Kong Island have tradition all over the place, but they are also filled to the rafters with 21st century technology and convenience. Some of these outer islands can take you back in time. Only with a modern phone, it is hard to get lost. Even on a rocky island close to nothing, my phone knew where I was. I don't think I like that.
Hisoka wanted to surprise me, but at the same time, he did not expect me to just blindly follow him into the wilderness. He told me that we were going to see a few islands, but I assumed that meant Lantau. I have been to Lantau a million times. I worked on the island for six years. Instead, we went to the southern end of Hong Kong Island.
Ordinarily, when someone I do not know especially well says, “Close your eyes and follow me. And maybe bring an overnight bag,” all kinds of red flags pop up. But Hisoka has a history of top quality surprises. He never told me to bring my passport, so I assumed we would stay in China, but other than that, anything was possible.
At Aberdeen, we boarded a small boat that the company called a yacht. I'm not entirely sure what technically defines a yacht, but when you say the word, I think of giant boats with helicopter pads owned by billionaires. I doubt any billionaire would be impressed with our little “yacht”. This boat was maybe 20 or 30 feet long from top to tail. Or bow to stern, in this case. It would struggle to hold more than a dozen of the billionaire's closest friends, and most helicopters would sink it.
The biggest surprise to me was that they gave Hisoka the keys and let him sail away without any supervision. You can hire pretty much any form of transportation in Hong Kong, but anything bigger than a car usually comes with someone to operate the vehicle. This was a small boat, but it was not propelled by oars or paddles. I have absolutely no idea what kind of license is required to drive a two story motorboat around Hong Kong, but he must have had something. At least I hope he did. Had he relied on me, we would still be out there.
I am not exactly an experienced sailor. I have been on all kinds of boats in my day, from kayaks that hold one person to enormous cruise ships with 2,000 passengers. I have been on smooth boats with large sails and choppy boats with loud engines. I have sailed lakes small enough to swim across and oceans that stretch across the globe. But what I know about sailing can fit on a brochure. The only boats I can operate without assistance are small enough to be lifted out of the water by hand. This boat was a little bigger than that.
The top deck had all of the controls behind a bow that could only be reached by walking outside and holding onto a railing. But people were meant to go out there. It had cushions for several people to sit and take their Facebook pictures. Behind the steering wheel, there was a tiny kitchen with an oven, stove, sink, refrigerator and more counter space than the average Hong Kong apartment. Next to and/or in the kitchen was a small dining room sofa that could hold three or four people. The aft deck had a much larger sofa and a small ledge close enough to the water to sit and soak legs. I'm sure that ledge has a nautical name, but I don't know what it is.
The lower deck had two small bedrooms with beds larger than I would have expected. They were probably closer to queen than anything else. The windows in the bedrooms were small, but well placed, letting in plenty of light. The ceiling was also higher than I would expect from the lower deck of a small boat. In between the bedrooms was a tiny bathroom. It was designed to look like you were in the lap of luxury, but it was no bigger than an airline bathroom. All of the storage space, from the kitchen to the bedrooms, was hidden away in places the Japanese would understand. They are the masters of maximizing storage in confined spaces.
The company that owned the boat stocked the kitchen with plenty of food. That was convenient since parking is difficult. There is more than enough water around Hong Kong for everybody, but if you want to stop your boat and get off, your options are limited.
Hisoka's plan was to sail around the islands. There are more than a few choices. Most of them are much smaller than Lantau and completely uninhabited. A few are popular tourist destinations for their traditional fishing villages and clean beaches. I have seen plenty of fishing villages here, so I wanted to go where few people who look like me have ever been. Fortunately, Hisoka had a list of islands where it was physically possible to park the boat. November might not be the best time to sail around Hong Kong, but it never gets cold. At its worst, winter hits in January/February. More importantly, it never rains nearly as much in winter as it does in summer. You might think summer is a better time to sail around the islands, but summer can get 20 times as much rain as winter, and there are no typhoons in November.
From Aberdeen on Hong Kong island, you have two choices. You can go east or west. South is Lamma Island, which is too developed and full of tourists. Beyond that and you leave Hong Kong waters. I have a visa for Mainland China, but Hisoka did not. Crossing the border by boat and getting caught in some international espionage was not on the agenda.
West is Lantau and all of the islands around it. I would not mind sailing to Shenzhen Bay, but this was supposed to be an island trip and there are no islands in the bay. East was the logical choice. There is far more water and more than a hundred islands between Po Toi and Mirs Bay.
Past Ocean Park, we headed toward Ngan Chau, a tiny uninhabited island with nothing more than a rocky beach and a lot of trees. Hisoka wanted to stay close to the coast to avoid shipping and ferry traffic between Hong Kong Island and Lamma. We sailed around Hong Kong Island between Luo Chau and the cape at Hok Tsui. We could not see the famous lighthouse until we were close to the east coast. From there, we headed straight to Tung Lung Chau.
Our first port of the day was Tung Lung Chau, a medium-size rock, maybe a mile long, just off the coast of Hong Kong Island. It was an easy walk to the fort, but we both wanted to see the stone carvings first, which was a hilly hike on a more or less paved path. The few people who live on the island use the paths for transportation. On the northwest coast of the island, someone carved a large dragon into the massive rocks that spread across the shore. This dragon's claim to fame is that it is the oldest stone carving in Hong Kong, estimated at about 5,000 years old.
What I liked about it, which did not especially impress Hisoka, was that cave paintings in Europe are often large mammals being hunted by people or other depictions of their daily life. In Europe, they are mostly saying, “Look at us.” In Asia, it is dragons and other mythical creatures. Their stories are more symbolic than autobiographical. It might be a stretch, but I think this is one of the reasons Asian cultures tend to see their religious stories as parable and allegory while Europeans see their stories as literal fact.
Tung Lung Fort was at the end of an easy hike along the northeast coast. It was built in the early 1700s and is mostly rubble now, with a protective walkway for visitors to look without damaging anything, almost like the Qumran Caves near the Dead Sea. I was expecting an actual building, but the fort was abandoned 200 years ago on a rocky shore where nature takes back whatever man does not want.
We sailed to the Kwo Chau Islands, a group of 20-something uninhabited islands just east of Tung Lung Chau. Some of the islands are little more than rocks sticking out of the water. The largest island is half a mile long and 300 yards at its widest point. People go to the islands to climb rocks and explore the sea caves, assuming they can find a way in. There is no transportation to the islands, unless you have your own boat. That might be why it was completely deserted when we went. Despite a population of zero, there is a tiny temple atop the largest hill on Tai Chau, the southernmost island.
When we sailed up Ngau Mei Hoi, I looked for the house at Clear Water Bay. Every year, my roommates and I stay at a house at Clear Water Bay for anywhere from two weeks to a month. I missed last year because I was recovering from surgery and this year because I was in Spain. But I have been at the house often enough to recognize the amazing views of the harbour and South China Sea. Sailing around the islands gave me a new perspective. It is like looking at a picture for years and then finally walking around that scenery.
Kiu Tsui Chau is about a mile and a half long and anything from half a mile to a few hundred feet wide. Most people go there for the beaches and rocks. There are two main beaches and a few tiny beachlets, all of which have some of the softest sand on the islands. Most of the beaches around Hong Kong are rocky and not especially great for building sand castles. For geologists, the rocks might be more exciting. Kiu Tsui Chau has unusual volcanic rocks that you cannot find anywhere else in Hong Kong. For me, the best part was the small isthmus that connects the island with a tiny islet that you can walk across at low tide. It was like walking on water to get to Mont-Saint-Michel, Tanah Lot or the Itsukushima torii, only instead of going to a temple, you are going to a bunch of rocks and trees.
Just northeast of Kiu Tsui Chau is Yim Tin Tsai, a small island less than half a mile across in any direction. Though uninhabited, it has a visitor center, public restrooms and a restaurant. People visit the island for a little taste of history. Once a series of farms, the island was abandoned and most of the population left many of their possessions behind. You can go into mostly furnished houses and see how people lived in the early and middle 20th century, only with far more dust and weeds. There is also a 100-year-old Catholic church that is regularly maintained and still occasionally used. Boat parking is difficult since the island is almost entirely surrounded by mangroves, but there is a small pier next to the church.
Coincidentally, Yim Tin Tsai had a thriving salt industry before modern machinery changed the way salt is produced. Once the old ways died out, the salt farms were abandoned and the people left the island. I went to Aveiro, Portugal in October, which was put on the map by its salt farms. Aveiro survived the changing times because it is the largest coastal city between Lisbon and Porto, and it focused on tourism. Yim Tin Tsai is a small island far from Victoria Harbour and not at all connected to any train lines.
Not only did people leave their furniture, but enough of them left their dogs behind. Now there is a thriving stray dog community on the island. The original dogs were once pets and were probably mostly friendly, but the current generation are wild animals. I don't know if they ever attack visitors, but I was always aware whenever there was a stray dog nearby. Pet dogs can be the friendlies creatures in the world, but these are not pets. They are territorial predators and the island is their territory. I have to assume they have never killed anyone. China hates bad press and would gladly wipe out the entire island's population to keep the tourism money flowing.
Just south of Yim Tin Tsai is Kau Sai Chau, easily the largest island we visited, three miles long and about one mile wide. Though relatively removed from civilization, it has a large golf course that takes up the northern end of the island. We did not go there to golf, so we concentrated on the southern end, with a small fishing village where most of the population lives, and a 150-year-old temple. It looks old, but 150 years is pretty young by Chinese temple standards. There are more prehistoric rock carvings on the northwest coast, but they are not as interesting as Tung Lung Chau and, since they are so close to the golf course, more tourists line up to take pictures.
As a larger island, Kau Sai Chau has more room for packs of stray dogs, but to protect the golf course and its income, the government regularly removes as many as they can catch. They don't seem to be doing a good job since scientists think the stray dogs are killing off the civet population. The island also has boars that like to tear up the golf course, but attempts to stop them have all failed dramatically. The boars ignore traps and tear through electric fences. A few years ago, the golf course wanted to quietly hunt the boars, but the hunters only killed a few and outraged pretty much everybody when they posted their trophy pictures online. Unlike Americans, Chinese people consider it uncivilized to pose like a manly man over a dead carcass while holding a gun and wearing a goofy looking costume.
It's Cold Outside
Baby It's Cold Outside
Idina Menzel & Michael Bublé
Do You Hear What I Hear
Vanessa Carlton
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
Going Dutch
At the end of May, Hisoka and I had our first date. Generally speaking, if there is no second date within six months, there probably never will be. But we are both busy people. We also live in different countries. And I was out of mine for two of those six months.
We kept in touch during the six months and we both happened to go back to Hong Kong at about the same time. So we set up a second date at the end of November.
For our first date, he took me to Hiroshima on a private plane and I spent the night at the most amazing natural hot springs. Our second date was never going to be that noteworthy. We went out to dinner.
In honor of my new job in Amsterdam, Hisoka wanted to take me out to a Dutch restaurant. Hong Kong is not exactly a bastion of Dutch cuisine. I have lived here for years and could not think of a single restaurant. After a little research, Hisoka found a small place above the Paisano's in Mong Kok. It turned out to be a standard Hong Kong style “international” restaurant. He misunderstood the name, Go Dutch Cafe.
Despite the restaurant's name, I let him pay. I usually pay for myself on the first few dates. Some men have strange ideas about money and power. It is simply easier if everyone pays for themselves. At least until you know each other well enough that no one cares. I paid for almost nothing on my first date with Hisoka, but that one was highly unusual. I don't have the faintest idea what half of that would cost. After a year of not working, I did not mind letting other people buy my meals. Dinner at a moderately priced Hong Kong restaurant was never going to break Hisoka anyway. I can't begin to guess his salary, but I don't think he is living in a refrigerator box and eating cat food.
Dinner was nothing special, but I generally don't care where I eat anymore. We had a nice conversation. That was the important thing. He was also in town for a while, so we set up a longer, more interesting third date a couple of days later.
I also let Hisoka pay for our third date, but that was only because we spent almost no money. And what did have to be paid for, I never knew about ahead of time. This all happened at the end of November, but I was still typing about Barcelona back then. Now that I am in Amsterdam working on the future, I can type about my Hong Kong date in the past. Sometimes life moves fast.
As it turns out, there is a supposedly authentic Dutch restaurant in Lan Kwai Fong. Maybe some other time.
We kept in touch during the six months and we both happened to go back to Hong Kong at about the same time. So we set up a second date at the end of November.
For our first date, he took me to Hiroshima on a private plane and I spent the night at the most amazing natural hot springs. Our second date was never going to be that noteworthy. We went out to dinner.
In honor of my new job in Amsterdam, Hisoka wanted to take me out to a Dutch restaurant. Hong Kong is not exactly a bastion of Dutch cuisine. I have lived here for years and could not think of a single restaurant. After a little research, Hisoka found a small place above the Paisano's in Mong Kok. It turned out to be a standard Hong Kong style “international” restaurant. He misunderstood the name, Go Dutch Cafe.
Despite the restaurant's name, I let him pay. I usually pay for myself on the first few dates. Some men have strange ideas about money and power. It is simply easier if everyone pays for themselves. At least until you know each other well enough that no one cares. I paid for almost nothing on my first date with Hisoka, but that one was highly unusual. I don't have the faintest idea what half of that would cost. After a year of not working, I did not mind letting other people buy my meals. Dinner at a moderately priced Hong Kong restaurant was never going to break Hisoka anyway. I can't begin to guess his salary, but I don't think he is living in a refrigerator box and eating cat food.
Dinner was nothing special, but I generally don't care where I eat anymore. We had a nice conversation. That was the important thing. He was also in town for a while, so we set up a longer, more interesting third date a couple of days later.
I also let Hisoka pay for our third date, but that was only because we spent almost no money. And what did have to be paid for, I never knew about ahead of time. This all happened at the end of November, but I was still typing about Barcelona back then. Now that I am in Amsterdam working on the future, I can type about my Hong Kong date in the past. Sometimes life moves fast.
As it turns out, there is a supposedly authentic Dutch restaurant in Lan Kwai Fong. Maybe some other time.
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Penny Marshall
One of the first pieces of international news I heard when I arrived in Amsterdam was that Penny Marshall had died. The news reports told us that Laverne was dead, but I always knew her as a director. As an actor, she was known for her TV show. Her movie roles were mostly bit parts and cameos. She was not a prolific director, but everything she did is worth watching.
Jumpin' Jack Flash
directed by Penny Marshall
starring Whoopi Goldberg, Stephen Collins, Carol Kane, Annie Potts, Roscoe Lee Browne, Jonathan Pryce
Big
directed by Penny Marshall
written by Gary Ross & Anne Spielberg
produced by James L Brooks & Robert Greenhut
starring Tom Hanks, Elizabeth Perkins, Robert Loggia, John Heard, Mercedes Ruehl
Awakenings
directed by Penny Marshall
written by Steven Zaillian
starring Robin Williams, Robert De Niro, Julie Kavner, Penelope Ann Miller, John Heard, Max von Sydow, Anne Meara
A League of Their Own
directed by Penny Marshall
written by Lowell Ganz & Babaloo Mandel
produced by Robert Greenhut
starring Tom Hanks, Geena Davis, Lori Petty, Madonna, Rosie O'Donnell, Anne Ramsay, David Strathairn, Garry Marshall
Renaissance Man
directed by Penny Marshall
produced by Robert Greenhut & Penny Marshall
starring Danny DeVito, Gregory Hines, Cliff Robertson, Ed Begley Jr, Stacey Dash
The Preacher's Wife
directed by Penny Marshall
starring Denzel Washington, Whitney Houston, Courtney B Vance, Gregory Hines, Jenifer Lewis, Loretta Devine
Getting Away with Murder
directed & written by Harvey Miller
produced by Penny Marshall
starring Dan Aykroyd, Lily Tomlin, Jack Lemmon, Bonnie Hunt
With Friends Like These...
directed & written by Philip Messina
produced by Robert Greenhut & Penny Marshall
starring Adam Arkin, David Strathairn, Jon Tenney, Robert Costanzo, Amy Madigan, Laura San Giacomo
Riding in Cars with Boys
directed by Penny Marshall
produced by James L Brooks
starring Drew Barrymore, Steve Zahn, Brittany Murphy, Lorraine Bracco, James Woods, Sara Gilbert
Cinderella Man
directed by Ron Howard
produced by Ron Howard, Penny Marshall, Brian Grazer
starring Russell Crowe, Renée Zellweger, Paul Giamatti
Bewitched
directed by Nora Ephron
written by Nora Ephron & Delia Ephron
produced by Nora Ephron & Penny Marshall
starring Nicole Kidman, Will Ferrell, Shirley MacLaine, Michael Caine, Kristin Chenoweth, Stephen Colbert, Steve Carell, Amy Sedaris, Richard Kind
Jumpin' Jack Flash
directed by Penny Marshall
starring Whoopi Goldberg, Stephen Collins, Carol Kane, Annie Potts, Roscoe Lee Browne, Jonathan Pryce
Big
directed by Penny Marshall
written by Gary Ross & Anne Spielberg
produced by James L Brooks & Robert Greenhut
starring Tom Hanks, Elizabeth Perkins, Robert Loggia, John Heard, Mercedes Ruehl
Awakenings
directed by Penny Marshall
written by Steven Zaillian
starring Robin Williams, Robert De Niro, Julie Kavner, Penelope Ann Miller, John Heard, Max von Sydow, Anne Meara
A League of Their Own
directed by Penny Marshall
written by Lowell Ganz & Babaloo Mandel
produced by Robert Greenhut
starring Tom Hanks, Geena Davis, Lori Petty, Madonna, Rosie O'Donnell, Anne Ramsay, David Strathairn, Garry Marshall
Renaissance Man
directed by Penny Marshall
produced by Robert Greenhut & Penny Marshall
starring Danny DeVito, Gregory Hines, Cliff Robertson, Ed Begley Jr, Stacey Dash
The Preacher's Wife
directed by Penny Marshall
starring Denzel Washington, Whitney Houston, Courtney B Vance, Gregory Hines, Jenifer Lewis, Loretta Devine
Getting Away with Murder
directed & written by Harvey Miller
produced by Penny Marshall
starring Dan Aykroyd, Lily Tomlin, Jack Lemmon, Bonnie Hunt
With Friends Like These...
directed & written by Philip Messina
produced by Robert Greenhut & Penny Marshall
starring Adam Arkin, David Strathairn, Jon Tenney, Robert Costanzo, Amy Madigan, Laura San Giacomo
Riding in Cars with Boys
directed by Penny Marshall
produced by James L Brooks
starring Drew Barrymore, Steve Zahn, Brittany Murphy, Lorraine Bracco, James Woods, Sara Gilbert
Cinderella Man
directed by Ron Howard
produced by Ron Howard, Penny Marshall, Brian Grazer
starring Russell Crowe, Renée Zellweger, Paul Giamatti
Bewitched
directed by Nora Ephron
written by Nora Ephron & Delia Ephron
produced by Nora Ephron & Penny Marshall
starring Nicole Kidman, Will Ferrell, Shirley MacLaine, Michael Caine, Kristin Chenoweth, Stephen Colbert, Steve Carell, Amy Sedaris, Richard Kind
Saturday, December 15, 2018
Christmas in Amsterdam
I will be in Amsterdam this Christmas. I have been out of the country for a couple of Thanksgivings, and I spent a Halloween in Tel Aviv, but this will be my first Christmas outside of China since I moved here. I have what might be high expectations.
Tokyo and Barcelona are not the ideal cities for Thanksgiving. They are far from the worst places, but neither country cares about the holiday. Halloween night in Tel Aviv was just like any other night. Fridays and Saturdays always get interesting in Tel Aviv, but I think Halloween that year was on a Monday.
In contrast, Christmas in Amsterdam just feels right. Not only is it a country that actually celebrates the holiday, but they have snow. I have not seen snow on Christmas in a long time. Christmas in Hong Kong is hot and humid. Some people wear coats and scarves because it is December, but it never comes close to freezing. You can't make a snowman out of warm rain. I suppose you could make a snow angel in the dirt and garbage on the street, but that might be dangerous.
The obvious downside to Christmas in Amsterdam is that I will have absolutely no one with me. I am going there to work, so it is not like I will be locked in a room and staring at the wall all day, but I don't know any of the people I will be working with yet. I would not be at all surprised if I make some genuine friends before it all ends, but probably not in a week. I think I'm pretty easy to get to know, but I rarely trust someone right away. I assume there will be some kind of Christmas party at some point in time. No one has told me anything so far, but it is almost inevitable. I have mixed feeling about office Christmas parties, but obviously I will go if I'm alone in a city I don't really know as well as I think I do.
Tokyo and Barcelona are not the ideal cities for Thanksgiving. They are far from the worst places, but neither country cares about the holiday. Halloween night in Tel Aviv was just like any other night. Fridays and Saturdays always get interesting in Tel Aviv, but I think Halloween that year was on a Monday.
In contrast, Christmas in Amsterdam just feels right. Not only is it a country that actually celebrates the holiday, but they have snow. I have not seen snow on Christmas in a long time. Christmas in Hong Kong is hot and humid. Some people wear coats and scarves because it is December, but it never comes close to freezing. You can't make a snowman out of warm rain. I suppose you could make a snow angel in the dirt and garbage on the street, but that might be dangerous.
The obvious downside to Christmas in Amsterdam is that I will have absolutely no one with me. I am going there to work, so it is not like I will be locked in a room and staring at the wall all day, but I don't know any of the people I will be working with yet. I would not be at all surprised if I make some genuine friends before it all ends, but probably not in a week. I think I'm pretty easy to get to know, but I rarely trust someone right away. I assume there will be some kind of Christmas party at some point in time. No one has told me anything so far, but it is almost inevitable. I have mixed feeling about office Christmas parties, but obviously I will go if I'm alone in a city I don't really know as well as I think I do.
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
Back in the Zadel
After a year of working on the sidelines, I am now partially employed in my chosen profession. I have been teaching ballet to little girls since March, but now I am finally back on stage. It is only a part-time job and 6,000 miles from home, but it's a lot better than nothing.
Before I went to Barcelona, I considered that they might offer me a more permanent job. It was certainly never guaranteed, but stranger things have happened. Instead, I was asked by a visiting choreographer to audition for a company he worked with in Amsterdam. I went to Amsterdam on vacation a few years ago. It is a great city, but nowhere near Barcelona. Fortunately, KLM has several flights every day. Unfortunately, I would have to pay for it. Once you have the job, plane tickets flow like wine, usually in business class. Before you get the job, no one wants to pay for anything.
Having already flown from Hong Kong to Doha, Doha to Barcelona, Barcelona to Porto and Porto to Barcelona, a quick flight to Amsterdam was practically routine. One of the great things about Europe, at least the EU parts, is that it is easy to fly or take a train from here to there. The bad news for people who like to collect stamps in their passport is that none of the airports ever stamp anything. They put an exit stamp when I flew out of Barcelona back to Doha, since I was leaving the EU, but there are no entrance stamps anywhere. I went to five different airports and took eight flights on this trip and my passport was only stamped once.
The detour in Amsterdam meant that I would lose two free days in Barcelona. Instead of seeing the sights, I went to another country. It was far from a waste of time. The choreographer told me who to talk to. I would love to say that I gave a spectacular audition because of my natural talent and grace. The truth is, I had been working practically every day for almost two months just before the audition. When you dance with people who are better than you are, it only makes you better. Had I auditioned straight from my dormant year in Hong Kong, the outcome might have been less exciting.
Much like I did with Tel Aviv, I will be commuting back and forth between Hong Kong and Amsterdam. I will never be in Holland long enough to have any kind of residency status, just like Israel, but that usually means lower taxes. I will have to look into EU tax laws. Israel was surprisingly accommodating to foreign workers. Americans love to complain about taxes, even though we pay less than most of the world, but I am already paying in two different countries. Holland will be number three, so the less they gouge me, the better.
One of the biggest differences between Amsterdam and Tel Aviv will be the living arrangements. In Tel Aviv, they put me up at the Melody Hotel, across the street from Independence Park, which is a short cliff away from the beach and Mediterranean Sea. This was a charming little boutique hotel with bicycles that I rode to work and the best hotel breakfast I have ever had anywhere in the world. I'm sure there are plenty of nice hotels in Tel Aviv, but this one will always be my first choice whenever I go back.
In Amsterdam, I am on my own. No one is putting me up in any hotels. Fortunately, there are other dancers in the same position. Finding a house to share was pretty easy. I was in Amsterdam for two days and I found a place before I left, excluding a few phone calls and emails. It is almost like a time share. When I'm there, everyone else will be somewhere else. I currently have one roommate, and will eventually have two, but I will almost always live there alone. I will probably treat it more like a hotel than a house, except there is no front desk, housekeeping, swimming pool or gym. But there is a full kitchen with everything I would ever need. It is a full-size house, but I am renting a bedroom and sharing a few common rooms. I look at it as an apartment. As an apartment, it is more than big enough for me, but it is enormous for a hotel room. Three people could easily live there at the same time.
One thing Amsterdam has in common with Tel Aviv is the bike culture. Both cities are easy to ride in, and Amsterdam takes bike riding to another level. Riding a bike to work in Tel Aviv was easy. The bike was owned by the hotel, it is a mostly flat city and it was only a two mile ride. Amsterdam is also flat, but there are no free bikes. When I started to seriously think about working in Amsterdam, I looked up bike rentals. It turns out there are a million places I can get one at a reasonable price. But then I found the house. It is less than a mile to the theater and even closer to the rehearsal space. If I don't feel like walking less than 20 minutes, there is a tram a block from the apartment that goes straight to the theater. I like the idea of riding a bike to work, but it is so close, I don't need to in Amsterdam.
I have been to Amsterdam, twice now, but I know nothing about living there. Americans can easily visit without a visa, but anyone who works there has to endure government bureaucracy. I figure the Netherlands cannot possibly have more paperwork than Israel or, the emperor of bureaucracy, China. If I can successfully navigate China's labyrinth, any other country should be easy.
The hardest part about working in another country is usually finding a place to live. It only took a few weeks to find my first apartment in Hong Kong, but we searched for three or four months to find the one we are in now. I'm told that it is pretty hard to find a place in Amsterdam. Obviously, I got lucky. My accidental timing must have been perfect. It also helps that I will not be living there full time. Roommates are easy when you are all in the apartment at different times.
I don't speak a word of Dutch. Some of it looks pretty easy. Yes is ja and no is nee. Some of it might be more challenging. Liability insurance is aansprakelijkheidsverzekering. Then again, I don't know much Hebrew either, and I was fine in Tel Aviv. And almost everyone in Amsterdam speaks English. If I were living there full time, I'm sure I would learn a lot. Since I will only be there in short spurts, and mostly working, I am worried that I will not learn anything. I worked in Israel for a year, but I know precious few words and phrases and can't read any of it. At least Dutch uses a recognizable alphabet.
I miss going to Tel Aviv. The people were as friendly as can be and I ate some of the best food in the world. Amsterdammers seem pretty friendly, but it is too soon to tell. You don't really know what people are like when you go there on vacation. You have to deal with and/or cause local problems.
Amsterdonians? Those Dam people? Yet another thing to figure out.
Before I went to Barcelona, I considered that they might offer me a more permanent job. It was certainly never guaranteed, but stranger things have happened. Instead, I was asked by a visiting choreographer to audition for a company he worked with in Amsterdam. I went to Amsterdam on vacation a few years ago. It is a great city, but nowhere near Barcelona. Fortunately, KLM has several flights every day. Unfortunately, I would have to pay for it. Once you have the job, plane tickets flow like wine, usually in business class. Before you get the job, no one wants to pay for anything.
Having already flown from Hong Kong to Doha, Doha to Barcelona, Barcelona to Porto and Porto to Barcelona, a quick flight to Amsterdam was practically routine. One of the great things about Europe, at least the EU parts, is that it is easy to fly or take a train from here to there. The bad news for people who like to collect stamps in their passport is that none of the airports ever stamp anything. They put an exit stamp when I flew out of Barcelona back to Doha, since I was leaving the EU, but there are no entrance stamps anywhere. I went to five different airports and took eight flights on this trip and my passport was only stamped once.
The detour in Amsterdam meant that I would lose two free days in Barcelona. Instead of seeing the sights, I went to another country. It was far from a waste of time. The choreographer told me who to talk to. I would love to say that I gave a spectacular audition because of my natural talent and grace. The truth is, I had been working practically every day for almost two months just before the audition. When you dance with people who are better than you are, it only makes you better. Had I auditioned straight from my dormant year in Hong Kong, the outcome might have been less exciting.
Much like I did with Tel Aviv, I will be commuting back and forth between Hong Kong and Amsterdam. I will never be in Holland long enough to have any kind of residency status, just like Israel, but that usually means lower taxes. I will have to look into EU tax laws. Israel was surprisingly accommodating to foreign workers. Americans love to complain about taxes, even though we pay less than most of the world, but I am already paying in two different countries. Holland will be number three, so the less they gouge me, the better.
One of the biggest differences between Amsterdam and Tel Aviv will be the living arrangements. In Tel Aviv, they put me up at the Melody Hotel, across the street from Independence Park, which is a short cliff away from the beach and Mediterranean Sea. This was a charming little boutique hotel with bicycles that I rode to work and the best hotel breakfast I have ever had anywhere in the world. I'm sure there are plenty of nice hotels in Tel Aviv, but this one will always be my first choice whenever I go back.
In Amsterdam, I am on my own. No one is putting me up in any hotels. Fortunately, there are other dancers in the same position. Finding a house to share was pretty easy. I was in Amsterdam for two days and I found a place before I left, excluding a few phone calls and emails. It is almost like a time share. When I'm there, everyone else will be somewhere else. I currently have one roommate, and will eventually have two, but I will almost always live there alone. I will probably treat it more like a hotel than a house, except there is no front desk, housekeeping, swimming pool or gym. But there is a full kitchen with everything I would ever need. It is a full-size house, but I am renting a bedroom and sharing a few common rooms. I look at it as an apartment. As an apartment, it is more than big enough for me, but it is enormous for a hotel room. Three people could easily live there at the same time.
One thing Amsterdam has in common with Tel Aviv is the bike culture. Both cities are easy to ride in, and Amsterdam takes bike riding to another level. Riding a bike to work in Tel Aviv was easy. The bike was owned by the hotel, it is a mostly flat city and it was only a two mile ride. Amsterdam is also flat, but there are no free bikes. When I started to seriously think about working in Amsterdam, I looked up bike rentals. It turns out there are a million places I can get one at a reasonable price. But then I found the house. It is less than a mile to the theater and even closer to the rehearsal space. If I don't feel like walking less than 20 minutes, there is a tram a block from the apartment that goes straight to the theater. I like the idea of riding a bike to work, but it is so close, I don't need to in Amsterdam.
I have been to Amsterdam, twice now, but I know nothing about living there. Americans can easily visit without a visa, but anyone who works there has to endure government bureaucracy. I figure the Netherlands cannot possibly have more paperwork than Israel or, the emperor of bureaucracy, China. If I can successfully navigate China's labyrinth, any other country should be easy.
The hardest part about working in another country is usually finding a place to live. It only took a few weeks to find my first apartment in Hong Kong, but we searched for three or four months to find the one we are in now. I'm told that it is pretty hard to find a place in Amsterdam. Obviously, I got lucky. My accidental timing must have been perfect. It also helps that I will not be living there full time. Roommates are easy when you are all in the apartment at different times.
I don't speak a word of Dutch. Some of it looks pretty easy. Yes is ja and no is nee. Some of it might be more challenging. Liability insurance is aansprakelijkheidsverzekering. Then again, I don't know much Hebrew either, and I was fine in Tel Aviv. And almost everyone in Amsterdam speaks English. If I were living there full time, I'm sure I would learn a lot. Since I will only be there in short spurts, and mostly working, I am worried that I will not learn anything. I worked in Israel for a year, but I know precious few words and phrases and can't read any of it. At least Dutch uses a recognizable alphabet.
I miss going to Tel Aviv. The people were as friendly as can be and I ate some of the best food in the world. Amsterdammers seem pretty friendly, but it is too soon to tell. You don't really know what people are like when you go there on vacation. You have to deal with and/or cause local problems.
Amsterdonians? Those Dam people? Yet another thing to figure out.
Tuesday, December 11, 2018
l'Apartament de Barcelona
I shared an apartment in Barcelona for two months with a lovely young dancer from France. Being French, she provided me with an opportunity to practice the language when we both should have been studying Spanish. Or Catalan.
When you work in a foreign country, it is always best to have someone living with you. A local might be ideal, but I like exploring a new place with other foreigners. A local can show you the ropes and make it easier, but you can share the experience with another foreigner. In this case, I did not pick my roommate or apartment. I just got lucky.
The outside door to the Barcelona apartment looked like every other door on a street full of residential buildings that all pretty much looked the same. It took a few days to find the right door on the first try. Beyond the front door was a dark and gloomy hallway that I imagine would have been right at home behind the Iron Curtain. I'm still surprised whenever I see anything in Western Europe that reminds me of Eastern Europe. Up several flights of constantly cornering stairs was another door that looked just like every other door. The only saving grace was that there was only one door per floor. As long as you were on the right floor, it had to be the right door.
Everything changed as soon as that door was opened. The apartment interior was bright and airy. The high walls and ceiling were all various shades of white and there were large windows taking up an entire wall of the living room and kitchen. The bedrooms had smaller windows and they faced south, so there was less light. The living room and kitchen faced east, letting light flood in almost every morning, weather permitting. There was only one bathroom, unfortunately, and it was tiny and dark. The building was at least a hundred years old. Probably older. The kitchen was obviously remodeled some time in the last five years. The living room and bedrooms were decorated in a different decade, but everything was clean and in one piece. The bathroom might have been older than the building. I have seen better equipped outhouses.
The bathroom was clean, but almost useless. The water pressure was a joke. Turning the shower up all the way provided little more than a trickle. We adjusted the water heater in every way imaginable, but that did nothing for the pressure. Eventually, a maintenance person told us that Barcelona was simply a city of low water pressure. I could not help but think he was just being lazy. The water pressure in the kitchen sink was amazing. It was so high that it forced a bowl out of my hand one of the first times I washed dishes. In the kitchen, we had to turn the water as low as possible. In the bathroom, nothing worked better than a bus station.
The bathroom and kitchen were night and day. I loved everything about that kitchen. Not only was there more than enough light in the daytime, there was more than enough counter space at all hours. The refrigerator, oven and washing machine were all new and high tech. Each could be programmed a million different ways that we never understood. Partly because neither of us were used to appliances that require an internet connection and mostly because we both arrived knowing pretty much no Spanish. The kitchen came loaded with all manner of dishes, utensils, silverware, pots and pans. We were surrounded by food all around the city, but could make practically anything in that kitchen.
The apartment had doors everywhere. Each bedroom had a door that led to the living room and another door that led to the hallway that led to the front door. Both the living room and kitchen had doors to the hallway and another door that separated the two. On our first few nights in the apartment, we closed all of the doors for safety, but quickly abandoned that idea and left most of the doors open all the time. With doors open, the light from the living room and kitchen went almost everywhere. Except the bathroom.
The front door was the most complicated. From the outside, there was a single lock that could only be closed by pulling the door tightly shut and forcing the key far more than felt right. From the inside, there were three different locks, one of which had different layers of latching. When we were home, it would have taken a battering ram for someone to force their way in. When we were out, a simple credit card could do the trick.
The best thing about the apartment was that it was an actual apartment. I stayed in an apartment when I worked in Paris and it made all the difference in the world. It felt like I was living there, if only temporarily. The Barcelona apartment was less elegant, and the neighborhood was not as photogenic, but it felt far more genuine than a hotel. I would never want to buy that particular apartment, but it was a nice place to stay for a couple of months.
When you work in a foreign country, it is always best to have someone living with you. A local might be ideal, but I like exploring a new place with other foreigners. A local can show you the ropes and make it easier, but you can share the experience with another foreigner. In this case, I did not pick my roommate or apartment. I just got lucky.
The outside door to the Barcelona apartment looked like every other door on a street full of residential buildings that all pretty much looked the same. It took a few days to find the right door on the first try. Beyond the front door was a dark and gloomy hallway that I imagine would have been right at home behind the Iron Curtain. I'm still surprised whenever I see anything in Western Europe that reminds me of Eastern Europe. Up several flights of constantly cornering stairs was another door that looked just like every other door. The only saving grace was that there was only one door per floor. As long as you were on the right floor, it had to be the right door.
Everything changed as soon as that door was opened. The apartment interior was bright and airy. The high walls and ceiling were all various shades of white and there were large windows taking up an entire wall of the living room and kitchen. The bedrooms had smaller windows and they faced south, so there was less light. The living room and kitchen faced east, letting light flood in almost every morning, weather permitting. There was only one bathroom, unfortunately, and it was tiny and dark. The building was at least a hundred years old. Probably older. The kitchen was obviously remodeled some time in the last five years. The living room and bedrooms were decorated in a different decade, but everything was clean and in one piece. The bathroom might have been older than the building. I have seen better equipped outhouses.
The bathroom was clean, but almost useless. The water pressure was a joke. Turning the shower up all the way provided little more than a trickle. We adjusted the water heater in every way imaginable, but that did nothing for the pressure. Eventually, a maintenance person told us that Barcelona was simply a city of low water pressure. I could not help but think he was just being lazy. The water pressure in the kitchen sink was amazing. It was so high that it forced a bowl out of my hand one of the first times I washed dishes. In the kitchen, we had to turn the water as low as possible. In the bathroom, nothing worked better than a bus station.
The bathroom and kitchen were night and day. I loved everything about that kitchen. Not only was there more than enough light in the daytime, there was more than enough counter space at all hours. The refrigerator, oven and washing machine were all new and high tech. Each could be programmed a million different ways that we never understood. Partly because neither of us were used to appliances that require an internet connection and mostly because we both arrived knowing pretty much no Spanish. The kitchen came loaded with all manner of dishes, utensils, silverware, pots and pans. We were surrounded by food all around the city, but could make practically anything in that kitchen.
The apartment had doors everywhere. Each bedroom had a door that led to the living room and another door that led to the hallway that led to the front door. Both the living room and kitchen had doors to the hallway and another door that separated the two. On our first few nights in the apartment, we closed all of the doors for safety, but quickly abandoned that idea and left most of the doors open all the time. With doors open, the light from the living room and kitchen went almost everywhere. Except the bathroom.
The front door was the most complicated. From the outside, there was a single lock that could only be closed by pulling the door tightly shut and forcing the key far more than felt right. From the inside, there were three different locks, one of which had different layers of latching. When we were home, it would have taken a battering ram for someone to force their way in. When we were out, a simple credit card could do the trick.
The best thing about the apartment was that it was an actual apartment. I stayed in an apartment when I worked in Paris and it made all the difference in the world. It felt like I was living there, if only temporarily. The Barcelona apartment was less elegant, and the neighborhood was not as photogenic, but it felt far more genuine than a hotel. I would never want to buy that particular apartment, but it was a nice place to stay for a couple of months.
Sunday, December 9, 2018
Veneza de Portugal
Aveiro, a tiny coastal village in central Portugal, is called the Venice of Portugal, for some reason. It has a few canals running through the city, but is above sea level and not likely to be flooded into extinction any time soon. I have never been to Venice, but I have to assume it is far more beautiful.
We took the train from Porto to Aveiro, which is a pleasant little 45 minute ride along the Atlantic coast. Unfortunately, we spent less than 12 hours in town, and I was working about half of that time, so what I know about Aveiro can fill two or three paragraphs.
Aveiro is not a crowded town, at least not in October. The largest crowd we saw on Aveiro day was at the Porto train station. Porto is not nearly as big as Barcelona, but there were more people milling about the station than I would have expected. The Porto train station is a popular tourist site, mostly for the murals on the ceiling, but once you pass the lobby, the crowds thin out. There were hundreds of people in the station, but almost no one waiting for our train.
Aveiro is famous for salt, I have been told. Everywhere we went, people were selling salt. I never bought any because salt should cost less than 20 euros for a 4 ounce bottle. Salt in different colors and mixed with herbs and spices does not impress me much. The ceramic trinkets and knick knacks were more impressive, but I generally don't buy souvenirs if they are only going to sit on a shelf and never do anything.
Aveiro also has colored boats that take people around the canals, but I never went on one.
During my time in Porto, several people said nice things about Aveiro. I'm sure there is something to it that I missed, but I was simply not there long enough.
We took the train from Porto to Aveiro, which is a pleasant little 45 minute ride along the Atlantic coast. Unfortunately, we spent less than 12 hours in town, and I was working about half of that time, so what I know about Aveiro can fill two or three paragraphs.
Aveiro is not a crowded town, at least not in October. The largest crowd we saw on Aveiro day was at the Porto train station. Porto is not nearly as big as Barcelona, but there were more people milling about the station than I would have expected. The Porto train station is a popular tourist site, mostly for the murals on the ceiling, but once you pass the lobby, the crowds thin out. There were hundreds of people in the station, but almost no one waiting for our train.
Aveiro is famous for salt, I have been told. Everywhere we went, people were selling salt. I never bought any because salt should cost less than 20 euros for a 4 ounce bottle. Salt in different colors and mixed with herbs and spices does not impress me much. The ceramic trinkets and knick knacks were more impressive, but I generally don't buy souvenirs if they are only going to sit on a shelf and never do anything.
Aveiro also has colored boats that take people around the canals, but I never went on one.
During my time in Porto, several people said nice things about Aveiro. I'm sure there is something to it that I missed, but I was simply not there long enough.
Saturday, December 8, 2018
John Lennon
We don't care what flag you're waving
We don't even want to know your name
We don't care where you're from or where you're going
All we know is that you came
You're making all our decisions
We have just one request of you
That while you're thinking things over
Here's something you just better do
Free the people now
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now
We were caught with our hands in the air
Don't despair paranoia is everywhere
We can shake it with love when we're scared
So let's shout it aloud like a prayer
Free the people now
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now
We understand your paranoia
But we don't want to play your game
You think you're cool and know what you are doing
And 666 is your name
So while you're jerking off each other
You better bear this thought in mind
Your time is up, you better know it
But maybe you don't read the signs
Free the people now
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now
Well you were caught with your hands in the kill
And you still got to swallow your pill
As you slip and you slide down the hill
On the blood of the people you killed
Stop the killing now
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now
Bring on the Lucie
Friday, December 7, 2018
Pearl Harbor
“Yesterday, December 7, 1941 – a date which will live in infamy – the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.
“The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleagues delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.
“It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.
“The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.
“Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam. Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine islands. Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island. And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island. Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.
“As commander in chief of the army and navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.
“I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.
“Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger. With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph, so help us God.
“I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.”
--President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, 12/8/1941
Pearl Harbor National Memorial
“The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleagues delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.
“It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.
“The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.
“Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam. Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine islands. Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island. And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island. Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.
“As commander in chief of the army and navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.
“I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.
“Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger. With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph, so help us God.
“I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.”
--President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, 12/8/1941
Thursday, December 6, 2018
A Invicta Cidade do Porto
While I was struggling with Spanish, made harder by the fact that the language of Barcelona is Catalan, we went to Portugal. Catalan feels like a dialect of Spanish, but I'm told it branched out of Latin, independent of Spanish. In writing, Catalan looks similar to French, but the pronunciation sounds slightly more Italian. Not that it ever really mattered. Everyone I met spoke Spanish. If you grew up in Catalunya, you learned Spanish in school. Older people were even forbidden to learn Catalan when they were younger. And a lot of people in Barcelona speak English. Except at Tim Hortons, for some reason. No one who works there spoke English. Fortunately, I know how to say, “Diez timbits para llevar, por favor.” What flavors? That is why pointing was invented. Even if everyone in the donut shop speaks the same language, you point at what you want. Except at Krispy Kreme. Then you only have to tell them how many boxes of glazed donuts you want.
Portuguese is a horse of a different color (un caballo de un color diferente, probably something diferente em portugues). In writing, it looks similar to Spanish, but nothing sounds the same. Read something aloud in Portugal the way you would read it in Spain and the person you are speaking to will have no idea what you are talking about. Let them read the paper and they will understand it completely. It reminded me of Chinese, except that Portuguese and Spanish are entirely different languages while Chinese and Chinese are region specific.
We spent a week in Portugal, in the small coastal city of Porto. By Portuguese standards, Porto is considered a large city. It has about as many people as Richmond, Virginia, so I consider it a small city. When you live in China, anything with fewer than 5 million people is a small city. Under 500,000 is a tiny village. Porto is one of those little European villages that likes to think it is an old city. As an American, I'm supposed to be impressed by how old it is. Porto was founded almost one thousand years before my home state. But again, living in China changes your perspective. By the time Porto got its own flag, China had already had a hundred civil wars, rebellions, insurrections, uprisings, insurgencies and revolutions. One hundred might sound like embellishment or hyperbole, but I'm probably low balling it.
We flew to Porto even though there are plenty of trains to and from Barcelona. The idea was that planes are faster. But with a train, you buy your ticket and get on the train. You can arrive at the station five minutes before your train leaves. There are probably restrictions on what you can bring in your luggage. Bombs and rocket launchers might not be allowed. But no one ever checks. Bring whatever you want on the train. Airports are a little more strict. Water, of all things, is forbidden. You can bring water on the plane, but you have to buy the $10 bottle from the airport. A two hour flight takes seven hours, at least. Then you have to get from the airport to wherever you are going. Airports are rarely anywhere near the city center. Train stations are mostly downtown.
Downtown Porto was a nice looking city. I can't say it was the best looking city in Europe. There is too much competition for that title. But it was nice to look at, especially at night. The lights along the river and across Ponte de Dom Luis I were far more subtle than anything I see every day in Hong Kong. When you are in Porto, you have to walk across the bridge. It's like going up the Eiffel Tower. You never see the locals doing it, but it is always packed full of people.
We rarely used the metro, but it looked like your typically efficient European public transportation. And it has to be. Porto is a hilly city. It's like San Francisco on steroids, with cobblestones instead of smooth pavement. And more hills. San Francisco has the Embarcadero and Golden Gate Park. I never saw any flat areas in Porto. Even the riverbanks went from water to hills. Walking around the city counts as a daily workout. There are a couple of streetcars, so you can get around and still see the city, but they are overpriced and don't really go anywhere. I think they are strictly for the tourists.
When I walked around, I saw construction. Everywhere. I don't know if it is always like this because of all the old buildings or I came at the wrong time, but it felt like every corner I turned led to more scaffolding and large machines making heavy noises. Mercado do Bolhao, easily the most famous market in the city, was completely closed for renovation. There was a temporary market a block away, but it was much smaller and had absolutely no charm.
It was also impossible to walk anywhere without a busker around the corner. I only saw one or two in Barcelona, but they were out in force in Porto. I can only imagine what it is like at the height of tourist season. Most of them were not especially good, but they all played songs I recognized. One busker at the Ribeira stood with his back to the river and sang “Tiny Dancer”, “Imagine” and REM's “Nightswimming”. He only had an acoustic guitar and a weak voice, but he obviously loved what he sang. Hearing familiar songs in public is becoming increasingly rare the further I grow out of touch with today's music. The buskers of Porto, at least, were as stuck in the past as I am.
Just outside the city, at the mouth of the Douro River, is the Atlantic Ocean. As oceans go, it was a nice change of pace. There were long beaches along the Foz do Douro, but it was still not good beach weather. It was a sunnier day than when I went to the Barcelona beach, but it was still October. I'm sure the Atlantic Ocean is colder than the Mediterranean. I have nothing to back that up. It's just an assumption.
In Porto, we stayed in a hotel that called itself an apartment. The Barcelona apartment was an actual apartment. It looked and felt like an apartment, and had obviously been around a while. The Porto “apartment” was shiny and new. It had a tiny kitchen and separate living room/bedrooms, but it felt nothing like an apartment. Since we were only there for a week, it never really mattered. A week in a hotel can be a nice break. For a month or two, a genuine apartment is always better. Hotels can get old pretty fast, and you always feel like a visitor. In an apartment, you can pretend you actually live there. The funny thing is, I spent twice as much time in Barcelona as I did in Paris a few years ago, but I felt more like I was living in Paris. Maybe it was a greater familiarity with the language and culture. Or maybe I just like Paris better. Barcelona seems like a good place, but I never felt any real connection. Maybe I have to go back some day.
Portuguese is a horse of a different color (un caballo de un color diferente, probably something diferente em portugues). In writing, it looks similar to Spanish, but nothing sounds the same. Read something aloud in Portugal the way you would read it in Spain and the person you are speaking to will have no idea what you are talking about. Let them read the paper and they will understand it completely. It reminded me of Chinese, except that Portuguese and Spanish are entirely different languages while Chinese and Chinese are region specific.
We spent a week in Portugal, in the small coastal city of Porto. By Portuguese standards, Porto is considered a large city. It has about as many people as Richmond, Virginia, so I consider it a small city. When you live in China, anything with fewer than 5 million people is a small city. Under 500,000 is a tiny village. Porto is one of those little European villages that likes to think it is an old city. As an American, I'm supposed to be impressed by how old it is. Porto was founded almost one thousand years before my home state. But again, living in China changes your perspective. By the time Porto got its own flag, China had already had a hundred civil wars, rebellions, insurrections, uprisings, insurgencies and revolutions. One hundred might sound like embellishment or hyperbole, but I'm probably low balling it.
We flew to Porto even though there are plenty of trains to and from Barcelona. The idea was that planes are faster. But with a train, you buy your ticket and get on the train. You can arrive at the station five minutes before your train leaves. There are probably restrictions on what you can bring in your luggage. Bombs and rocket launchers might not be allowed. But no one ever checks. Bring whatever you want on the train. Airports are a little more strict. Water, of all things, is forbidden. You can bring water on the plane, but you have to buy the $10 bottle from the airport. A two hour flight takes seven hours, at least. Then you have to get from the airport to wherever you are going. Airports are rarely anywhere near the city center. Train stations are mostly downtown.
Downtown Porto was a nice looking city. I can't say it was the best looking city in Europe. There is too much competition for that title. But it was nice to look at, especially at night. The lights along the river and across Ponte de Dom Luis I were far more subtle than anything I see every day in Hong Kong. When you are in Porto, you have to walk across the bridge. It's like going up the Eiffel Tower. You never see the locals doing it, but it is always packed full of people.
We rarely used the metro, but it looked like your typically efficient European public transportation. And it has to be. Porto is a hilly city. It's like San Francisco on steroids, with cobblestones instead of smooth pavement. And more hills. San Francisco has the Embarcadero and Golden Gate Park. I never saw any flat areas in Porto. Even the riverbanks went from water to hills. Walking around the city counts as a daily workout. There are a couple of streetcars, so you can get around and still see the city, but they are overpriced and don't really go anywhere. I think they are strictly for the tourists.
When I walked around, I saw construction. Everywhere. I don't know if it is always like this because of all the old buildings or I came at the wrong time, but it felt like every corner I turned led to more scaffolding and large machines making heavy noises. Mercado do Bolhao, easily the most famous market in the city, was completely closed for renovation. There was a temporary market a block away, but it was much smaller and had absolutely no charm.
It was also impossible to walk anywhere without a busker around the corner. I only saw one or two in Barcelona, but they were out in force in Porto. I can only imagine what it is like at the height of tourist season. Most of them were not especially good, but they all played songs I recognized. One busker at the Ribeira stood with his back to the river and sang “Tiny Dancer”, “Imagine” and REM's “Nightswimming”. He only had an acoustic guitar and a weak voice, but he obviously loved what he sang. Hearing familiar songs in public is becoming increasingly rare the further I grow out of touch with today's music. The buskers of Porto, at least, were as stuck in the past as I am.
Just outside the city, at the mouth of the Douro River, is the Atlantic Ocean. As oceans go, it was a nice change of pace. There were long beaches along the Foz do Douro, but it was still not good beach weather. It was a sunnier day than when I went to the Barcelona beach, but it was still October. I'm sure the Atlantic Ocean is colder than the Mediterranean. I have nothing to back that up. It's just an assumption.
In Porto, we stayed in a hotel that called itself an apartment. The Barcelona apartment was an actual apartment. It looked and felt like an apartment, and had obviously been around a while. The Porto “apartment” was shiny and new. It had a tiny kitchen and separate living room/bedrooms, but it felt nothing like an apartment. Since we were only there for a week, it never really mattered. A week in a hotel can be a nice break. For a month or two, a genuine apartment is always better. Hotels can get old pretty fast, and you always feel like a visitor. In an apartment, you can pretend you actually live there. The funny thing is, I spent twice as much time in Barcelona as I did in Paris a few years ago, but I felt more like I was living in Paris. Maybe it was a greater familiarity with the language and culture. Or maybe I just like Paris better. Barcelona seems like a good place, but I never felt any real connection. Maybe I have to go back some day.
Sunday, December 2, 2018
La Capital de Catalunya
I spent almost two months in Barcelona, but I really can't say much about the city. I spent most of my time working, and we did a quick tour in Portugal. I saw very little beyond the immediate neighborhood around my apartment. I walked past la Sagrada Familia and a couple of Gaudi houses almost every day, but I never went inside any of them. In another neighborhood, I took the telefèric up to Castell de Montjuic. But I don't know anything about the castle's history. I do know there are great views of the city from the castle and cable car. I think the most time I spent outside of work was at el Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya. The building and grounds were works of art as much as the collections inside. At the top of a lot of steps, it also had great views.
The people in residential areas were friendly, but the more crowded areas had too many tourists. The first time I went to la Rambla was a Saturday night, so I thought that was why it was so crowded. I went again on a Wednesday morning and it was almost as bad. I think there are simply some parts of Barcelona that are unbearable no matter what time or day.
You would think living in Hong Kong made me immune to immense crowds, but there is something oddly different about Chinese overpopulation compared to overcrowding in places like Europe and North America. It is almost comfortable in China. Maybe not comfortable. Tolerable might be a better word. Trudging through an endless river of bodies in Europe is one of my least favorite ways to spend the day. Other than la Boqueria, I did not see much reason to visit la Rambla. Unless you like overpriced shopping. La Boqueria was a loud little market, infinitely better in the morning than later in the day. It reminded me of le Marché Provençal in Antibes. It was nice, but far from the best local market in the world. That would be Mahane Yehuda in Jerusalem.
The Barcelona metro (el Metro de Barcelona) was efficient, but there does not seem to be a smart card system like Hong Kong's octopus or Tokyo's Pasmo. There were a million different ticket types, so I just went with the monthly pass. Much like Paris, every station required walking up and down multiple flights of stairs, with only the occasional escalator. I don't know how people in wheelchairs get around. Europe has some amazing looking cities to walk around, as long as your body is fully functional.
Unfortunately, I can't say anything about the food. I ate plenty of it. I usually eat a lot while rehearsing, and maybe a little less between shows, so I used to have plenty of opinions about the food around me. In Barcelona, I had some empanadas, escalivada, and a lot of potatoes, mostly with aioli. I don't think you are allowed to eat potatoes without aioli in Barcelona I ate paella because you have to when you are in Spain. That's another law. And tapas, of course. You can't walk two blocks in Barcelona without running into a tasca or tapas bar. There were a lot of tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant and peppers in practically everything. Before this trip, I could not remember the last time I ate eggplant. In Barcelona, I can't remember a day without it. The city is on the Mediterranean, so there was plenty of olive oil everywhere. No hummus, though. That was disappointing. I'm sure there is some somewhere, but I never saw any.
I don't know what anything tasted like, but most of the food looked familiar. Empanadas are essentially the same as sambousek. Dough stuffed with food is pretty common all over the world. Paella is Spanish jambalaya. Tapas and dim sum are the same concept. I had crema catalana in Barcelona, which is crème brulee, and pastel de nata in Portugal, which is available at bakeries all over Macau and Hong Kong.
Interestingly enough, tortillas in Barcelona are nothing like Mexico. They are omelettes, frittatas or any similar egg dish. I saw a sign for tortillas at one of the stalls at la Boqueria and thought about bringing some back to the apartment to use later. The stall owner was confused when I wanted a dozen. I was pretty sure it was not a language issue. I know that doce means twelve, and I know what a tortilla is. Or so I thought. When he held up a large plate of an even larger omelette, I learned what a tortilla is in Spain. I never found any Mexican tortillas, under any name, in any of the grocery stores. I guess they never confuse the two if they only have one.
I can't say much about the beaches. October/November is not ideal beach weather and I only went once. It looked like it was going to rain the entire day, so the only people out beyond the promenade were the surfers. It is probably a nice area during summer.
Shopping is ridiculously easy in Barcelona. My apartment was between a large Carrefour and a small Condis. There were tiny 24H convenience stores every two blocks in every direction. They all seemed to be owned and/or operated by Arabs, which only reminded me of Apu and the stereotype of certain minority groups covering certain occupations. We don't see a lot of that where I live. In China, every 7-Eleven is staffed by Chinese people. Every taxi driver is Chinese. Every gardener is Chinese. The richest people, and those who do all the work for them, are all Chinese.
The apartment was in a residential neighborhood, but only a few blocks from la plaça de Catalunya, probably the most important plaza in the city. As far as I could tell, plaça de Catalunya is the shopping, entertainment and transportation hub of the entire city. It is surrounded by shopping malls, department stores and pedestrian malls. Several museums are just north of the square, with theaters and churches in every direction. You can catch several different L trains, a few R trains and dozens of buses, including the airport express bus. Most importantly, it had a Tim Hortons.
La Boqueria is the famous market, just south of plaça de Catalunya and a 20 minute walk from the apartment. But there are less crowded options at el Mercat de la Concepció, just off el Passeig de Grà cia, and el Mercat de Santa Caterina, a few blocks from the Cathedral. Unlike Paris, Barcelona does not close on Sundays. There was no reason to go hungry, so I never did.
The people in residential areas were friendly, but the more crowded areas had too many tourists. The first time I went to la Rambla was a Saturday night, so I thought that was why it was so crowded. I went again on a Wednesday morning and it was almost as bad. I think there are simply some parts of Barcelona that are unbearable no matter what time or day.
You would think living in Hong Kong made me immune to immense crowds, but there is something oddly different about Chinese overpopulation compared to overcrowding in places like Europe and North America. It is almost comfortable in China. Maybe not comfortable. Tolerable might be a better word. Trudging through an endless river of bodies in Europe is one of my least favorite ways to spend the day. Other than la Boqueria, I did not see much reason to visit la Rambla. Unless you like overpriced shopping. La Boqueria was a loud little market, infinitely better in the morning than later in the day. It reminded me of le Marché Provençal in Antibes. It was nice, but far from the best local market in the world. That would be Mahane Yehuda in Jerusalem.
The Barcelona metro (el Metro de Barcelona) was efficient, but there does not seem to be a smart card system like Hong Kong's octopus or Tokyo's Pasmo. There were a million different ticket types, so I just went with the monthly pass. Much like Paris, every station required walking up and down multiple flights of stairs, with only the occasional escalator. I don't know how people in wheelchairs get around. Europe has some amazing looking cities to walk around, as long as your body is fully functional.
Unfortunately, I can't say anything about the food. I ate plenty of it. I usually eat a lot while rehearsing, and maybe a little less between shows, so I used to have plenty of opinions about the food around me. In Barcelona, I had some empanadas, escalivada, and a lot of potatoes, mostly with aioli. I don't think you are allowed to eat potatoes without aioli in Barcelona I ate paella because you have to when you are in Spain. That's another law. And tapas, of course. You can't walk two blocks in Barcelona without running into a tasca or tapas bar. There were a lot of tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant and peppers in practically everything. Before this trip, I could not remember the last time I ate eggplant. In Barcelona, I can't remember a day without it. The city is on the Mediterranean, so there was plenty of olive oil everywhere. No hummus, though. That was disappointing. I'm sure there is some somewhere, but I never saw any.
I don't know what anything tasted like, but most of the food looked familiar. Empanadas are essentially the same as sambousek. Dough stuffed with food is pretty common all over the world. Paella is Spanish jambalaya. Tapas and dim sum are the same concept. I had crema catalana in Barcelona, which is crème brulee, and pastel de nata in Portugal, which is available at bakeries all over Macau and Hong Kong.
Interestingly enough, tortillas in Barcelona are nothing like Mexico. They are omelettes, frittatas or any similar egg dish. I saw a sign for tortillas at one of the stalls at la Boqueria and thought about bringing some back to the apartment to use later. The stall owner was confused when I wanted a dozen. I was pretty sure it was not a language issue. I know that doce means twelve, and I know what a tortilla is. Or so I thought. When he held up a large plate of an even larger omelette, I learned what a tortilla is in Spain. I never found any Mexican tortillas, under any name, in any of the grocery stores. I guess they never confuse the two if they only have one.
I can't say much about the beaches. October/November is not ideal beach weather and I only went once. It looked like it was going to rain the entire day, so the only people out beyond the promenade were the surfers. It is probably a nice area during summer.
Shopping is ridiculously easy in Barcelona. My apartment was between a large Carrefour and a small Condis. There were tiny 24H convenience stores every two blocks in every direction. They all seemed to be owned and/or operated by Arabs, which only reminded me of Apu and the stereotype of certain minority groups covering certain occupations. We don't see a lot of that where I live. In China, every 7-Eleven is staffed by Chinese people. Every taxi driver is Chinese. Every gardener is Chinese. The richest people, and those who do all the work for them, are all Chinese.
The apartment was in a residential neighborhood, but only a few blocks from la plaça de Catalunya, probably the most important plaza in the city. As far as I could tell, plaça de Catalunya is the shopping, entertainment and transportation hub of the entire city. It is surrounded by shopping malls, department stores and pedestrian malls. Several museums are just north of the square, with theaters and churches in every direction. You can catch several different L trains, a few R trains and dozens of buses, including the airport express bus. Most importantly, it had a Tim Hortons.
La Boqueria is the famous market, just south of plaça de Catalunya and a 20 minute walk from the apartment. But there are less crowded options at el Mercat de la Concepció, just off el Passeig de Grà cia, and el Mercat de Santa Caterina, a few blocks from the Cathedral. Unlike Paris, Barcelona does not close on Sundays. There was no reason to go hungry, so I never did.
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