Dubrovnik

Dubronvik didn’t disappoint. This medieval walled city was everything I hoped it would be - and more. Built in the 11th century, its spectacular walls provide a stunning view of the Adriatic and unforgettable glimpses of the postcard city they surround. The present structures date from the rebuilding that followed a devastating earthquake in 1667. Everywhere you look, brown buildings and their red tiled roofs fill the view, window boxes adorn narrow pathways and boats bob in sheltered harbour.


We entered the old city by boat; just like merchants visiting centuries ago. As we passed the soaring six-metre thick walls of St John fort, a sky of dramatic rainclouds filled the horizon. The entire scenic was a true Hollywood moment. I was left wondering how any army could bombard such a beautiful location; an event that actually happened in 1991-92. For months the former Yugoslav National Armed Forces attacked the city with gunships and artillery during the Croatian War of Independence. While everything has long since been repaired, you can identify the dozens of buildings damaged using a map located just inside the city’s land-locked Pile Gate.


A new musuem dedicated to the Croatian War of Independence has been created inside the Imperial Fort. The fort sits on the 400 metre summit of Mount Srd, directly behind Dubrovnik. When our flight home was delayed Garry and I took time out to drive up to the fort. This massive concrete structure was built by Napoleon's occupying army in 1808. Inside we saw news footage of Dubronvik's old city under attack, including scenes of the fort itself being hit.

Getting to the fort took nerves of steel. Access is via a narrow single-lane road that winds its way up a steep rock face, before precariously tracing the cliff top. However, the spectacular view from the fort’s rooftop made the heart-stopping journey well worthwhile. From this vantage point Dubrovnik’s defensive cliff-hugging location becomes all too apparent. Below us the red-roofed old town dazzled as the Elaphite islands stretched off into the distance.


Its ancient walls are also clear to see. They completely surround the old town, a circumference of almost two kilometers, reaching a height of 25 meters in places. The wall is unique in Europe. Almost nowhere else is a town wall so well preserved. You can walk the entire length of the wall’s crest. Periodically your journey is interrupted by one of fifteen towers, all built in the 16th century. Some even let you climb higher to get a better view. We spent several hours watching the city’s landscape unfold, briefly interrupted by an unforeseen rain shower. The view of red tiled roofs is something I’ll never forget.


We then wandered through the old city’s cobbled laneways, including Stradun the original main street that dissects the entire area from north to south. We briefly visited the local cathedral (a poor cousin to some of Europe’s other houses of worship) and the Franciscan Monastery which includes a 14th century cloister. The Monastery also includes the oldest pharmacy in Europe still in operation. The locals claim it opened for business in 1317. I was a little disappointed by what I saw but subsequently impressed by two spectacular missile holes from 1991 still visible in the interior walls.


An unexpected highlight of our visit was lunch. We discovered a delightful pizza restaurant tucked into a tiny cellar off a quiet laneway. Dining at rustic wooden tables in stone clad room made us feel as if we’d stepped back in time to an era when Dubrovnik was an independent city state commanding the entire Dalmatian Coast.

We were also pleased we’d chosen autumn to visit. The crowds were heavy in many places despite the inclement weather. It's clear that Dubrovnik is engulfed by tourist chaos at the height of Summer. Unfortunately for us, last weekend was unseasonably cold. More than one local told us the weather was highly unusual. However, even in the cold, Dubrovnik is magic. Visit if you can!

Walls, walls, walls

Dubrovnik isn’t the only spectacular walled city along the Dalmatian Coast. About two hours south, in Montenegro, lies the medieval town of Kotor. This wonderfully preserved town is surrounded by 4.5kms of impressive stone walls. Those facing the waterfront are the most impressive; 20 metres high and 15 metres wide. Kotor itself sits in s spectacular location, nestled at the end of a long fjord-like finger of the Adriatic Sea called the Boka Kotorska (Gulf of Kotor).


Kotor is reached by a scenic road tracing the dramatic shoreline. It takes more than an hour to drive this winding route, past soaring, barren limestone cliffs and villages populated by old stone buildings. Perhaps the most memorable sight along the way is the blue-domed church of Otok Gospa. While the building itself isn’t particularly note-worthy, its location is. The church sits on tiny man-made island in the middle of the gulf.


The old town of Kotor itself is a beautiful place. We spent more than an hour wandering its narrow cobblestone streets lined with all manner of magnificent stone buildings. The most impressive is its iconic postcard perfect Cathedral of Saint Tryphon. This venue’s twin towers stand above a spacious square, framed by a soaring stone cliff face. Unfortunately, the day that Garry and I visited, it was cold and damp; and the place was almost deserted. This left us with a sense of desolation rather than memories of a lively museum town that seemed to grace every guide book.


The other walled city we visited was Ston, and its neighouring port of Mali Ston. Both are located on the Peljesac peninsula, an hour north of Dubrovnik. Ston’s stone walls reminded me of another famous fortification, the Great Wall of China. At regular intervals, the wall’s narrow length is broken by a series of fortified towers. Each wall towers up to 15 metres high; first circling a small town of stone buildings before snaking dramatically up and around a nearby hillside.


Ston’s walls extend for more than six kilometres, ending on the opposite side of a narrow peninsular at the coastal village of Mali Ston. The village was completed in 1490 and clearly resembles the port of Dubrovnik with three arsenals, a round tower and a fortified port gate. As we walked down its narrow cobblestone lanes I was reminded of Mousehole, the Cornish coastal town we visited in May.


We later completed our visit by driving along the coast to Prapatna cove. This is a narrow bay with two distinguishing features; a ferry terminal for boats to the island of Hvar and small sandy beach. We stopped on the beach for a breezy autumn picnic lunch using produce we’d bought at a small local mini-mart in Ston. As with the drive to Kotor, the winding coastal road to Ston took us past some spectacular scenery. The Dalmatian Coast really is as rugged and picturesque as an atlas glance suggests.

Stranded in Croatia

We're back from a four-day weekend in Croatia. Our original itinerary involved a three-day break. However, stormy weather on Sunday evening resulted in British Airways cancelling our flight. Garry and I were forced to add another 24-hours to our trip, all the while accomodated at a five-star hotel courtesy of BA. We made the most of our extra day, taking in some additional sightseeing north of Dubrovnik.

While being stranded without warning wasn't ideal, I have to admit the weather was pretty appalling on Sunday night. Taking off in such conditions would have been a hair-raising experience by any measure. More about our weekend tomorrow including highlights from the pictureque town of Kotor, the stone walls of Stom and the truly majestic Dubrovnik.

In case you're wondering, the photo gracing this post was taken on our first day. The only time we saw blue skies and sunshine. The scene shown here was a sheltered bay in Cavtat, a postcard perfect town we made our home base. On Sunday evening even this sheltered bay was churned into a scene of white capped waves and wildly rocking boats.

UPDATE
I've added links to this post that take you to more recent posts about our time in Croatia.

Haste makes waste?

At last count there were 3.03 million vehicles registered in Greater London, of which 2.6 million were cars. These cars represent about 9.2% of the nation’s total count of 28.4 million cars. In 2008, private cars, clocked up an average of 8,130 miles each. That's almost more miles than our own car has done in the last five years. We're clearly not doing our bit!.

However, as more and more cars pour on to local roads, average vehicle speed in London has fallen below that of a horse-drawn carriage. In 1903 traffic in central London travelled at a speed of 12mph. By 2007 the average had fallen to 11mph. I’ve even seen statistics that claim London drivers spent around half their time in queues, incurring 2.3 minutes of delay for every kilometer they traveled.

Today Garry and I got a taste of this congestion driving to the supermarket. Traffic was backed up everywhere as we drove north forcing us to take an winding route on back road bordering Hampstead Heath. Things got even worse coming home. Traffic was backed up in the supermarket carpark, as the local access road was chocked in all directions. It took us 15 minutes to travel just 400 metres, a journey that should take less than two minutes from the Supermarket exit to the nearest A road. According to the Government this sort of congestion poses a very real long-term economic threat. If left unchecked, by 2025, it could cost an extra £22 billion a year in wasted time in England alone.


The City of London’s answer to this problem became a globally renowned case study in traffic management. In 2003, the city introduced an 8-square-mile congestion charging zone in the central city. From Monday to Friday, between 7am and 6pm, a daily charge of £8 is paid by every vehicle entering or travelling within the zone. Their presence is detected and monitored by 688 cameras at 203 sites scattered across the city.

The cameras can record number plates with a 90% accuracy rate using sophisticated number plate recognition technology. Every day they tracks and photographs the license plates of more than 250,000 cars. Travel in the zone without paying the charge and they’ll ensure you attract a fine of between £60 and £180.

The system’s success attracts considerable debate, even more so given its £130.1 million annual running cost. In 2003, six months after the congestion charge was first brought in, traffic speed rose from 8.5mph to 11mph, cutting journey times by 15%. However, more recent analysis suggests that this modest 1.5mph improvement has since disappeared. By 2008 traffic speeds were virtually back to their early 2003 levels. It’s no wonder 43% of people living in London do not own or have access to a car. Walking is probably faster.

Out after midnight

London has a fantastic system of night buses. These travel on special routes across the city throughout the night, offering reliable public transport long after the last tube train has departed. The cashless Oystercard system we use on the tube and regular buses is also valid on on a night bus, which tend to run at 10-15 minute intervals. The entire system makes it incredibly cheap and easy to get home after a late night out - no matter what the hour.

Last week Garry and I attended a party in Stockwell, a suburb several kilometers south of the Thames. We got there on the tube about 8.30pm. The last of us eventually left about 2am. Thanks to two night buses we got home in less than hour at a fraction of the cost of a cab (and probably not much later than a cab across town. Not too bad for an 11km trip across the city in the dead of night.

London’s night bus service has been running since 1913. Today, more than 102 separate routes are in operation, with more than 30 million passenger trips taken every year. This equals almost 15% of all bus journeys taken in London. We normally catch the N13 which takes us right to the entrance of Swiss Cottage tube station, leaving a short five-minute walk home. Despite tracing one of the city’s oldest tube lines, this route only started operation in 1984. Incredibly, two early routes dating as far back as 1934 still operate today. This includes the network’s shortest route; the 10km N97 bus route.

Where has all our money gone?

Overnight the Reserve Bank of Australia (RBA) raised interest rates by 0.25%. Australia is now the first G20 country to increase interest rates since the global recession took hold. Its base rate also remains above that of many nations. This means Australian banks typically offer a higher interest rate on regular savings.

In the UK most savings accounts current pay zero interest. In desperation banks here have taken to offering one-year introductory rates of up to 3% for new account holders. This practice forces savers to bank hop annually in search of a modest return. Given this dour savings scenario, international investors are pouring money into Australia and thus the value of its dollar is steadily rising.

On the back of today's RBA news the value of the Australian dollar soared against most major currencies. This morning the dollar is worth almost 89 US cents. Meanwhile the British pound plunged in value and is now buying A$1.77. Regular readers of this blog will recall that we were getting A$2.58 for the same pound this time last year (as the chart above shows all to painfully). It's hard to fathom that money we earn in London is now worth one third less than it was a year ago.

Garry and I regularly transfer money to pay our Australian mortgage so the pound's plunging value definitely hurts. However, on a slightly more positive note, later this month Garry and I pass a critical milestone with our mortgage. We officially repay half of our loan with our next regular payment. It's comforting to know we now own more of our Sydney apartment than the bank does. We'll take our economic good news wherever we can find it.

UPDATE - October 8
Today the Australian dollar climbed to its strongest level against the British pound since May 1985. One pound is now buying less than A$1.75. Where has all our money gone?

FURTHER UPDATE - October 13
The forex fell to A$1.71 this morning. I nearly wept.

Cold kakapo memories

It’s cold tonight. I’ve even put on a sweatshirt - a first for the season. This evening's temperature has already dropped to 15°C, heading for an overnight low of 11°C. Even this is rather balmy compared to last night when temperatures fell in single figures. I’m sure we’ll have the central heating permanently on within weeks.

As the weather turns cooler I’m reminded of my childhood. Like most homes in New Zealand we never had central heating. My bedroom was cold at night, warmed only by a faithful electric blanket. Even worse, my winter school uniform always consisted of woolen shorts and long woolen socks. I recall more than one morning walking to school across playing fields covered in a deep, crisp layer of heavy white frost. As a result, New Zealand winters seemed to last forever.

Ok - it's my cub scout uniform - but you get the picture

Of course, not all of my New Zealand memories are so gloomy as the BBC reminded me earlier tonight. Garry and I were watching British comedian, Stephen Fry, and naturalist, Mark Carwardine, trekking through damp and cold New Zealand bush as part of the documentary series, Last Chance to See. This evening Stephen and Mark went in search of the Kakapo, a large, iridescent green, flightless parrot. It was considered all but extinct until 1973 when 18 males were found in a remote, rugged valley on the southwest coast of New Zealand's South Isaland.

The BBC also broadcast footage of the Chatham Island Robin this evening. This small black bird was once the world’s rarest animal. In 1979 there were only five still alive, four males and one breeding female called Old Blue. As a result, throughout my teenage years, the Chatham Island Robin was the poster child of New Zealand’s conservation movement. I even wrote a poem about this bird that was published in the local newspaper. Incredibly, three decades later, more than 200 birds are now thriving on Little Mangere Island – each a descendant of Old Blue and her offspring.

The Kakapo's fate has been equally progressive. In 1980, the first female bird seen in more than 70 years was found on Steward Island. This sighting led to the discovery of a colony of more than 200 birds on island. However, soon after feral cats began destroying this final population and by 1995 numbers had dwindled to just 51.

Fast forward 24 years and, incredibly, 125 birds are now alive – all on Whenua Hou (Codfish) Island and Anchor island off the coast of Steward Island. Their numbers were further boosted this year by the arrival of an unprecedented 34 chicks. We learnt tonight that the birds only breed if more than 11% of neighbouring Rimu trees are in flower. The birds love their seeds. In 2009 more than 34% of the local trees flowered leading to a bumper breeding season. The numbers were so large that twenty-one chicks were moved to Invercargill and hand-reared by scientists.

Last Chance to See certainly kept Garry and I captivated this evening. We marveled at the beauty of the majestic Kakapo and the stunning scenery of Fiordland’s remote, rugged valleys. We both noted how much these southern valleys reminded us of the equally scenic Na Pali Coast of Kauai in Hawaii (above). I was also reminded once again of New Zealand’s unique beauty and just how fortunate I was to be raised in such a beautiful nation.

What's on your mind?

Wordle is fun software application that you can use to generate word clouds. These are simply images created from words entered into the software. The more popular a word, the larger it'll appear in the final cloud. While its all good fun, it does hint at what's really on your mind, or the real messages in otherwise harmless text. Here you can see the current home page for The Swiss Cottage. I'm clearly talking about Garry as much as do I about Australia and London. Our travel adventures also rank well. However, it's "next year" that's becoming a big theme. This makes sense. Our work permits end late-2010 ans so we have plenty to consider.

I then ran the first six months of this blog through Wordle to see what trends were dominant in 2006. As you'd expect, words like, "new", "first time" and "London" featured regularly. Garry also gets a big mention. When you read these old posts you see how busy he was getting our new UK home set up, while also looking for work. Travel related words were also not particularly common back then. With Garry out of work we'd yet to establish a pattern of weekend excursions in Europe.

Friday Follies

This evening Garry and saw La Cage aux Folles at the Playhouse Theatre. The venue was ideal for story about transvestite French showgirls. It's a remarkably small, and ornate (read, faux gilded), Victorian theatre near the Thames riverbank. We laughed our way through more than two and half hours of high-camp humour and OTT drag performances.

John Barrowman clearly had a ball playing the role of Albin, the the aging drag queen diva. At one point, during one of Albin's more melodramatic moments, he had to stiffle a large chuckle much to the audience's delight. However, it was John's singing voice that really made the evening. I had no idea he could sing so well. He absolutely nailed Jerry Herman's iconic song, "I am what I am". Believe me, this song isn't one for amateurs! Snce 1983 it's been re-recorded by many of the world's most popular divas including Shirley Bassey and Gloria Gaynor.

I did feel a little sorry for Simon Burke. Throughout the performance the crowd was clearly focused on John - an actor most familiar to a British audience. This rather awkward side-lining continued afterwards in the foyer as John and the cast collected donations for the Macmillan Cancer Support Foundation. However, I did see a few familar faces from Sydney in the departing mob so clearly Simon had his own Australian fan base in town.

Expanding roof lines

The family renovations are drawing to a close in New Zealand. I spoke to my mother this morning. Her and Dad moved back into their expanded home last week. The final details are still being attended to such as; having the phone reconnected, installing a door on the shower, connecting external drain pipes to the roof gutters and installing the kitchen bench. It sounds as if the last of the these items will be completed next week with the installation of the bench. My baby brother also moves back into his equally expanded home next week.

Meanwhile, here in London, we've had a decorator in the house repairing water damage caused by a year of roof leaks. You may recall that over Summer we had scaffolding rising up the front of the house as workmen repaired a growing water leak in our spare bedroom. This was the last of two leaks we endured through much of 2008. While these old Victorian buildings look attractive, they're certainly expensive to maintain. I'm pleased to report that we finally have no leaking roof and no visible water damage. Long may it last!

The end is nigh

It’s time for me to get off the fence. I admit that Summer is officially over. There no point pretending otherwise as today is the autumn equinox. This basically means we enjoyed exactly 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of darkness over the last 24 hours. In fact it's almost dark by the time I get home from work these days. Fortunately, the weather has remained relatively warm (by English standards) with temperatures hovering around 20°C most days. I even joined colleagues for an alfresco lunch in the garden bar of a local pub today.

Daylight isn't the only thing that's rapidly diminishing at the moment. This week the Pound Sterling has weakened against major currencies once again. £1.00 is currently buying only A$1.87. This time last year we were briefly getting A$2.67. It's hard to believe the same currency is now worth 80 Australian cents, or 30% less in a single year.

The dramatic decline in the value of the pound really highlights the rather dire state of the UK economy. The message is hammered home by a story out today about Britain's EU budget contribution. Each member state makes a budget contribution on the size of its economy. The budget typically remains stable from year to year, while the contributions vary between countries. In 2008 Britan contributed €844 million to budget, down from €4.16 billion the year before. It's not exactly a ringing endorsement of the UK economy.

Given this situation the dominant news story right now is a noisy debate over the size and scale of public sector spending cuts required to get the nation's ballooning budget deficit back under control. As the Government bails out banks and pumps stimulus spending into the national economy its overall debt has grown by £172 billion in a year The national debt now stands at £804.8 billion, or 57.5% of GDP.

A couple of months ago, the Institute for Fiscal Studies, estimated that the government will have to reduce spending, or increase taxes, by £90 billion over the next decade to bring down the deficit. This equals £2,840 for each family annually by 2017-18. Furthermore, analysts estimate that if the Government wants to protect health and education spending, cuts by other public sector departments will need to exceed 13%. Of course none of these cuts are likely to happen before the next General Election (which must take place before June 4 next year). As a result, I can see the Summer of 2010 remembered for its bitter public sector strikes and deteriorating public services.

Keeping ourselves busy

Two weeks from now Garry and I will celebrate the fourth anniversary of our departure from Australia, followed eight weeks later by the fourth anniversary of our arrival in London. It’s hard to believe that our fifth year in the North Hemisphere is almost upon us. This also means we'll soon be entering the final 12 months of our current work permits. We clearly have some serious decisions to make in the year ahead. Should we renew the lease at Swiss Cottage? Should we stay in the UK beyond 2010? As I said to Garry recently, if we stay another year, we’ll probably want to stay a further six months beyond 2011 and enjoy Olympic Games.

Meanwhile, we’ve plenty to keep us busy for the next couple of months. Next Friday we’re off to see La Cages aux Folles. This was actually the first Broadway musical I ever saw live. I saw it in November 1983 as an exchange student on a school trip to New York city. Ironically, the following day, I’ll be off to New York for a week on business.

I wonder how well La Cages aux Folles has stood the test of time? The current West End production should hold its own as it includes two of my favourite actors; Simon Burke and John Barrowman. Simon starred in Phantom of the Opera and is recognized by many young Australians as a former Playschool television host. John is well known in the UK as the star of a popular Dr Who spin-off called Torchwood.

In mid-October Garry and I then fly to Dubrovnik for a long weekend. Late November has me scheduled to be back in China for business. Early-December is another round-the-world trip for both business and pleasure; taking in California and Australia for work, New Zealand for an early Christmas with the family. Garry and I will finally round out 2009 with a Christmas/New Year vacation in South Africa. Plenty more photos and blog post to look forward to!

By the time we ring in the New Year I’ll have completed at least 59 separate flights this year. Along the way I’ll have flown around the world twice, visiting every continent except South America and Antarctica. Somehow 2009 turned into a year of particularly heavy travel. Next year won’t be any quieter. We already have flights booked to Sweden, Greece, Canada, the USA and Australia. We’re certainly getting plenty fo mileage out our annual round-the-world tickets. I'm sure this jet-setting life will come to a sudden stop when we finally return to Australia.

Wet, wet, wet

Yesterday’s appalling weather was a timely reminder that Summer is over in London. Heavy rainstorms and brisk winds battered the city through out the day. Farnborough, on the southern fringe of London, reported more than 57mm of rain in 24 hours. I’ve also seen reports that September’s rainfall hit 82% of the monthly average yesterday, with half a month yet to come. I can honestly say I can’t recall seeing such persistent, intense wet weather for some time.

Having just returned from six weeks of hot, humid and essentially moisture-free weather in Asia, London’s rain was a shock to the system. I’d forgotten how to use an umbrella. Equally disconcerting has been the unexpected sight of trees changing colour as cooler weather sets in. I can’t recall the autumn colours appearing so early. Perhaps they have but I’ve not had an opportunity to compare their arrival with the scene in Asia. There was certainly no hint of autumn colour in Tokyo and Hong Kong.

At one point Asia’s sweaty, sticky Summer conditions actually lead to disappointment. As I flew out of Tokyo, our route took us directly over Mount Fiji. In all my years of flying out of Tokyo, I’ve only once seen Mount Fiji as the postcards show it. Smog or cloud usually masks it or I’m departing after dark. I was looking forward to seeing Japan’s iconic snow-capped peak in all its glory. Sadly, the mountain was bare. The first of the Autumn snow has yet to fall.


Flying out of Japan again reminded me of a night flight I once made from Tokyo. My seat was by the emergency exit. As I boarded I was greeted by several engineers trying in vain to close the door in front of me. After considerable debate, man-handling and the full weight of two men thrown against it, the door was closed and the flight cleared for departure. However, as the plane sped down the runway, I was stunned to hear the sound of wind wistling around the door frame. Of course, once the cabin was pressurised the door sealed seamlessly and flight continued without incident. It's probably the only time I've ever wondered if this was to be my last, fatal flight.

However, another flight will remain forever top of mind. On my way back to London I had an opportunity to finally experience the Airbus A380. The aircraft looked and felt as new as you'd expect. The interior is surprisingly spacious, the cabin remarkably quiet and Qantas has done a magnificant job upgrading its product to match. The grand staircase at the front of the plane alone is an incredibly impressive entrance. You feel like you've walked into a luxury apartment rather than a flying machine. Much to Garry's amusement I confess that I walked the full length of aircraft's twin floors. It's big!

The Samurai's garden

My company booked me into the New Otani Hotel during a recent trip to Tokyo. I've never stayed there and wasn't sure what to expect. Online the complex appeared large and sprawling, boasting 643 rooms in three high-rise towers. I assumed the worse - a sterile, slightly aging establishment. Reality proved me wrong.


The hotel actually sits on the site of a former Samurai castle. More than four centuries ago, Kiyomasa Kato (1562-1611), ruled much of the surrounding area from here. Towards the end of his tenure the castle grounds were landscaped into a classic Japanese garden. More than ten acres of land were transformed into a series of ponds, waterfalls and immaculately manicured gardens. At the time the garden was for his exclusive use and thus remained largely hidden from view.


Incredibly, the grounds have been carefully maintained by each successive owner until they were finally sold to a hotel developer last century. The sale was made on the condition that the garden be preserved. As a result, hotel guests and visitors can still stroll through a stunning landscape of more than 800 mature trees and natural beauty. A number of elegant stone lantern dot the landscape, some date back to the garden's creation, while others have been relocated from even older garden. The oldest lantern is almost 700 years old. The end result is a true oasis in the midst of a large and sprawling metropolis.

Matsushima

In 1643 a Confucian scholar, Shunsai Hayashi, published a list of Japan’s three most scenic locations. This list, called Nihon Sankei, drew on his years of travelling by foot around the nation. More than three hundred years later these idyllic beauty spots remain among the nation’s most popular tourist destinations.

I’ve visited the first of these, Miyajima, an island near Hiroshima on two occasions. Its floating crimson torii gate is one of Japan’s iconic postcard images. The second location, Matsushima, is a small bay in Northern Honshu ringed by pine-clad sandstone islands; while the third, Amanohashidate, is a narrow pine tree clad sand bar on the Western coast of Honshu. As of last weekend I can now tick Matsushima off my own list.


The name Matsushima literally means pine-clad islands – and this is exactly what you encounter. More than 260 picturesque pine-covered islands dot Matsushima Bay. Some are barely large enough to support a single mature tree; others are the size of a small village. Most are ringed by a rocky wall of white, sun-bleached sandstone, often carved into elegant shapes by relentless wind and wave action. Some even have small arches carved through their midst. All in all, as you walk along the shore or glide by in a boat, the changing perspectives are truly memorizing .


Everyone that visits Matsushima inevitably takes a boat cruise around some of the bay’s most famous islands. I followed the advice of several travel guides and caught a boat from Shiogama, at the southern end of the bay. From here a leisurely 50-minute route took us slowly past some of the most perfect little islets I’ve ever seen. At times the bay took on the appearance of a giant, landscaped pond. Needless to say my camera worked overtime.


Once ashore I spent the day visiting Zuiganji, the elegant tree-cluttered Zen temple, and several islands reached on foot via the most iconic red bridges you’ve ever seen. This included Godaido, a small island that’s home to a simple wooden Buddhist worship hall, and Oshima, an island dotted by decaying Buddhist memorial tablets. The most famous of these stone tablets sits in the middle of the island, inscribed with a poem by Basho, one Edo Japan’s most famous haiku poets. Legend has it that Matsushima’s beauty left him speechless, so much so that he simply wrote afterwards; “Matsushima, Ah! Matsushima! Matsushima!”


Perhaps the most memorable island I visited was Fukuurajima. A gently curving 252-metre long bridge connects this large island to the mainland, while the island itself is crossed by paths leading to numerous scenic lookouts. I spent more than an hour wandering the island soaking in the view. At times the unexpected sight of yet more picture-perfect islands was truly breath-taking.


Matsushima really is nature at its best. Even the persistent, distant buzz of cruise boat plying the bay couldn’t dampen the experience – and believe me – they are relentless in their pursuit of the tourist dollar. I was lucky enough to enjoy it all in hot, sunny weather, framed by a blue sky and the occassional fluffy, white cloud. Magic!

375km north of Tokyo

I've just returned from a day-trip to Matsushima. This is a pictureque bay of pine-clad sandstone islands in Northern Honshu, considered one of Japan's three most scenic locations. Thanks to the magic of the Shinkansen high-speed train its possible to visit Matsushima from Tokyo, a distance of 375kms. More details on my day in the sun tomorrow.

I love the night life

This evening I took several staff members out for drinks in Hong Kong. We stopped in at Azure, a hotel complex located in the LKF Tower. At the top of the building sits Slash Bar. On the 3oth floor a small outdoor deck offers patrons a truly stunning panoramic view of the city skyline. Unfortunately my new-found mission to introduce the world's bar staff on the joys of Ginger Caprioskas hit a road block. Despite being one of the hippest bars in town, fresh ginger wasn't available and my ambitions were soon thwarted.