There and back

Getting back into the swing of things after a long weekend in California. Highlights: a sunset walk in Oakland's Sibley Volcanic Regional Preserve; frolicking dogs on the shoreline near the Golden Gate Bridge; a meander in Calaveras Big Trees State Park. And, of course, a walk down to "the ranch," our old family property outside Confidence (pictured above). 

Trimmings for the tree

Singapore was awash in Christmas cheer; these three close-ups from trees along Orchard Road are but a small sample of the decorations that dotted the cityscape.

Back in NYC

Back, and a bit woozy from the jet lag, but otherwise none the worse for the wear. Still thinking about all the cool stuff we saw, and wishing we could have seen more. At left, a photo of one of the malls on Orchard Road with a little fisheye lens I affixed to my phone's camera; they're a bit hard to make out, but yes, those plastic bubbles you see are lifesize snow globes featuring Frosty and a reindeer.

School of fish

This fishy fellow at the Singapore Botanic Gardens was looking for a little nibble, but I disappointed him. The gardens also had delightful schools of fish in relief on a number of low walls (below, left); of course, if you'd rather eat the fish than look at them, you can try these fried peanuts with sardines (below, right) at Punggol Nasi Padang on Scotts Road.

Under my umbrella

It's warm, but at around 3, it began to rain, and as we wandered, it refused to relent. Soggy in Singapore!

Fearless Freya

Although I quite love to travel, I've never made a habit of reading travelogues. But, given Sumeet's affection for Patrick Leigh Fermor, Eric Newby, and the like, we don't suffer from a lack of tales of interesting people going interesting places.

One of my grouses has long been the preponderance of male writers in the genre; nothing wrong with men writing about their meanderings, but I like to hear a different perspective from time to time. "Freya Stark?" he suggested, years ago, and I kept her name in the back of my mind but didn't get around to reading anything of hers until today, when I devoured The Journey's Echo: Selected Travel Writings in one sitting.

Stark, born in 1893, became fascinated with One Thousand and One Nights at a young age and learned Arabic and Persian. In World War I, she worked as a nurse in Italy, and then, in the late 1920s, she began the journeys about which she wrote around two dozen books: she ventured to Beirut, Lebanon, western Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, and beyond. 

The Journey's Echo is her last book, and it's something of a mish-mash that pulls together all her earlier writing. It's disjointed, its vignettes akin almost to a highlight reel, and thus perhaps the book is not the best representative of her true talent. But much of it is quietly astonishing; her imagery is breathtaking, and I ended up dog-earing a good third of the pages, so that I can page back, reread, rejoice. She writes about travel, of course, but also about the value of solitude, and the fundamental similarities of people across cultures, and about language (and its uses and abuses).

From my little Queens flat, an extract that reminded me there is much more to be seen (or to marvel over not seeing):

It is lucky to live in a city on a hill and to be saved by the view at one's window from thinking of the world as flat, so that one may see at a glance how all we have in sight slips over some edge into the veils of space.

The BBC has a 30-minute piece on Stark's life, or Jane Fletcher Geniesse's Passionate Nomad: The Life of Freya Stark is said to be good.

The adventures of Tintin as art object

 

The old ball and chain was off doing some work in France, and on one of his days off, he made a jaunt to Belgium. Although I never read Tintin as a kid, Sumeet devoured the stories, and whenever we see a little street-art paean to the plucky young Belgian reporter, we are sure to whip out our cameras like the schlocky tourists we are. I suppose the Tintin love written across Brussels is a consequence of the fictional reporter being a native of Belgium?

Of course, not everyone is apparently a fan:

In the looking glass

Reviewing the more than 900 pictures I took in our six days in Paris, a few prominent subjects emerge: schlocky self-portraits, cemetery ephemera, and street art. Here we are, being goofy, posing in the reflection of a sculpture made up of gigantic mirrored balls that was in a garden not so far from the Louvre.

Travel tips from TWA

You just never know what you're going to find in a thrift store. Today, Sumeet unearthed this gem, a guide to traveling in France, printed in 1956. February, the guide notes, is a good time to travel, as Paris then hosts the "Salon of Housekeeping Arts." Alas, we'll be going half a century too late.

On with the show. First things first: you're going to have to orient yourself. Perhaps this will help?

And I suppose you'll be hungry. "There are reputed to be about 8,000 restaurants in Paris. You can get a good meal in at least half of them," according to TWA. The guide lists dozens of cuisines, including "Cheese" -- my kind of people. I, for one, would also like to visit Hostellerie du Coq Hardy: "Sam, the self-styled 'cuisinier troubadour,' not only serves delicious meals but entertains with an extraordinary act of trained chickens." In case the French doesn't trip off your tongue while at the table:

Once you're sated, you might consider a bit of theatre. The Folies Bergère offers "Nudes and spectacular stage settings."  

Or you could try a little retail therapy: Hermes and Lanvin are highly recommended. Or you could go to E. Goyard Aine, a "specialty shop for pampered dogs ... Rubber bones give cracking sounds, are perfumed with chocolate. For insomniac dogs, felt-covered music boxes."

If that's not enough for you, fussbudget, you might be pleased to know that there are sights to be seen. What, the Eiffel Tower's in Paris?

Oh, who am I kidding; let's just unwind with a nice glass of red. Nothing says class like grumpy stemware.

And ladies, lest all this talk of exchange rates, etc., confuse you, Mary Gordon of TWA to the rescue! She has many tips, most of which relate to shopping. And, oh yes, "Take it easy ... don't sightsee all day. Do whatever local people do for amusement and relaxation." (I think that means more wine!)

Safe travels!

Less than two weeks, now ...

... and we'll be in Paris. Paris! I had planned on being tres chic with a red scarf, a beret, and a baguette in hand at all times, but apparently, those are cliches. Alas!

We still aren't really sure what we'll be doing there -- eating, walking, and taking pictures, inevitably. Perhaps we'll see the Mondrian exhibit at Centre Pompidou? (By the way, have you seen the fractal Mondrian? It is amazing.) Other suggestions?