This is the famous clock tower of the Flinders Street Station (the main train station for suburban trains) in Melbourne.
We were staying in a hotel (The Doubletree) directly opposite to the station and our room overlooked the station and the clock tower. I took photos of it during the day:
and this one, at night. It came out better than I thought it would.
Washington is a city with bright shiny buildings and endless monuments, each separated by a long walk or a taxi ride if you can find one.
We might have picked the wrong day, shortly after New Year’s Day when the crowds were missing along with everything else. Or, conversely, it was probably the right time to go, when we didn’t have to battle the crowds.
Sunny but very cold, the walking warmed us up.
First stop was the Lincoln Memorial
It was built to honor the 16th President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln.
It is located on the western end of the National Mall in Washington, D.C., across from the Washington Monument.
The building is in the form of a Greek Doric temple and contains a large seated sculpture of Abraham Lincoln and inscriptions of two well-known speeches by Lincoln.
The next stop was the Washington Monument
The Washington Monument is an obelisk on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., built to commemorate George Washington. Construction of the monument began in 1848 and not completed until 1888. It was officially opened October 9, 1888.
We then took a taxi ride to the Jefferson Memorial
This monument is dedicated to Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826), one of the most important of the American Founding Fathers as the main drafter and writer of the Declaration of Independence.
Construction of the building began in 1939 and was completed in 1943.
The bronze statue of Jefferson was added in 1947.
That meant we had to make the journey from New York to New Jersey, by train. It involved the underground, or as New Yorkers call it, the subway, from Columbus Circle which by any other name was really, 80th street, to 34th street which apparently was the New Jersey jump-off point for us to get overground, well a lot of it was overground. So, were we going uptown or downtown?
Apparently, it was downtown, and to 34th Street on the A train.
You would not think this to be a difficult task, but for people not used to the subway, and where they were going other than some internet derived instructions, but without the help of a man at the station, just getting tickets may have stopped us dead in our tracks. With his help, we determined the return fare for three of us and then get through the turnstile onto the platform.
We get on the A train, but soon discover it was not stopping at all stations. There was for a few minutes, a little apprehension we might just simply bypass our station. Luckily we did not.
Now, finding your way to the New Jersey transit part of Penn station might appear to be easy, on paper, but once there, on the ground, and mingling with the other passengers which all seemed to be purpose going somewhere, it took a few moments to realize we had to follow the New Jersey transit signs.
This led to a booking hall where luckily we realized we needed to buy more tickets, then find the appropriate platform, and then get on the right train, all of which, in the end, was not difficult at all.
Maybe on the return trip, it might be.
At Newark Penn station it was momentarily confusing because the exit was not readily in sight, so it was a case of following the majority of other passengers who’d got off the train.
This led us to exit onto the street under the train tracks. Luckily, having been before to Prudential Stadium to buy the tickets, we knew what the stadium looked like and roughly where it was, so it was a simple task to walk towards it.
We were early, so it was a case of finding a restaurant to get dinner before the game. So was a great many others, and we passed about 6 different restaurants that looked full to overflowing before we stopped at one called Novelty Burger and Bar.
It looked inviting, and it was not crowded.
It was yet another excuse to have a hamburger and beer, both of which seemed to be a specialty in American. I could not fault either.
And soon after we arrived, this restaurant too was full to overflowing. Thankfully there were other Maple Leaf fans there because being in a room full of opposition teams supports can be quite harrowing.
That was yet to come when we finally got to the stadium. I was not expecting a lot of Maple Leaf fans.
We went to this game with high hopes. New Jersey Devils were not exactly at the top of the leader board, and coming off the loss in Toronto, this was make or break for whether we would ever go to another game.
It’s remarkable in that all the Ice Hockey stadiums are the same. Everyone has an excellent view of the game, the sound systems are loud, and the fans passionate. Here it seems to be a thing to ride on the Zambonis.
At the front door they were handing out figurines of a Devil’s past player, and it seems a thing that you get a handout of some sort at each game. At Toronto we got towels. And, finally, we were in luck.
The Maple Leafs won.
And it was an odd feeling to know that even though their team lost, there did not seem to be any rancor amount the fans and that any expectation of being assaulted by losing fans was totally unfounded, unlike some sporting events I’ve been to.
Perhaps soccer should take a leaf out of the ice hockey playbook.
That also went for taking public transport late at night. I did not have any fears about doing so, which is more than I can say about traveling at night on our own transport system back home.
Oh, and by the way, there are train conductors who still come to every passenger to collect or stamp their tickets. No trusting the passenger has paid for his trip here. And, if you don’t have a ticket, I have it on good authority they throw you off the train and into the swamp. Good thing then, we had tickets.
It was, all in all, a really great day.
And probably would be, if I was away on holidays in Europe, simply because I’ve always wanted to be in Belgium on a Tuesday just so I could use that line. Not going to happen while COVID 19 is with us.
By the way, that line is out of a movie, but I’m not sure which one. Obviously, it wasn’t that great if I can’t remember it.
But…
Searching for locations for my stories takes a lot of time and effort, using Google Earth and other means like street view. Finding houses, or apartments required a great deal of real estate research, almost to the point of buying a property.
Is there any better way to see the street it’s in, the neighbors, the neighborhood, and inside the house and gardens. Almost as if you lived there, which of course you do in the story.
In reality, this time two years ago we were in Canada on the trans-Canada highway heading towards Banff, on icy roads in winter. Yes, that’s where we were, getting a feel for the place, the roads, the weather, the people, and the places.
Cold, yes. Atmospheric, yes, exciting, double yes. Sometimes research is really fun, well, I don’t call it that, otherwise everyone else will think it was not the birthday treat that it was meant to be.
And was.
My wife’s 65th birthday was one she certainly will never forget.
So…
Lamentably, it’s hot and wet, the archetypal Brisbane summer, making the air conditioner work overtime.
I can only dream about being in Belgium, one way having a glass of beer from there.
It’s as close as I’m going to get, to there, Amsterdam, Munich, Berlin, and perhaps Budapest.
We were in London in Summer, it was a fine afternoon, going into the evening and we decided to get on the London Eye. As you can see from the clock it was near 7:00 pm.
This photo was taken as we were coming down.
Those long evenings were quite remarkable, not in the least going to a pub and sinking a few pints! There was one such pub not far from Charing Cross Station
The pub was called ‘The Princess of Wales’
And still be light enough to find your way home.
I just watched America ring in the new year.
15 hours after we did here in Brisbane. It was, if anything, a non event. Covid put paid to anything as lavish as it had been in the past. It reminded me of thetwo times we were in New York for New Year’s Eve and the first time we couldn’t get near tTimes Square, and saw the ball drop in Central Park, and the second, in a Times Square hotel not far from the action.
This year we saw it on TV. Oh, hang on, the TV coverage didn’t cover the ball drop. What the?
But not to put too fnei a point to it, I didn’t really miss it. Notthere, and not here.
Any other year? Perhaps.
Two years ago we were in Lake Louise in Canada, and it was amazing to say the least. The Fairmont hotel had been setting up for it all day, right down to watching a hoard of staff trying to put together the portable dance floor, and later, when exiting the restaurant, watching the crowded hoards dancing to their own music. Or so it appeared.
We dined in the restarant, and it was a magic night of dining, in a magical setting.
Just saying that I don’t think that New Years Eve will be topped in what might be the rest of my lifetime.
This year, nothing. I was up writing, and on the dot of midnight there was 15 seconds of fireworks.
We usually watch Sydney’s New Year’s Eve party and the fifteen to twenty minutes of fireworks after, but Covid put paid to that too.
Ten or so years ago, when imbibed with more enthusiasm, we went to a club on the border between Queensland and New South Wales where one had daylight saving and the other didn’t. It was fun to celebrate New Year’s Eve twice, but not when we went back to the motel and discovered, after a rain deluge, all our rooms had sprung leaks and everything was wet.
The days of those adventures are more.
I’ve got used to staying in five and six star accommodation, but now we have retired and the income doesn’t match the lifestyle we used to have.
And with Covid always lurking in those dark corners waiting to pounce when least expected, I’m guessing my 2021 will be much the same as 2020, in isolation until we get a vaccine and the idiots finally realise they’re dicing with death, ours not theirs.
Still, it could be worse.
But, despire the glass half empty attitude, I hope everyone else has a happy new year and a much better 2021.
All the worries we thought we might have in getting from Lake Louise to Calgary, in the end, it was just like driving to work, only a little longer.
When we left the Fairmont, the car had two frozen bottles of water and a frozen donut, left in the car for the two days we were there, so hiding in the garage might not be a good idea.
At the garage where we refueled, it was so cold I could barely clean the windows and glad to get back into the warmth inside the car.
Thankfully as we got closer to Calgary, it got warmer.
We bypass the city going to the airport, but, as it turns out, we would not have had much time to look around anyway.It’s nice to go to an airport and actually find the car rental returns first go with adequate signing to get there.
Returning the car took a few extra minutes because we were at the end of a dozen or so others who turned up at the same time. All good, they remembered giving us a half full petrol tank.
At the check-in, it is very smooth sailing, the kiosk working and once the booking reference was entered, it spat out the desired number of boarding passes and baggage tags.
Then to baggage drop, through customs where I managed to lose my jacket, which is amazing that you would be allowed to leave anything behind.
So…
We have an hour and a half to kill, so a long soda and two long island teas settle the pre-flight nerves if we had any to start with.
Time to consider the vagaries of the flight.
Today we’re on an Airbus a320, and we are seated in the very last row, row 33. It’s always a bad thing to look up planes on seatguru.com, because it has painted them as the worst on the plane.
What’s the downside, sometimes the seat pitch is less than further up the plane, the seats don’t recline and you get the seat in front in your face, and you get the constant flushing of the toilets. And my major bugbear there’s no overhead luggage space.
What’s the reality?
To begin with, the seats recline, but not very much. We’ll wait till the plane is cruising before judging how far the seats recline in front of us.
The seat pitch is good and it doesn’t feel like were cramped into a small space, but again this is relative to what happens with the seat in front.
Overhead baggage space, none whatsoever, so if you don’t get on first you are basically screwed. We were almost first to the rear of the plane so I suspect others also know about the lack of overhead bin space.
Being at the read most part of the plane affords you a view of how the baggage handlers treat your baggage, and it’s interesting, to say the least. They smile a lot, so I suspect that a few bags might get the ‘treatment’.
Enough already.
We’re now backing out of the bay ready to leave.
We’re getting endless announcements in foreign languages so when next I fly with Air Canada I should at least learn French.
Or not…
Ah, the smell of kerosene floods our end of the plane. So much for air quality, which so it happens is being covered in the safety video at the exact same time.
But as it turned out, the flight was uneventful.
This morning started with a visit to the car rental place in Vancouver. It reinforced the notion that you can be given the address and still not find the place. It happened in Washington where it was hiding in the back of the main railway station, and it happened again in Vancouver when it was hidden inside a hotel.
We simply walked straight past it. Pity there wasn’t a sign to let people know.
However…
We went in expecting a Grand Jeep Cherokee and walked out with a Ford Flex, suitable for three people and four large suitcases. It actually seats 7, but forget the baggage, you’d be lucky to get two large suitcases in that configuration.
It is more than adequate for our requirements.
Things to note, it was delivered with just over a quarter of a tank of gas, and it had only done about 11,000 km, so it’s relatively new. It’s reasonably spacious, and when the extra seats are folded down, there is plenty of baggage space.
So far, so good.
We finally leave the hotel at about half-past ten, and it is raining. It is a simple task to get on Highway 1, the TransCanada Highway, initially, and then onto Highway 5, the Coquihalla Highway for the trip to Kamloops.
It rains all the way to the top of the mountain, progress hampered from time to time by water sprays from both vehicles and trucks. The rain is relentless. At the top of the mountain, the rain turns into snow and the road surface to slush. It’s 0 degrees, but being the afternoon, I was not expecting it to turn to ice very quickly.
On the other side of the mountain, closer to Kamloops, there was sleet, then rain, then nothing, the last 100kms or so, in reasonably dry conditions.
Outside Kamloops, and in the town itself, there was evidence of snow recently cleared, and slushy roads. Cars in various places were covered in snow, indicating the most recent falls had been the night before.
We’re staying at the Park Hotel, a heritage building, apparently built in the later 1920s. In the style of the time, it is a little like a rabbit warren with passages turning off in a number of directions, and showing it is spread across a number of different buildings.
It has the original Otis elevator that can take a maximum of four passengers, and a sign on the wall that says “no horseplay inside the elevator” which is a rather interesting expression that only someone of my vintage would understand. And, for those without a sense of humor, you definitely couldn’t fit a horse in it to play with.
The thing is, how do you find a balance between keeping the old world charm with modern day expectations. You can’t. Some hotels try valiantly to get that balance. Here, it is simply old world charm, which I guess we should be grateful for because sooner rather than later it’s going to disappear forever.
In my writer’s mind, given the importance of the railways, this was probably a thriving place for travelers and once upon a time, there were a lot more hotels like this one.
Staying at Hampton Inn and Suites downtown, whatever that means because it looks like we are in the middle of nowhere.
But, judging by the crowd in the breakfast room, it’s a popular hotel. Of course, it is Sunday morning so this could be the weekend escape people.
Two things I remember about staying in Hampton Inns is firstly the waffles and whipped butter. It’s been five years but nothing has changed, they are as delicious as ever. The other, its where I discovered vanilla flavored milk for coffee, and it, too, is addictive.
They also used to have flat burgers that were made out of sausage meat which was delicious, but on the first day, they were not on the menu.
Nevertheless, it was still a very yummy breakfast.
After some research into where we might find this pixmi unicorn, it appears that it is available at a ‘toys are us’ store in one of the suburbs of Vancouver. So, resuming the quest, we took a taxi to West Broadway, the street the store is located.
A quick search of the store finds where the toys we’re looking for are, after asking one of the sales staff, and we find there are at least a dozen of them. Apparently, they are not as popular in Canada as the might be in America. Cheaper too, because the exchange rate for Canadian dollars is much better than for American dollars. Still, 70 dollars for a stuffed toy is a lot of money.
We also get some slime, stuff that our middle granddaughter seems to like playing with.
After shopping we set off down West Broadway, the way we had come, looking for a taxi to return us to the hotel. There’s no question of walking back to the hotel.
A few hours later we walk to the observation tower, which was not very far from the hotel,
a place where we could get a 360-degree view of the city of Vancouver although it was very difficult to see any of the old buildings because they were hidden by the newer buildings, nor could we see the distant mountains because of the haze.
After leaving the tower we walked down Water Street to see the steam clock and the old world charm of a cobbled street and old buildings
We stopped at the Spaghetti Factory Italian restaurant for dinner and is so popular that we have to wait, 10 minutes to start with. It doesn’t take all that long to order and have the food delivered to the table. Inside the restaurant, there is an actual cable car but we didn’t get to sit in it.
I have steak, rare, mushrooms, and spaghetti with marinara sauce. No, marinara doesn’t mean seafood sauce but a very tasty tomato-based sauce. The steak was absolutely delicious and extremely tender which made it more difficult to cut with a steak knife.
The write up for the marinara sauce is, ‘it tastes so fresh because it is made directly from vine-ripened tomatoes, not from concentrate, packed within 6 hours of harvest. We combine them with fresh, high-quality ingredients such as caramelised onions, roasted garlic and extra virgin olive oil’.
Oh, and did I mention they have a streetcar right there in the middle of the restaurant
I’m definitely going to try and make this when we get home.
After dinner, we return to the observation tower, the ticket allowing us to go back more than once, and see the sights at night time. I can’t say it was all that spectacular.
Another day has gone, we are heading home tomorrow.
Televison is a great recorder of the past, and most channels, and especially cable tv have great libraries of films that go back more than a hundred years.
And, whilst it’s possible that modern day films and television series can try to recapture the past, the English as an exception being very good at it, often it is impossible to capture it correctly.
But, if you have a film shot in the moment, then you have a visual record of what life, and what was once part of our world before you in all it’s dated glory. The pity of it is that, then, we never appreciated it.
After all, in those particular times, who had the time to figuratively stop and smell the roses. Back then as life was going on, we were all tied up with just trying to get through each day.
Years later, often on reflection, we try to remember the old days, and, maybe, remember some of what it was like, but the chances are that change came far too rapidly, and often too radical, that it erases what we thought we knew existed before.
My grandmothers house is a case in point. In it’s place is a multi lane super highway, and there’s nothing left to remind us, or anyone of it, just some old sepia photographs.
I was reminded of how volatile history really is when watching an old documentary, in black and white, and how the city I grew up in used to look.
Then, even though it seemed large to me then, it was a smaller city, with suburbs that stretched about ten or so miles in every direction, and the outer suburbs were where people moved to get a larger block, and countrified atmosphere.
Now, those outer suburbs are no longer spacious properties, the acreage subdivided and the old owners now much richer for a decision made with profit not being the motivator, and the current suburban sprawl is now out to forty or fifty miles.
The reason for the distance is no longer the thought of open spaces and cleaner air, the reason for moving now is that land further out is cheaper, and can make buying that first house more affordable.
This is where I tip my hat to the writers of historical fiction. I myself am writing a story based in the 1970s, and its difficult to find what is and isn’t time specific.
If only I had a dollar for every time I went to write the character pulling out his or her mobile phone.
What I’ve found is the necessity to research, and this has amounted to finding old films, documentaries of the day, and a more fascinating source of information, the newspapers of the day.
The latter especially has provoked a lot of memories and a lot of stuff I thought I’d forgotten, some of it by choice, but others that were poignant.
Yes, and don’t get me started on the distractions.
If only I’d started this project earlier…
