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After 30 years of keeping me fashionably late, my Golana watch has finally resigned. As if pining for a time when there were more hours in the day, it tells me it's brunchtime when people are heading back to their desks; it's ready to wine and dine when I should be hitting the hay. This tiny little watch - about the diameter of an Australian 5 cent piece - was the object of my desire for months, until I finally broke down and bought it with my very first paycheck: $A247. $247 was a lot to blow in one go, let alone on a watch. It felt like $1500 feels like now. I remember gazing at it through a plate glass window in Canberra, Australia, when I was 17 years old. The store, called Gold and Silver (I think),  jutted out from a very desirable little enclave of shops called Centerpoint, overlooking a pedestrian plaza. It was an exclusive little mall, selling fancy clothes by Aussie fashion icons like Nadjee menswear, Cue, and probably the best frozen yoghurt fruit salad I ...

I was delighted to receive a visit from a gal I met in a cave in 2004. Does that sounds mysterious? I was crossing the Yucatan on my bicycle - a hot, dusty and dehydrating affair. I met Patricia Soto in a cave somewhere in the middle. We walked and talked and ate. She also rides bikes, making her an anomaly among chicas en Mexico. Sometime later did suffer from dehydration. I suspect is was not eating enough, rather than not enough water - food provides salts and eletrolytes the body needs in extreme heat.  I barely made it across to Tulum, and called her. She let me to recuperate in her house Cancun, drinking Pedialyte. Visiting Patricia and her mother in her native Cancun If you have ever gotten dehydrated, you'll know it's not fun. You ache from the middle of your brain to your big toe. Nor is it easy to fix just by drowning yourself in large vats of water or electrolyte solution. It takes time. Meanwhile you feel like utter crap. You can read about ...

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. I managed to rustle up a table of four to do turkey at the Standard Grill . It was OK for the price, considering it was Thanksgiving, New York City, last minute etc, although it was a bit mean on the sides, and the best dark meat was clearly spirited away for a more worthy class of diner. I jested with all my friends who had free invitations to eat  with families that only the friendless gotta pay! Walking around afterwards at Times Square - for want of nothing better to do - I came across the Charmin toilet man. This is a man dressed up as a toilet, inviting you to ablute in sanitary style at their pop-up toilet facility. He is accompanied by a pom pom girl, dressed far less imaginatively than she could be for such an important job - come on Charmin, don't tell me your political correctness prevented her from wearing a skimpy maid's uniform and wielding a toilet brush? This Charmin effort was all new to me, but Google tells me it's been a...

  Above: The view from the Standard Hotel's elevator - one you don't mind being stuck in The  Standard Hotel  - a shingle as chicly understated as the building is understatedly chic - has opened its lounge in the stratosphere. Straddling the wildly popular Highline aerial park, which I  filmed  just before it opened, this Polshek-designed, Andre Balazs-owned inn reminds of the Jolly Gray Giant.  I don't even know what the latest name of the lounge is - Manifest? Boom Boom ... Boom? The celebs have christened it of course, but this post is for us plebestrians who pass between the Giant's gray chino'd thighs, peering crotchward to see if those  mile high performances  are just a myth (here's another punny headline to add to the mix: Motel Sex - boom boom). You enter the hotel through a Lego-like yellow cylinder and reappear in a small lobby flanked by two very cool, white egg-crate like partitions. The maid in me wonders if someone is hired to feath...

Exquisitely excessive packaging at Tayashimaya in Japan and Singapore. A ball of rice is presented like a jewel; a cake resembles an architectural sculpture. You know how you come back from some exotic place, and all you want to do is keep prolonging the experience, eating the same foreign food for as long as possible, mincing around in your sari or kimono or toga, playing Pavarotti or koto music while ordering papardelle con ragu for breakfast and a bento box for dinner? Well, as I wrote in my Cheap'n'Choosy blog , today I made a beeline for Takashimaya , a Japanese department store in New York I'd roundly ignored prior to my recent 5 weeks in Singapore and Japan . I'd already cased out Pearl River and Sunrise Japanese grocery on landing, despite putting my back out in Tokyo, discovering that most of what I'd lugged home is readily available here in NYC. There is generally nothing in department stores that I really want, especially ones like Henri Bendels ...

Last post I wrote something "a society with a fascination with the minutiae of life is one you will never cease discovering." This is one example of minutiae. I found this miniaturized "curry rice meal" at Kid Robot in Soho, NY, day after getting back from my 3 week Japan trip. Oh how I wish I'd made it to geek central, Akihibara , where you can find wierd stuff like this and more. That's a definite for next time. It struck a chord because I learned curry rice is a staple of Japanese urban families - basically a just-add-water flavor cube of riotously tasty curry paste, that you team with veges, meat and rice in no time flat. I ate this at Richard and Haruyo's house in Nagoya. And on the United flight coming over. The little red pot has a real wooden knob. The lid fits perfectly and has a certain weight to it despite this whole thing being about an inch diameter. The ladle 'scoops' the curry nicely. You can remove the ladle from the sco...

UPDATE: Yoga really works!  Some exercises to fix your back Right: What I need right now ... the Yamaha-owned onsen Tsumagoi (means "Love your Wife") in Kakegawa. Those are my green-tea-soaked tootsies about 2 weeks ago ... ... AND I don't mean pickpockets, hijackers, or even Bangkok tailor-made shirt touts (the best in the world - the touts, not the shirts, which fall apart after 2 washes). I mean: look after your back when dragging suitcases, sleeping in hostels, stepping off strange and uneven curbs (kerbs downunder), and yes, biking around like I've been doing for 5 weeks. After 2 weeks customer evangelizing in Singapore and another 3 in Japan , I'm reporting to you flat on my back, after putting it out on my last day in Tokyo. I was simply folding a blanket and when POW! A sharp, throbbing pain above my left hip. Somehow, I managed to get back to NYC - bracing myself and dragging two bags and a small backpack through Tokyo's train and airport ...

More Japan on a Friday stories After 3 amazing weeks of work and play in this country, it's time to leave. There's just too much more to see. A society with a fascination with the minutiae of life is one you will never cease discovering. Like the charred log that plays ambient sounds that I only read about in my guidebook, but didn't quite make it to that area - Akhihabira, electronic geek central. I got together with some BF Club of Japan folks for a Hokkaido-style meal just before I left. It was also the occasion to hand over my Princess Pink tikit to the new owner, Ray-san - a great deal for her considering the strong state of the yen against the tanking dollar. Adam Clark rode his Pocket Rocket all the way from Yokohama (1 hour) and Taniguchi-san and his wife KimLee trained it 1 hour from Seitama, north of Tokyo. The meal, at a local Gotojuki station restaurant called Raku, was a delicious and curious combination of potatoes, fish and salad - like Tokyo meets Idaho - ...

More Japan on a Friday stories Today - the last day of my 7 day rail pass. I'm 500+ miles from Tokyo but the Shinkansen will get me back Tokyo in just over 3 hours. Figure the math! I keft Fukuoka stopping by Hiroshima to retrieve my wallet, as explained in the previous post. Because I had just a few yen I could not buy the many Kyushu treats I fell in love with overnight. Like the handmade ramen to go, and a wonderful sweet called Caramel Manchu by these folks. Akaifusen . When I go anywere in Japan asking for it, including in Tokyo, they say 'only in Kyushu'. Drat! But there's something nice about exclusive regional foods. You can zip around on the Shinkansen knowing that gifts you bring will be doubly appreciated. Then onto to Himeji, home of Japan's most visited castle, Himeji-jo . I did not have time to tour this monolithic wedding-cake, but there is something about simply riding your bike past such a famous spot and rubbernecking like everyone else. ...

Myajima - one of the most Kodak'd moments in Japan.  The incredible Good Samaritan Asako More Japan on a Friday stories I know when it's time to wind down a trip. I start making mistakes.  Today, I left my wallet beside one of the computers at the hostel in Hiroshima. I was so pleased with myself at a) wringing the last possible bit of mileage out of my 7-day railpass by jumping on a train to Kyushu, Japan's most western province and home of the Ramen Stadium, b) arriving at the Khaosan Hostel by the rather early check-in time of 8.30am, and c) planning to inhale a bowl of the famous Fukuoka ramen.  Then - just as I was went to pay for some local goodies at Hakarta Station aka Fukuoka, the farthest point you can reach by Shinkansen on the JR Rail Pass - I discovered my goof. My wallet was sitting back in Hiroshima, beside a computer in the hostel internet cafe. I hoped.  I've learned that when the s*** hits the fan, you take things one step at a time:  I got to ...

More Japan on a Friday stories Obamajority - that's what the mayor of Hiroshima wrote of his denizens in a peace letter addressed to all nations that still insist on stockpiling nuclear weapons.　I souvenired several copies of this letter, stamped with an official Hiroshima Peace Museum logo, to gift to my most vocal peace and Obama-lovin' friends. Obama is yet to visit the Hiroshima Peace Park, according to A-bomb survivors and witnesses like Mito Kosei. Affected by radiation when still in his mother's womb, he outgrew a sickly childhood and now roams the park as a volunteer guide, offering free and informative backstory to the official materals displayed in the museum. "[Aussie Prime Minister] Rudd was the only PM to visit the Peace Park BEFORE he was elected to office, Obama has not," he said. "I think it not easy for him. 60% of Americans still believe dropping the bomb was a good thing. That makes it harder for Obama to visit." He showed me a picture...

More Japan on a Friday stories I've just gotten back after some bad bachelorette behavior, that is, hunting down and scarfing a 10pm okonomiyaki. This is a specialty 'pancake' of Hiroshima fried in front of you on a big flat griddle.　In fact, there's an entire 6th floor of a garish neon-lit building called GAIA PACHINKO right opposite the station, dedicated to this glorified Japanese bubble'n'squeak (google that term if you aren't from the British Commonwealth). The okonomiyaki stall I chose at random was called 'HOPE'. Because the place is frequented by tourists, the young owner said he thought an English sounding word would float them to the top of the passing selection panel. He asked if Australians ate koala sashimi. I suggested that since all the stands were offering practically the same thing for the same price, he could try advertising kangaroo to distinguish himself in a less obtuse fashion. But what would I know? They do a roaring trade ...

More Japan on a Friday stories Despite big plans to maximize my spendy 7 day Japan rail pass and hop all over the country, the allure of Kyoto was too great. I opted for the hostel-recommended walking instead. First, breakfast. Feeling sure I could better the hostel 680 yen offering, I traipsed around the block looking for a Japanese breakfast. It does not exist except in the form of extremely expensive coffee and some basic white toast. I returned to the hostel and sheepishly took my place among the other gai-jins scarfing the unlimited eggs, sausage, toast, jelly, coffee tea, salad , cheese, cereal, yoghurt... no wonder Ks Hostel won an award. What was meant to be a half day tour ended up a day and night half of a tour, because I was held hostage by soaring temples and shops selling all kinds of Japanese souvenirs. The mochi shops were making a killing. People love to crunch and chew things and mochi satisfies the latter - it's like a stressball for your jawbone. I ate mor...

More Japan on a Friday stories Well, not yet, but soon. My 6 dorm-mates at K's Hostel are sound asleep and I don't want to rummage in my stuff for the third time to get out my SD card reader. Today started out in a most inauspicious fashion. I left the Bickel's idyllic semi rural retreat in Kakegawa and caught the bus across the road to the train station - 20 mins away. I got off at what I thought was the station, but it turned out to be the hospital - two stops too soon. note to self: when you arrive in the dark, things may look different in the cold light of day. Now, this is when I started to realize that Japan is hopelessly difficult when you don't speak the language. The only words I seem to remember reliably are "takai" = expensive, and "yasui" = cheap. I spent a good 20 mins gesticulating with locals, poring through my Lonely Planet Japanese Phrasebook that devotes whole chapters to pick up lines and getting drunk. Eventually they "got...