GALFROMDOWNUNDER UPOVER

  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 featherdust each and

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 Bendel

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

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 - Hokkaidaho? Taniguchi-san (belo

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. For my architect friend I mad

Myajima - one of the most Kodak'd moments in Japan.  The incredible Good Samaritan Asako  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 deadline of 8.30am, and c) availing myself to a bowl of the famous Fukuoka ramen.   Then I discovered my goof - just as I was trying to buy some local looking goodies at Hakarta Station, aka Fukuoka, the farthest point you can reach by Shinkansen on the JR Rail Pass. My wallet was sitting back in Hiroshima, beside a computer in the hostel internet cafe. I hoped.  But I've learned that when the s**** hits the fan, you take things one step at a time:  I got to the hostel in Fuluoka. E