TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 7th APRIL
I was only home briefly and it was time to set off for another ten days in Baku (Azerbaijan). One thing that I hate even more than flying is having to change planes and as my options are Azerbaijan airlines direct or Turkish with a change at Istanbul airport, I booked AZAL. Great news, the outgoing flight economy seats are full so I have to go business class. Not as good as it sounds due to the horrendous seats on this not so dreamy liner. I couldn’t care less how many different colours the interior lighting can produce or the fact that it can fly higher than other passenger aircraft, I would just dearly love a seat that would allow sleep or even dozing. If you strapped a prisoner into one of these seats and prevented him from moving for five hours it would be called cruelty, but what is worse is that I have paid for the privilege. Its against my human rights a prisoner would claim, but of course air travelers especially those in cattle class are not treated like human beings at all
As you step off the plane in Baku you are met by a line of sour faced men in uniforms covered in braid and wearing oversized hats. Hardly a welcoming sight at 0630 in the morning and after a sleepless night in the torture chair. Immigration next and more men walking up and down with ridiculous hats and generally unsmiling girls at the booths. Queue for ages whilst the men in big hats usher various government ministers families ahead of you and eventually my turn to stand on the spot for a photograph and then the long scrutiny of the passport that leaves you wishing they would find a problem so I could get back on the bloody plane and go home. No such luck, flick flick flick through the pages, more stern looks and the passport is stamped with a venomous clunk. It is now time to play the standing hopefully next to a stationary carousel game.
My bag arrives at last and I head out into the stinking air outside. If the wind is blowing in a certain direction the smell of crude oil is very strong and that's how it was that morning. Back to my favourite Boulevard hotel, quick efficient check in but the young man at the desk kept reminding me that breakfast was not included as if it was something highly unusual. I asked him if I could now include breakfast but the best he could do was include a deposit on my credit card for any expenditure during my stay. We settled on $600 which seemed a lot but at least he looked a little less worried.
I dashed off to my room quickly had a shower and as it was only 0830 decided to go down for breakfast before getting a couple of hours sleep. I waited to be seated and gave my room number. A look of great consternation crossed the face of the young hotel uniformed lady. "Sir, breakfast is not included in your booking" she said. " I know but I have left a deposit on my card at reception so I will just sign for it" I replied. "Please wait" she instructed. A man in hotel uniform now called reception and engaged in a long conversation to ensure that I had indeed left a deposit at reception. Having passed the deposit test it was all smiles and I was allowed to head towards the buffet breakfast.
I may well seem to be fixated on breakfasts but this was not a particularly good one. I asked for two fried eggs and they were instantly cracked into a pan with almost no evidence of oil. I was going to ask for him to turn them over as I hate any uncooked white but he beat me to it and put the pan under a grill for exactly the right period of time. Excellent eggs but what the hell did they do to the bacon, streaky bacon so overcooked it could not be cut with a knife, tasteless sausages and cold baked beans. Hey guys you are letting the egg cooking man down.
A different and equally worried looking hotel uniformed man arrived at my table and announced "breakfast is not included with your room" and placed a bill on the table in front of me. I signed, he looked relieved and departed! The same thing occurred each morning except one of my ten day stay. I started to feel guilty. "Oh fuck I am eating breakfast without having paid for it as part of my booking" "Don't be silly, you are sill signing for it" I thought. It was no good, they had made me feel guilty as if I had broken the rules, was engaging in a criminal act. I guess that this is not entirely their fault because on the few occasions that I have had to enter a police station, I immediately and ridiculously feel guilty of having broken some undefined law. I was in an Edinburgh police station to report the theft of my car but when faced with an officer in uniform I felt like confessing to a crime that I had not committed.
One morning I came down for breakfast a little earlier and there were no breakfast police on guard at the entrance to the restaurant. I waited and waited but nobody came. I overcame my guilty feelings, walked in, ordered two eggs, loaded up my plate with pork products, poured a large cup of coffee and sat down. I waited for the breakfast gestapo to arrive but I was left in peace. On the way out I looked for somebody to tell that I had just eaten an illegal breakfast but today it was obviously not important because I could not find anybody.
My day involves an early morning car ride to the shipyard and this usually means a number of near death experiences along the way. Drivers show zero respect for each other on the road and typically drive at high speed about one metre behind the car in front. Very scary and there really would be no way to react fast enough if the car in front braked hard. The statistics for deaths on the road are terrifying and despite BP being involved in numerous offshore activities that are fraught with danger, the biggest risk to personnel is the drive to and from work via the Salyan Highway. My driver of the gaudy green old Mercedes estate with the smell of smoke, cracked windscreen and bald tyres weaves in an out of traffic whilst texting or screaming into his phone and if he takes a break from these non driving related activities he shouts proudly “I crazy driver Yes?”. I think it’s more of a statement than a question actually.
This is a travel blog so I will not bore you with details of my days work but I will say that travel exposes you to different cultures and of course we can learn from these cultural exchanges and grow as a person. Bullshit. I don’t really want to learn about chain smoking counterfeit cigarettes whilst the so called devout follower of a certain religion tries to screw you and openly asks for bribes. All this in coveralls that have an acrid sweaty armpit smell that even overpowers the cheap burnt tobacco stench. Travel, the majority of the time exposes you to an important fact that separates civilised successful countries from those that simply wallow in bribes and kickbacks. Yes, corruption. It is everywhere!
My stay over, I risk my life with “crazy driver” and head to the airport. My return leg is economy and it’s a full flight. How joyous a travel experience this is going to be! Dreamliner? What in particular is dreamy about being stuck in a seat with insufficient leg room and shit food that has to be eaten with a plastic fork? What is dreamy about turbulence and a toilet with a floor covered in piss and you realise that you made a mistake by not putting your shoes on. Socks smelling of piss for the rest of the flight and numerous persons DNA on your feet.
I rest my case!
I return to civilisation, my family and everything I love. I am indeed an old man travelling reluctantly.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 4th APRIL
Well as expected I am reluctantly back on my travels. I left home early and said goodbye to my gorgeous son (13 months old) and even though he was wearing some of his porridge breakfast in his hair, he still looked unbelievably cute. This to be honest is another major reason for me being a reluctant traveller. What could I gain in knowledge or experience that could compare with being there for my son taking his first steps. He was sitting with his toys and concentrating intensely whilst I hurriedly had a cup of tea before leaving. He stopped playing for a second, looked at me and gave me a huge smile and I wished so much that I did not have to get in taxi and head to the airport.
Anyway leave I did and I was soon at Heathrow Terminal 2 for an exotic flight to Aberdeen for one night. The flight was booked in a hurry in the hope that I could get to Aberdeen early, have my meeting and get back by bath time for the boy. Well yes I could if I paid British Airways £798 for the pleasure of buying my own sandwiches. I opted for travelling this morning with FlyBe, overnight in the Marriott and back home tomorrow afternoon all for the princely sum of £233. Thank you Expedia for making the choice so easy. What could possibly go wrong?
Well firstly I went into to denial about my impending travel and instead of packing last night, I had an extra few glasses of wine and watched rubbish on the TV. This morning turned into a mad dash and that is the reason that my hand luggage went through security and on emerging shot off to the right and onto the naughty conveyor. I protested that I had no liquids so when the security man opened my toilet bag and waved a bottle of aftershave at me, I had to bite my lip when he studied it carefully and said “I do think this is a liquid sir”. To be fair he was very pleasant, checked the contents for explosive capabilities and let me keep it.
I was so traumatised by this event that I had to go to the nearest cafe and have a full English breakfast to calm me down. Feeling suitably calm I wandered down to gate A1 and immediately knew there was a problem. There was a bus waiting at the gate! I have learned that a bus for an internal flight usually means a propeller aircraft and indeed I am sitting on something with two propellers called a Dash 8. The name Dash makes you think of those propeller planes they race between pylons, belching coloured smoke but this one shattered that illusion immediately. Painted in bold letters along the engine cowling it stated “FASTER THAN ROAD OR RAIL” its not exactly “Faster than a speeding bullet” is it? Now lets be honest if this plane was not faster than road or rail it would probably have to be a first world war biplane made out of canvas, wood and some string. Why would I get on a plane, go up to 24000 feet in a cramped space and end up at an airport in the middle of bloody nowhere if rail was just as fast. If the engine had been longer maybe they would have added that its faster than a bicycle or a penny farthing. Can you imagine an aircraft salesman making his sales pitch to potential buyers. “Gentlemen this plane is faster than a coach or a train”. The cheque books would be out immediately.
Ok to be honest, the flight is almost empty and not noisy considering the spinny things that are keeping us up in the air. I did buy a Late and Kitkat meal deal for a not extortionate £3.50 but unfortunately I could not detect any coffee flavour whatsoever. I hate myself for having chocolate because I am starting my diet today. Ok a full English, a Kitkat and a Late with sugar is not the greatest start but from now on I am going to be strong.
The plane is now descending for Aberdeen, bouncing around in the clouds and making noises like a Lancaster bomber in a black and white world war two movie so I will continue my story later.
Well as expected I am reluctantly back on my travels. I left home early and said goodbye to my gorgeous son (13 months old) and even though he was wearing some of his porridge breakfast in his hair, he still looked unbelievably cute. This to be honest is another major reason for me being a reluctant traveller. What could I gain in knowledge or experience that could compare with being there for my son taking his first steps. He was sitting with his toys and concentrating intensely whilst I hurriedly had a cup of tea before leaving. He stopped playing for a second, looked at me and gave me a huge smile and I wished so much that I did not have to get in taxi and head to the airport.
Anyway leave I did and I was soon at Heathrow Terminal 2 for an exotic flight to Aberdeen for one night. The flight was booked in a hurry in the hope that I could get to Aberdeen early, have my meeting and get back by bath time for the boy. Well yes I could if I paid British Airways £798 for the pleasure of buying my own sandwiches. I opted for travelling this morning with FlyBe, overnight in the Marriott and back home tomorrow afternoon all for the princely sum of £233. Thank you Expedia for making the choice so easy. What could possibly go wrong?
Well firstly I went into to denial about my impending travel and instead of packing last night, I had an extra few glasses of wine and watched rubbish on the TV. This morning turned into a mad dash and that is the reason that my hand luggage went through security and on emerging shot off to the right and onto the naughty conveyor. I protested that I had no liquids so when the security man opened my toilet bag and waved a bottle of aftershave at me, I had to bite my lip when he studied it carefully and said “I do think this is a liquid sir”. To be fair he was very pleasant, checked the contents for explosive capabilities and let me keep it.
I was so traumatised by this event that I had to go to the nearest cafe and have a full English breakfast to calm me down. Feeling suitably calm I wandered down to gate A1 and immediately knew there was a problem. There was a bus waiting at the gate! I have learned that a bus for an internal flight usually means a propeller aircraft and indeed I am sitting on something with two propellers called a Dash 8. The name Dash makes you think of those propeller planes they race between pylons, belching coloured smoke but this one shattered that illusion immediately. Painted in bold letters along the engine cowling it stated “FASTER THAN ROAD OR RAIL” its not exactly “Faster than a speeding bullet” is it? Now lets be honest if this plane was not faster than road or rail it would probably have to be a first world war biplane made out of canvas, wood and some string. Why would I get on a plane, go up to 24000 feet in a cramped space and end up at an airport in the middle of bloody nowhere if rail was just as fast. If the engine had been longer maybe they would have added that its faster than a bicycle or a penny farthing. Can you imagine an aircraft salesman making his sales pitch to potential buyers. “Gentlemen this plane is faster than a coach or a train”. The cheque books would be out immediately.
Ok to be honest, the flight is almost empty and not noisy considering the spinny things that are keeping us up in the air. I did buy a Late and Kitkat meal deal for a not extortionate £3.50 but unfortunately I could not detect any coffee flavour whatsoever. I hate myself for having chocolate because I am starting my diet today. Ok a full English, a Kitkat and a Late with sugar is not the greatest start but from now on I am going to be strong.
The plane is now descending for Aberdeen, bouncing around in the clouds and making noises like a Lancaster bomber in a black and white world war two movie so I will continue my story later.
We were off our WW2 bomber quickly and I was soon in a taxi, heading to the hotel in a blizzard. When I arrived at the Marriot Dyce it brought bad memories flooding back. I used to stay at this hotel on the nights before flying out to north Sea ships, platforms and drill rigs in my younger days. The flights were always early in the morning so no or very little alcohol the night before and an air of depression hanging over the hotel. Aberdeen heliport is probably the most miserable place on the entire earth, with hordes of very reluctant travelers cocooned in survival suits and busting for the toilet. Anyway I digress because that is the past but for me it was one more nail in the coffin for travelling being any sort of fun.
I went down to the bar/restaurant for lunch and ordered fish and chips for my lunch. That would cheer me up and I would restart my diet the next day. No need to worry, I did not eat very much because the battered fish must have been simmered in a bath of oil just above body temperature and it was oily and disgusting. I left the majority on my plate and when the waiter came to collect the substantial greasy mess he asked me "did you enjoy it?". "It was lovely thank you and extremely tasty as you can see" I said. "Good" he said and took my plate. My sarcasm had not worked or he just did not care.
I did not fancy eating in the bar again so I checked Google maps for restaurants in the vicinity. I did not hold out too much hope because it is mainly and area of oil related industrial estates and some pretty miserable looking housing estates. I was so wrong because to my joy the map showed a highly rated Indian restaurant just ten minutes walk from the hotel. I wrapped up warm and braving high winds, a temperature hovering around zero and beads of snow that hurt when they hit my face I set off for culinary heaven. I was walking along planning my order of mixed tandoori starter followed by a lamb madras whilst watching the little Google maps arrow move ever closer to my destination and. The voice instructions also keeping me right. I arrived at the end point on the map and Mr Google announced that I had reached the Indian restaurant but in fact I was right in the middle of a deserted industrial estate and standing outside a large warehouse. I walked on and eventually found another human being walking a dog so I asked her where the Indian restaurant was. The look on her face was sufficient to tell me that there were no restaurants for miles and why would I be standing in an industrial estate in the driving snow, asking such a stupid question. I trudged back to the hotel with one hand frozen due to holding my phone to listen to Googles lies. I hate Google and I hate being away from home!
Back into the Marriot bar and surrounded by tattooed, miserable offshore workers nursing pints of lager shandy. I ordered a pint of Stella uncontaminated by lemonade and felt smug and relieved that I have left that life behind. I am always complaining about bloggers banging on about learning from their travel experiences but to be honest I did learn a couple of things. Do not trust Google maps, it is the devils work or part of an AI conspiracy to piss me off and never ask for a full English breakfast in a Scottish hotel. I was delighted to see a fancily named curry sounding dish on the menu and I was assured that it was a very spicy Malaysian style chicken curry. After my abject failure to find an Indian restaurant, I threw caution to the wind and ordered a Malaysian meal in an Aberdeen offshore oil workers hotel. What could possibly go wrong? It arrived quickly and it constituted of some (not many) chicken pieces on a skewer, a couple of spoonful's of tasteless rice, a miniature milk jug of a runny non spicy brown liquid and two slivers of naan bread. Gone in thirty seconds comes to mind and when I glanced at the football on the TV I missed the waitress taking away the my plate complete with some valuable naan. I went to bed, not exactly hungry, but definitely not satisfied. Another hotel disappointment but I was determined to make up for it at breakfast.
I woke up hungry and headed for the shower and thought of the deeply unhealthy breakfast I was about to devour. I hate hotel showers because they are all different and I hate even more when they are over a bath with bloody horrible shower curtains. I stood naked trying to get the water to stop coming out of the taps and come out of the shower but I could not work out how to do it. I climbed into the bath and tried all ways to activate the shower. I am not sure what I did but I was soaked first by freezing cold water and then scalded by water hot enough to make tea with.
I went down for breakfast and by this time all the tattooed people would already be looking miserable in survival suits at the heliport so it was quite quiet. I was shown to a table and asked what I would like for breakfast. "Full English" I said, "Full Scottish" she replied. I was served a vile brown liquid that was supposed to be coffee and told that I had ask for eggs and the rest was a buffet. As instructed I went to see the egg chef. The egg chef was a grey haired scruffy old man who, if you saw him sitting on cardboard in a shop front with a some threadbare blankets and a well fed dog, you would actually believe was homeless. I asked for two fried eggs please and he obliged by breaking two eggs into what I can only describe as an oil bath. They floated in the bubbling oil and from a cholesterol point of view I don't think my lovely wife would have been very happy. The eggs and a lot of residual oil were slopped onto my plate and I headed for the buffet to top up with further fat bearing food. First it was hash browns i.e. mashed potato saturated with oil, grilled and very healthy tomatoes covered in not so healthy Scottish cheddar, cold beans and mushrooms. You know when you have mushrooms that are past their best, they have a particular strong smell and that is what I detected. That did not stop me and I heaped them onto my plate. This deserves a separate paragraph I think.
How to describe my breakfast? Well it takes a special Chef to master the art of serving two fried eggs with some of the white crispy and other parts raw and gelatinous. The yolk had certainly not reached body temperature. The bacon was ok but the sausages incredibly hard and they slid around my plate on the oil that came with the eggs. The oil had been deeper but my hash browns were rapidly absorbing it. Watching this phenomenon made me think that BP could have used this particular breakfast item to great advantage during their blow out and oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. I have saved a description of the chef’s piece de resistance till last. Mushrooms are a very important part of a cooked breakfast for me and I had loaded my plate with a significant quantity despite the fact that they did have that slightly strong and damp smell that usually means that they are somewhat less than fresh. Breakfast is paid for by the company and my wife is not here to moderate so I went for it. This chef had managed to to take the humble mushroom to a new level. Totally inedible but with a consistency so rubbery and hard that I am sure Pirelli would be interested in his technique for producing tyres. The man is a genius and an F1 car shod with tyres made from his mushrooms would surely be able to complete the whole race without a pit stop. Mushroom slicks and intermediates could become the norm.
The rest of my visit was fairly uneventful and I was soon climbing the stairs of my faster than a train propeller plane and heading for lovely Heathrow and home to my family.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 2nd APRIL
Well thankfully I am now on my second day home and recovering from the frustrations of the airport experience and the flight. My next travel would seem to be in just two days time and this time it really is another exotic location (Aberdeen) for a meeting and then I believe return to Baku the next day. Anyway I need to finish off describing my flight home on the 31st.
Having been suitably amused by the antics of the Moscow bound travellers I headed down the the gate as boarding had been called. of course the flight was not boarding but at last I was taking my economy seat pretty much at the back of the 787 Frightliner. A lady and child, a small boy of fifteen months sat down in the row in front of me and he immediately commenced playing peekaboo through the gap in the seats. Cute child and well behaved. Well that did not last long as he screamed for about four hours of the five and a half hour flight. This was not just your run of the mill shouting these were exorcist type noised, kicking, spitting and howling that was not of this world. I was sure that if I looked, the child would be puking green vomit and his head would be spinning. During a brief respite whilst she tried to calm the monster by walking up and down the plane and thus sharing the misery, the man from across the aisle beckoned to me and whispered "I think the child is possessed by demons". Sometimes on a flight, I think I have not slept at all but there are gaps in time that indicate that I must have dropped off. Well on this occasion I am certain I did not sleep. Demonic possession is a serious matter and I wished I had some garlic and a crucifix!
Well thankfully I am now on my second day home and recovering from the frustrations of the airport experience and the flight. My next travel would seem to be in just two days time and this time it really is another exotic location (Aberdeen) for a meeting and then I believe return to Baku the next day. Anyway I need to finish off describing my flight home on the 31st.
Having been suitably amused by the antics of the Moscow bound travellers I headed down the the gate as boarding had been called. of course the flight was not boarding but at last I was taking my economy seat pretty much at the back of the 787 Frightliner. A lady and child, a small boy of fifteen months sat down in the row in front of me and he immediately commenced playing peekaboo through the gap in the seats. Cute child and well behaved. Well that did not last long as he screamed for about four hours of the five and a half hour flight. This was not just your run of the mill shouting these were exorcist type noised, kicking, spitting and howling that was not of this world. I was sure that if I looked, the child would be puking green vomit and his head would be spinning. During a brief respite whilst she tried to calm the monster by walking up and down the plane and thus sharing the misery, the man from across the aisle beckoned to me and whispered "I think the child is possessed by demons". Sometimes on a flight, I think I have not slept at all but there are gaps in time that indicate that I must have dropped off. Well on this occasion I am certain I did not sleep. Demonic possession is a serious matter and I wished I had some garlic and a crucifix!
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 31st MARCH
I am leaving packing my bag until the last moment out of sheer laziness. Although I am desperate to be home tonight, the thought of Azerbaijan airport being patted down by security guards with smelly armpits and glowered at by immigration leaves me trapped in my chair. Ok Steve do it, I am going to pack and I will report back from the airport, post smelly armpit security experience.
I have made it and I am sitting in the Azerbaijani café in departures. I have been here a while now and I was impressed because I was given a menu very quickly. Unfortunately that was about twenty minutes ago and nothing has happened since. Ok back to check in. Don't join a long queue for check in desks that say "All Destinations" on them because you will just be sent off to join a different queue. Anyway it did not take too long and I was up to security and immigration. It was a long queue comprised of two very different cultures. A flight to Sharjah with all in full Arabic dress and a flight of what appeared to be Russian football hooligans heading home to Moscow. I don't think they have a lot in common and it seemed that vodka had some bearing on their behavior. I think the crux of the argument was why do we all have to stand on the spot and have our photographs taken and we are checked carefully and suspiciously against the photographs in our passports whilst the ladies on the Sharjah flight are in full Hijab and only the eyes can be seen. One woman was wearing huge glasses so it was just a sea of black with glasses perched on a hidden nose. It could really be anybody under that dress so it makes a mockery of checking passports. I do understand their argument especially as only some of us underwent the smelly armpit pat down by security. Oh the joys of travel! What travel blog type information have I gleaned from this experience? Drunk Russians do like devout Moslems and the feelings are mutual.
Ok a bowl of chicken soup has arrived and jolly nice it is too and then cubes of lamb fried with potatoes and onions. Also very nice and even better the Russians have arrived here and are noisily trying to drink the place dry. They are all shouting bistra bistra which means quickly quickly but they are ordering main courses and bottle after bottle of wine. They are calling the Moscow flight and they are only just starting to eat. Brilliant!
The Russians have left but only after announcements that their bags are going to be removed from the plane. One of the ladies had a wine glass the size of a goldfish bowl, full to the top with red wine. She managed to gulp the lot down whilst standing up to leave.
I am leaving packing my bag until the last moment out of sheer laziness. Although I am desperate to be home tonight, the thought of Azerbaijan airport being patted down by security guards with smelly armpits and glowered at by immigration leaves me trapped in my chair. Ok Steve do it, I am going to pack and I will report back from the airport, post smelly armpit security experience.
I have made it and I am sitting in the Azerbaijani café in departures. I have been here a while now and I was impressed because I was given a menu very quickly. Unfortunately that was about twenty minutes ago and nothing has happened since. Ok back to check in. Don't join a long queue for check in desks that say "All Destinations" on them because you will just be sent off to join a different queue. Anyway it did not take too long and I was up to security and immigration. It was a long queue comprised of two very different cultures. A flight to Sharjah with all in full Arabic dress and a flight of what appeared to be Russian football hooligans heading home to Moscow. I don't think they have a lot in common and it seemed that vodka had some bearing on their behavior. I think the crux of the argument was why do we all have to stand on the spot and have our photographs taken and we are checked carefully and suspiciously against the photographs in our passports whilst the ladies on the Sharjah flight are in full Hijab and only the eyes can be seen. One woman was wearing huge glasses so it was just a sea of black with glasses perched on a hidden nose. It could really be anybody under that dress so it makes a mockery of checking passports. I do understand their argument especially as only some of us underwent the smelly armpit pat down by security. Oh the joys of travel! What travel blog type information have I gleaned from this experience? Drunk Russians do like devout Moslems and the feelings are mutual.
Ok a bowl of chicken soup has arrived and jolly nice it is too and then cubes of lamb fried with potatoes and onions. Also very nice and even better the Russians have arrived here and are noisily trying to drink the place dry. They are all shouting bistra bistra which means quickly quickly but they are ordering main courses and bottle after bottle of wine. They are calling the Moscow flight and they are only just starting to eat. Brilliant!
The Russians have left but only after announcements that their bags are going to be removed from the plane. One of the ladies had a wine glass the size of a goldfish bowl, full to the top with red wine. She managed to gulp the lot down whilst standing up to leave.
I mentioned that there was a storm brewing in yesterdays post and my goodness hat a storm it turned out to be. My visit to the dock was difficult because it was difficult to stand up and holding up my phone to take photographs not possible because the wind so strong that I could not keep the camera still. It really does get dangerous as debris flies through the air.
I went out for a late lunch with a relative and he took me to a typical Azerbaijani barbecue restaurant. The meat is not the tenderest and I am sure that this was not a low cholesterol meal but there is something that that they do with marinading the meat or during the cooking that makes it taste different from any barbecued meat that I have tasted elsewhere.
In the evening I met friends for a drink at the top of Fountain Square and when I came out there was an incredible and sustained gust for about thirty seconds that blew an old woman clean off her feet and tumble her along the pavement. We managed to grab her and get her to her feet but whilst doing so a large glass roof outside a street cafe lifted almost vertically as if hinged where it was attached to the wall and then smashed down showering all the diners below in glass. Miraculously it did not appear that anybody was hurt and they all dashed back into the main building. Along the main road out of the city, trucks were overturned and amazingly one without a trailer, was on its roof. I have added a few photographs of damage near friends houses.
I went out for a late lunch with a relative and he took me to a typical Azerbaijani barbecue restaurant. The meat is not the tenderest and I am sure that this was not a low cholesterol meal but there is something that that they do with marinading the meat or during the cooking that makes it taste different from any barbecued meat that I have tasted elsewhere.
In the evening I met friends for a drink at the top of Fountain Square and when I came out there was an incredible and sustained gust for about thirty seconds that blew an old woman clean off her feet and tumble her along the pavement. We managed to grab her and get her to her feet but whilst doing so a large glass roof outside a street cafe lifted almost vertically as if hinged where it was attached to the wall and then smashed down showering all the diners below in glass. Miraculously it did not appear that anybody was hurt and they all dashed back into the main building. Along the main road out of the city, trucks were overturned and amazingly one without a trailer, was on its roof. I have added a few photographs of damage near friends houses.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 30th MARCH
The only travel related issue for today is how incredibly bad Azerbaijani driving is. So many near misses on the way to visit a dry dock in winds so strong that I could lean against it. This of course one of the windiest cities in the world.
The hotel continues to be good and after a few gin and tonics in town last night I popped into the restaurant and had a pretty decent madras curry. I know I am in Azerbaijan so why did I not have some Dolma or something wrapped up in a vine leaf or a cabbage. Simple answer is I do not, like many travel bloggers, eat things that I do not like just for the sake of saying I ate local food and it was soooo good. This is a Muslim country but incredibly tolerant so breakfast of bacon, eggs. sausage etc is no problem but the restaurant does totally lack any character and is just a huge and pretty much empty space. See the photos below. I must not forget the panoramic views of the city as well so I have include some for you. I did not take the photos in sepia this reflects the colour of the sky as there was an incredible storm brewing and absolutely horrendous winds.
The only travel related issue for today is how incredibly bad Azerbaijani driving is. So many near misses on the way to visit a dry dock in winds so strong that I could lean against it. This of course one of the windiest cities in the world.
The hotel continues to be good and after a few gin and tonics in town last night I popped into the restaurant and had a pretty decent madras curry. I know I am in Azerbaijan so why did I not have some Dolma or something wrapped up in a vine leaf or a cabbage. Simple answer is I do not, like many travel bloggers, eat things that I do not like just for the sake of saying I ate local food and it was soooo good. This is a Muslim country but incredibly tolerant so breakfast of bacon, eggs. sausage etc is no problem but the restaurant does totally lack any character and is just a huge and pretty much empty space. See the photos below. I must not forget the panoramic views of the city as well so I have include some for you. I did not take the photos in sepia this reflects the colour of the sky as there was an incredible storm brewing and absolutely horrendous winds.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 29th MARCH
I am staying at the Landmark hotel due to the fact that everything else decent seems to be fully booked. I quite like the hotel due to the friendly staff and the fantastic views from the restaurant on the 20th floor. The place could do with an upgrade but the room is spacious and clean so no grumbles from me. Meetings with shipyards all day but that is work and nothing to do with travel.
I am staying at the Landmark hotel due to the fact that everything else decent seems to be fully booked. I quite like the hotel due to the friendly staff and the fantastic views from the restaurant on the 20th floor. The place could do with an upgrade but the room is spacious and clean so no grumbles from me. Meetings with shipyards all day but that is work and nothing to do with travel.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 28th MARCH
I arrived at my least favourite Heathrow terminal number 4 and proceeded to check in area F, glanced at the monitors and entered the business class queue. I noted that there was a new welcome carpet for business and first class travelers an thought that it was strange because AZAL refer to Comfort and VIP class. I waited patiently for a Chinese family to check in a large number of suitcases and then I noticed that the majority of the people on the flight were Chinese and I was wondering why so many were heading to Baku when the penny dropped, yes I was standing in the Air China queue. I managed to extract myself and was quickly checked in by AZAL.
AZAL uses the Gulf air lounge and it is really good and usually has some form of curry on offer. Today it was Tandoori chicken and chicken biryani washed down with a lovely cold Pinot Grigio. Don't start thinking that I am beginning to enjoy travel because this is just a brief pleasant interlude for the misery that lies ahead.
I arrived at my least favourite Heathrow terminal number 4 and proceeded to check in area F, glanced at the monitors and entered the business class queue. I noted that there was a new welcome carpet for business and first class travelers an thought that it was strange because AZAL refer to Comfort and VIP class. I waited patiently for a Chinese family to check in a large number of suitcases and then I noticed that the majority of the people on the flight were Chinese and I was wondering why so many were heading to Baku when the penny dropped, yes I was standing in the Air China queue. I managed to extract myself and was quickly checked in by AZAL.
AZAL uses the Gulf air lounge and it is really good and usually has some form of curry on offer. Today it was Tandoori chicken and chicken biryani washed down with a lovely cold Pinot Grigio. Don't start thinking that I am beginning to enjoy travel because this is just a brief pleasant interlude for the misery that lies ahead.
You can see that they are very generous with the wine or anesthetic as I prefer to think of it. This is a medicine to make the pain of the operation (travelling) more bearable. I enjoyed my brief stay in this little oasis within the zoo of terminal 4 but all too soon headed down to departure gate 8 as the screen said that it was boarding. I knew that when I arrived there this would prove to be a lie because it is what they always do. Confirmed! For a plane that is supposed to be boarding it is strange that everybody is either sitting down or milling around hoping to be first through the gate. About thirty minutes later the announcement was made "families with young children, VIP and Comfort class travelers please commence boarding, all other passengers please remain seated". This marks the moment when everybody leapt out of their seats and the pushing and shoving commenced. Forget families with young children, this is survival of the fittest and from what I can see the fittest seem to be old grannies using their elbows, age and bulk to great advantage in order to get to the front. I stayed seated and watched the mayhem. Not being rude just stating the truth. Some cultures just don't not understand the basic fairness and correctness of queuing, it is an alien concept and they think it is perfectly ok to gain advantage over others who may be weaker or just more polite.
The flight was not too bad but I can just further confirm that there is no way to get comfortable in that seat. The cabin crew worked hard and despite having eaten in the lounge I had the in flight meal. A starter of raw rolled up herring, some pinky bright lipstick coloured raw fish and two translucent prawns was not a good start but the main course of lamb was excellent. The flight even arrived 30 minutes ahead of schedule.
The flight was not too bad but I can just further confirm that there is no way to get comfortable in that seat. The cabin crew worked hard and despite having eaten in the lounge I had the in flight meal. A starter of raw rolled up herring, some pinky bright lipstick coloured raw fish and two translucent prawns was not a good start but the main course of lamb was excellent. The flight even arrived 30 minutes ahead of schedule.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 25th MARCH
No major travel to day, just a trip to Kingston John Lewis. Left early to avoid the horrendous traffic and arrived before the shop was open for business. Home and trying to book my hotel for next week in Baku. All the big hotels are fully booked so it looks as it will be the Boulevard hotel again. Nice hotel but a little bit out of town. Stayed there on my last visit and it was very good.
Did you see in the papers today that a latest version long range Dreamliner is now flying directly from Australia to the UK and this saves between four and six hours journey time. An amazing feat of engineering and one that has significantly increased the risk of deep vein thrombosis. I wouldn't like to spend that length of time trapped next to Chez Guevara, Cat Stevens or even Citizen Smith!
No major travel to day, just a trip to Kingston John Lewis. Left early to avoid the horrendous traffic and arrived before the shop was open for business. Home and trying to book my hotel for next week in Baku. All the big hotels are fully booked so it looks as it will be the Boulevard hotel again. Nice hotel but a little bit out of town. Stayed there on my last visit and it was very good.
Did you see in the papers today that a latest version long range Dreamliner is now flying directly from Australia to the UK and this saves between four and six hours journey time. An amazing feat of engineering and one that has significantly increased the risk of deep vein thrombosis. I wouldn't like to spend that length of time trapped next to Chez Guevara, Cat Stevens or even Citizen Smith!
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 23rd MARCH
Well the threat of further travel has happened and I am booked to fly AZAL to Baku on Tuesday and returning on the Saturday, so home for Easter Sunday. No surprises in Baku for me as I lived there for a long time but one thing that never ceases to surprise me is how uncomfortable the comfort class seats are on the so called Dream Liner. Loads of legroom, reclining but totally uncomfortable horrible seats. I think AZAl liked the idea of having a 787 on the prestigious London route but bought the basic model. Nothing special inside, uncomfortable seats and grudging service. I will be visiting a dry dock for one of our ships and then meetings with the shipyard personnel that will carry out the work. They speak Azerbaijani and Russian whilst I speak only English. It is going to be fun! I am going to check the cost of hotels and see if I can stay in the Fairmont at the Flame towers. I used to have an apartment in there and the building is stunning.
Well the threat of further travel has happened and I am booked to fly AZAL to Baku on Tuesday and returning on the Saturday, so home for Easter Sunday. No surprises in Baku for me as I lived there for a long time but one thing that never ceases to surprise me is how uncomfortable the comfort class seats are on the so called Dream Liner. Loads of legroom, reclining but totally uncomfortable horrible seats. I think AZAl liked the idea of having a 787 on the prestigious London route but bought the basic model. Nothing special inside, uncomfortable seats and grudging service. I will be visiting a dry dock for one of our ships and then meetings with the shipyard personnel that will carry out the work. They speak Azerbaijani and Russian whilst I speak only English. It is going to be fun! I am going to check the cost of hotels and see if I can stay in the Fairmont at the Flame towers. I used to have an apartment in there and the building is stunning.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 22ND MARCH
Yes I am still home and whilst there is a lot of discussion as to where my next travel will be, mercifully it has not as yet transpired. As of the moment I plan to fly to Azerbaijan on Monday to visit a shipyard that is going to carry out repairs on one of our ships. I will probably fly back on the Friday or Saturday and then off to Amsterdam on the Tuesday. Let us see if this all comes to pass but one thing for sure, I will be more than happy to still be at home with the family and thus avoiding horrible airports, cramped planes and Hotels that disappoint.
Yes I am still home and whilst there is a lot of discussion as to where my next travel will be, mercifully it has not as yet transpired. As of the moment I plan to fly to Azerbaijan on Monday to visit a shipyard that is going to carry out repairs on one of our ships. I will probably fly back on the Friday or Saturday and then off to Amsterdam on the Tuesday. Let us see if this all comes to pass but one thing for sure, I will be more than happy to still be at home with the family and thus avoiding horrible airports, cramped planes and Hotels that disappoint.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 19th MARCH
It is a good day as it is a no travel day and so far I have not heard any more rumours with regards to me going to China, New Orleans, Malaysia or heaven forbid back to Venezuela.
The Daily Mail has an article today that describes the delivery flight of a new A350-1000 to Qatar Airways and while there are some points of interest such as the faster air changes and better air filters plus wider economy seats, the main thrust of the article was the individual private bedrooms that the majority of us will never be able to afford and most importantly of all Qatar provide pyjamas that keep your skin hydrated. I won't be needing hydrating Jim Jams back in economy and in any case they will not be offered to the great unwashed in the cheap seats.
Technology moves on and plane interiors do improve with better entertainment systems and lights that can provide a million different colour combinations and hues, but what about the most important aspect i.e. the seat size. Qatar may be making theirs slightly bigger but British Airways are going to make theirs even smaller. Remember when deep vein thrombosis was all the rage and we had to watch videos on how to exercise in your seat because lets be honest, this idea of walking around the cabin is a non starter and if you dare to pass the curtain into business class there will be hell to pay.
It is a good day as it is a no travel day and so far I have not heard any more rumours with regards to me going to China, New Orleans, Malaysia or heaven forbid back to Venezuela.
The Daily Mail has an article today that describes the delivery flight of a new A350-1000 to Qatar Airways and while there are some points of interest such as the faster air changes and better air filters plus wider economy seats, the main thrust of the article was the individual private bedrooms that the majority of us will never be able to afford and most importantly of all Qatar provide pyjamas that keep your skin hydrated. I won't be needing hydrating Jim Jams back in economy and in any case they will not be offered to the great unwashed in the cheap seats.
Technology moves on and plane interiors do improve with better entertainment systems and lights that can provide a million different colour combinations and hues, but what about the most important aspect i.e. the seat size. Qatar may be making theirs slightly bigger but British Airways are going to make theirs even smaller. Remember when deep vein thrombosis was all the rage and we had to watch videos on how to exercise in your seat because lets be honest, this idea of walking around the cabin is a non starter and if you dare to pass the curtain into business class there will be hell to pay.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 17TH AND 18TH MARCH
Well having been back from Inverness for a few days it was time for some travel closer to home. I live near London and can be in Waterloo station from home in about thirty five minutes so when I was asked to attend a business meal on Saturday night (17th March) with my wife, my first thought was to travel up early evening, attend the meal at seven thirty and get one of the last trains home. As you are no doubt now aware I am at best reluctant to travel so I decided it would be far more pleasurable if we travelled up earlier in the day and booked into a hotel for the night. Ok I am tired of staying in hotels and prefer to sleep in my own bed so I decided to book somewhere nice that would alleviate my hatred of being away from home and anyway my wife would enjoy being pampered. To this end I checked the restaurant we would be eating at (Mayfair Gardens) and checked TRIVAGO for a nearby hotel. It stands to reason that it suggested the Mayfair Hotel and for once I was able to obtain a better rate than on the hotels own website. I imagined that we would be able to step out of the hotel, go round the corner and into the restaurant. Wrong, they are actually nearly a mile apart so that was the first mistake and a bad omen for the trip ahead. What else could go wrong?
On the Friday it started to snow and the news was all about the Mini Beast from the East that Putin, taking a break from assassinating his ex friends had sent to dump snow on London on the Saturday and Sunday. She who has to be obeyed suggested that as British Rail could close down due to a dusting of Siberian flakes, it would be better to take the car and park overnight in the city. We have a big four wheel drive so this would be more likely to get us home than the train. Yes I know, four wheel drive car in London, never off road, CO2 emissions, drinks diesel, global climate change, kills baby seals and kittens etc etc. This seemed like an eminently sensible suggestion so I set about booking a car park close to the hotel. Sensible but bloody expensive as it turns out, costing fifty seven pounds for twenty four hours. This is becoming an expensive night in the city, I think you can get an all inclusive week in Benidorm for less!
The drive to the city was uneventful apart from the sat nav taking us round and round he back streets of Mayfair. To be honest, I was so fixated waiting for the lady from the sat nav to say 'you have reached your destination' that I must have driven straight past the front of the hotel. In hindsight I don't know how I missed it. Grand brightly lit building with a huge sign saying Mayfair Hotel, flags on poles and of course doormen wearing uniforms and silly hats. Anyway I did miss it and thus the sat nav confusion down a series of small but quaint backstreets. This car is really too big for such places!
My next travel mistake was not realising that the hotel had a valet parking service, so instead I dropped off my wife at the hotel to check in and I went in search of the NCP diamond encrusted bloody car park. I found it with ease, but I did not get in with ease. This is a fairly narrow hideous concrete structure squeezed in between two other buildings and having passed through the barrier, I was faced with a seemingly impossibly tight left hand turn. The man had to come out of his booth to guide me through and honestly I must have lost a few molecules of paint from my wing mirrors and bumpers because it was that tight. The next problem was the headroom and I expected every rough, dripping concrete beam to gouge the roof of the car. I parked in the open on the roof and that is when I noticed my next mistake. It is zero degrees, windy and snowing outside and my jacket is with my wife a the hotel. I did have the small suitcase and it crossed my mind to put socks on my hands and a pair of pants on my head for the walk back to the hotel.
No major drama apart from being in the early stages of hypothermia by the time that I reached reception. We have been upgraded my wife announced as I entered the rather spartan five star room. To be fair both the room and bathroom were a reasonable size for a London hotel and there is no doubting that it was clean and with no road noise due to double glazing and additional secondary glazing. There was however nothing cosy about the room and it looked a little past its best and in need of an upgrade. No grumbles, we have been upgraded from a shoebox to a decent sized room. Thank you Mayfair Hotel!
We headed out shopping and first stop was for a bit of lunch at one of the Concerto chain of Italian cafes. Tiny tables and chandeliers but quick service and plates of seafood and cold meats to share at a reasonable price. On the downside it is cramped and noisy so tis a bit like having a table for two in the middle of Waterloo Station concourse during rush hour. Next we went to Selfridges. Lovely shop but busy as hell but one small purchase and we were out of there. Next we headed for House of Fraser because they had a fifty percent sale. The better half set off looking for bargains and I said I would have a quiet coffee in the cafe. Have you tried to find the cafe or for that matter find anything in House of Fraser. The signs are crap and when I did find the cafe, it was a restaurant with a massive queue. I gave up on it and found my wife just leaving the ladies clothes section. Nothing amongst all those lines and lines of racks of heavily discounted clothes that she liked? Whilst this was good news for me it is not good news for House of Fraser and I fear that they will be another high street casualty in the not too near future.
Apologies for being long winded but I just wanted you to have the background to the main event i.e. the meal and a nights stay at this prestigious hotel.
THE MAIN EVENT
We did not walk to the restaurant because Google said it would take seventeen minutes and it was snowing heavily. The Mayfair Garden is described as providing 'Authentic Chinese Cuisine' and when we arrived a little early and joined friends for a pre dinner drink it was a very cold authentic Chinese restaurant. We kept our coats on and aimed the little fan heaters scattered around the floor, in our direction. People say that Trip Advisor is rubbish but I have found it to be pretty accurate so I warned my wife that it would be cold because a previous diner had complained that the only heating seemed to be little fan heaters, and so it came to pass.
I will not go into details of the meal because it was on balance pretty tasty and the service good. Would I go back there (yes if its free), well probably yes but I prefer Hakkasan for the food (Duck salad) although it does tend to be noisy so not as good for a business meal if you need to converse as a large group.
Meal completed and wives bored senseless due to us talking about ships and barges all evening and we stepped outside and into a taxi. After a rather large meal (soft shell crab is great) and many top ups of a rather good Argentinian Malbec, we really looked forward to climbing into bed and having a lovely lie in. Did I mention that I hate travel and don't like staying in hotels, sorry maybe I am repeating myself but it is for a very good reason.
Well we did the climbing into bed bit but despite the fact it as past midnight the corridor was noisy and there was music and a booming base track coming through the walls. It was like the noise from a car with a giant sub woofer as it comes past but this was constant. We thought that it was a club in the hotel and it would stop soon but it did not and I was very jealous when my wife dropped off to sleep despite the increasing noise level from what now sounded like a party going on in one of the rooms. Don't be grumpy Stephen, I said to myself and eventually I fell asleep only to be woken at four o'clock in the morning due to the fire alarm going off. We hurriedly dressed and headed down to the foyer via the fire escape. It was quite a sight with some guests still dressed (barely) with miniskirts and boobs hanging out, some in robes, some in pyjamas and some like us had risked their lives to get dressed. There was one man behind reception so I asked him about the fire alarm and what should we do. He informed me that there was no fire because if there was there would be fire engines outside. Strange logic because I have always found that fires start first and the fire engines follow on later. Maybe the London firemen have crystal balls and can see into the future but if it that is the case why don't they stop the fires from starting?. Not happy with his answer I asked the flustered night manager and he said something unconvincing about a shower and steam setting of a fire head. We went back to bed but there were still a number of partly dressed sleepy looking guests arriving in the foyer.
the noise and the party going on somewhere in the building continued unabated throughout the fire alarm and there was no sign that the party goers had taken any notice. I went back down to the foyer where several guests were complaining the they could not sleep because of the noise. Two ladies had recorded the music and shouting on their phones and they played it back to the manager. He was apologetic but the only offer made was to move us into different rooms. Wrong wrong wrong Mayfair, you simply pull the plug on the music being played by one selfish bastard and you let us stay in our rooms and try to get at least some sleep. The music stopped at approximately quarter past five in the morning. I have paid for a five star hotel and the hotel has failed in the most fundamental of the requisites for calling yourself a hotel i.e. making it possible for your guests to sleep. I hate travel and I hate hotels. This room cost me £331 for one night and I could not even sleep. I did speak to the customer relations manager in the morning and I will be returning to the Mayfair for a night in the future but this time it will be free!
It is Sunday evening 18th March and I am home, our dinner is cooking in the oven, the house is warm with log fires burning, it is zero degrees outside and snowing heavily, it will soon be bath time for the our son (12 months old), put him to bed and have a glass of a good Rioja. Life is good and I am so glad not to be on my travels.
Where am I going next? well during the meal it was mentioned that I may be going to China to prepare a ship for delivery to Australia, I may be going to New Orleans or possibly Malaysia. You will be the second to know.
,
Well having been back from Inverness for a few days it was time for some travel closer to home. I live near London and can be in Waterloo station from home in about thirty five minutes so when I was asked to attend a business meal on Saturday night (17th March) with my wife, my first thought was to travel up early evening, attend the meal at seven thirty and get one of the last trains home. As you are no doubt now aware I am at best reluctant to travel so I decided it would be far more pleasurable if we travelled up earlier in the day and booked into a hotel for the night. Ok I am tired of staying in hotels and prefer to sleep in my own bed so I decided to book somewhere nice that would alleviate my hatred of being away from home and anyway my wife would enjoy being pampered. To this end I checked the restaurant we would be eating at (Mayfair Gardens) and checked TRIVAGO for a nearby hotel. It stands to reason that it suggested the Mayfair Hotel and for once I was able to obtain a better rate than on the hotels own website. I imagined that we would be able to step out of the hotel, go round the corner and into the restaurant. Wrong, they are actually nearly a mile apart so that was the first mistake and a bad omen for the trip ahead. What else could go wrong?
On the Friday it started to snow and the news was all about the Mini Beast from the East that Putin, taking a break from assassinating his ex friends had sent to dump snow on London on the Saturday and Sunday. She who has to be obeyed suggested that as British Rail could close down due to a dusting of Siberian flakes, it would be better to take the car and park overnight in the city. We have a big four wheel drive so this would be more likely to get us home than the train. Yes I know, four wheel drive car in London, never off road, CO2 emissions, drinks diesel, global climate change, kills baby seals and kittens etc etc. This seemed like an eminently sensible suggestion so I set about booking a car park close to the hotel. Sensible but bloody expensive as it turns out, costing fifty seven pounds for twenty four hours. This is becoming an expensive night in the city, I think you can get an all inclusive week in Benidorm for less!
The drive to the city was uneventful apart from the sat nav taking us round and round he back streets of Mayfair. To be honest, I was so fixated waiting for the lady from the sat nav to say 'you have reached your destination' that I must have driven straight past the front of the hotel. In hindsight I don't know how I missed it. Grand brightly lit building with a huge sign saying Mayfair Hotel, flags on poles and of course doormen wearing uniforms and silly hats. Anyway I did miss it and thus the sat nav confusion down a series of small but quaint backstreets. This car is really too big for such places!
My next travel mistake was not realising that the hotel had a valet parking service, so instead I dropped off my wife at the hotel to check in and I went in search of the NCP diamond encrusted bloody car park. I found it with ease, but I did not get in with ease. This is a fairly narrow hideous concrete structure squeezed in between two other buildings and having passed through the barrier, I was faced with a seemingly impossibly tight left hand turn. The man had to come out of his booth to guide me through and honestly I must have lost a few molecules of paint from my wing mirrors and bumpers because it was that tight. The next problem was the headroom and I expected every rough, dripping concrete beam to gouge the roof of the car. I parked in the open on the roof and that is when I noticed my next mistake. It is zero degrees, windy and snowing outside and my jacket is with my wife a the hotel. I did have the small suitcase and it crossed my mind to put socks on my hands and a pair of pants on my head for the walk back to the hotel.
No major drama apart from being in the early stages of hypothermia by the time that I reached reception. We have been upgraded my wife announced as I entered the rather spartan five star room. To be fair both the room and bathroom were a reasonable size for a London hotel and there is no doubting that it was clean and with no road noise due to double glazing and additional secondary glazing. There was however nothing cosy about the room and it looked a little past its best and in need of an upgrade. No grumbles, we have been upgraded from a shoebox to a decent sized room. Thank you Mayfair Hotel!
We headed out shopping and first stop was for a bit of lunch at one of the Concerto chain of Italian cafes. Tiny tables and chandeliers but quick service and plates of seafood and cold meats to share at a reasonable price. On the downside it is cramped and noisy so tis a bit like having a table for two in the middle of Waterloo Station concourse during rush hour. Next we went to Selfridges. Lovely shop but busy as hell but one small purchase and we were out of there. Next we headed for House of Fraser because they had a fifty percent sale. The better half set off looking for bargains and I said I would have a quiet coffee in the cafe. Have you tried to find the cafe or for that matter find anything in House of Fraser. The signs are crap and when I did find the cafe, it was a restaurant with a massive queue. I gave up on it and found my wife just leaving the ladies clothes section. Nothing amongst all those lines and lines of racks of heavily discounted clothes that she liked? Whilst this was good news for me it is not good news for House of Fraser and I fear that they will be another high street casualty in the not too near future.
Apologies for being long winded but I just wanted you to have the background to the main event i.e. the meal and a nights stay at this prestigious hotel.
THE MAIN EVENT
We did not walk to the restaurant because Google said it would take seventeen minutes and it was snowing heavily. The Mayfair Garden is described as providing 'Authentic Chinese Cuisine' and when we arrived a little early and joined friends for a pre dinner drink it was a very cold authentic Chinese restaurant. We kept our coats on and aimed the little fan heaters scattered around the floor, in our direction. People say that Trip Advisor is rubbish but I have found it to be pretty accurate so I warned my wife that it would be cold because a previous diner had complained that the only heating seemed to be little fan heaters, and so it came to pass.
I will not go into details of the meal because it was on balance pretty tasty and the service good. Would I go back there (yes if its free), well probably yes but I prefer Hakkasan for the food (Duck salad) although it does tend to be noisy so not as good for a business meal if you need to converse as a large group.
Meal completed and wives bored senseless due to us talking about ships and barges all evening and we stepped outside and into a taxi. After a rather large meal (soft shell crab is great) and many top ups of a rather good Argentinian Malbec, we really looked forward to climbing into bed and having a lovely lie in. Did I mention that I hate travel and don't like staying in hotels, sorry maybe I am repeating myself but it is for a very good reason.
Well we did the climbing into bed bit but despite the fact it as past midnight the corridor was noisy and there was music and a booming base track coming through the walls. It was like the noise from a car with a giant sub woofer as it comes past but this was constant. We thought that it was a club in the hotel and it would stop soon but it did not and I was very jealous when my wife dropped off to sleep despite the increasing noise level from what now sounded like a party going on in one of the rooms. Don't be grumpy Stephen, I said to myself and eventually I fell asleep only to be woken at four o'clock in the morning due to the fire alarm going off. We hurriedly dressed and headed down to the foyer via the fire escape. It was quite a sight with some guests still dressed (barely) with miniskirts and boobs hanging out, some in robes, some in pyjamas and some like us had risked their lives to get dressed. There was one man behind reception so I asked him about the fire alarm and what should we do. He informed me that there was no fire because if there was there would be fire engines outside. Strange logic because I have always found that fires start first and the fire engines follow on later. Maybe the London firemen have crystal balls and can see into the future but if it that is the case why don't they stop the fires from starting?. Not happy with his answer I asked the flustered night manager and he said something unconvincing about a shower and steam setting of a fire head. We went back to bed but there were still a number of partly dressed sleepy looking guests arriving in the foyer.
the noise and the party going on somewhere in the building continued unabated throughout the fire alarm and there was no sign that the party goers had taken any notice. I went back down to the foyer where several guests were complaining the they could not sleep because of the noise. Two ladies had recorded the music and shouting on their phones and they played it back to the manager. He was apologetic but the only offer made was to move us into different rooms. Wrong wrong wrong Mayfair, you simply pull the plug on the music being played by one selfish bastard and you let us stay in our rooms and try to get at least some sleep. The music stopped at approximately quarter past five in the morning. I have paid for a five star hotel and the hotel has failed in the most fundamental of the requisites for calling yourself a hotel i.e. making it possible for your guests to sleep. I hate travel and I hate hotels. This room cost me £331 for one night and I could not even sleep. I did speak to the customer relations manager in the morning and I will be returning to the Mayfair for a night in the future but this time it will be free!
It is Sunday evening 18th March and I am home, our dinner is cooking in the oven, the house is warm with log fires burning, it is zero degrees outside and snowing heavily, it will soon be bath time for the our son (12 months old), put him to bed and have a glass of a good Rioja. Life is good and I am so glad not to be on my travels.
Where am I going next? well during the meal it was mentioned that I may be going to China to prepare a ship for delivery to Australia, I may be going to New Orleans or possibly Malaysia. You will be the second to know.
,