Fast food, bad wine and mad women

Just to complete the record, here are the first few blog-likes (the earliest ones were really mass emails) from my first weeks back in Singapore. The title derives from my mantra from the last couple of months before I left London - that I was returning to seek Fast Cars, Old Wine and Bad Women. What I have found (so far) has been fast food and bad wine while still trying to avoid the mad women. Some of you may have noticed that I have left out the long quotation from Kill Bill Vol. 2 sent some time at the beginning of September.
I didn't really think that counted as a blog (or even a blog-like) - some may disagree but then you could only compare that with a sword not made by Hattori Hanzo.

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Sun 26 September

hey all, the first bit of this week's blog practically wrote itself - there were so many and so many varied responses to last week's blog (including one hysterical email, one poem by Neruda, a couple of "this is happening to me as well", not to mention many more kindly and concerned enquiries about my general state of mental health). I'm ok, really (and I'm grateful for your concern).

One of the interesting tangential discussion threads that spun off last week's blog was an exchange over the the finer points of the film of the book The Unbearable Lightness of Being - my view of which is that it was cool when you were a teenager but a bit like admitting you still like The Cure when you are in your mid to late 30's. Pre-Wall, memories of Prague 1954 (but don't they make good Pilsner) and all that but for my money, you're better off watching Goodbye Lenin for a good dose of oestalgia.

You can tell I am in a far better mood since I've had my dose of mahjong yesterday - the first since my return. So I will not be repeating my usual whinges on the eternal themes of wine, women and song. Well, maybe a few words on the last item in that list.

So, some thoughts on advertising instead. Remember how you always remember the really dumb ads even the ones which you thought were a truly stupid way to advertise a particular product? Well, at least you remembered the ad and consequently the product - if ads are always (and possibly only) about awareness then it must have worked.

At a very basic level, you have to be aware that there is an alternative, say dandruff shampoo to Head and Shoulders. Beyond that, it's a question of whether it is better and cheaper but at some level, probably with luxury goods - it is a reflection of who you think you are (or in the words of HRH Charles of Wales, the Prince - "should one think one is told what one is told because of who one is?").

So Prada not Versace for me, Armani maybe and wouldn't be seen dead in Dolce e Gabbana. Jury's still out on Issey Miyake (so-oo Flamboyant cf. lyrics from the Pet Shop Boys song) but to return to my original hypothesis, maybe it does not matter and you create the image which then becomes you rather than the other way around. Now (he says with much mischief) what if I were to create this myth and market myself as the Most Eligible Bachelor in Singapore (editors, kindly note initial caps, not italicised and always set in 18-point Helvetica only - which this is not but we will gloss over that). Reflections and comments on a postcard, please.

Finally, a few words on the song of the week. Eva Cassidy's live and acoustic rendition of Sting's Fields of Gold at the Blues Alley. Forget the quality of the voice and delivery, it's all good, nay better than the slurry mock "busker in a Notting Hill Tube station" style of the original. It's not even the lightness of the pre-phrasing (argh! that word again, lightness) and the fine transformation into dotted crotchets. It's the inflection in the diction introducing the curiously twinned elements of regret and reproach that never existed in the original. It's like she was slightly pissed off about all the good things the song is about. The years, the sun and even the goddamned fields of barley.

Go forth and listen, tell me what's in a voice but most of all, believe ...

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Sun 19 September

hey all,

wasn't sure if I was gonna be able to summon up enough energy to write this - too many beers to the soundtrack of other people's post/mid-life crisis last night. Those of you who were there will know what I am talking about.

Which brings me to the main topic of this week's bitter and twisted rant (I am going resolutely avoid (which way makes it a split infinitive?) discussing wine this week as I have been disappointed by pretty everything I have consumed - my fault as I think I chose everything this last week and apologies to the folks who have been subjected to my choices). Verily, my cup runneth over (many times over).

Now I don't think I am a particularly perceptive person nor have I developed any reliable gut instinct (as opposed to a reliably well-developed gut) but if you have watched as many good as well as bad movies as I have on in-flight entertainment, plots get kinda pedictable and you can usually spot the train/plane/automobile crash a couple of scenes before it actually happens.
What I am trying to get to in a tortured and round about way is the plethora of predictable parables of my friends (close and not so) repeating the same mistakes that was the cause of so much teenaged angst so many years ago.

As I clock up the reunion hours with the university mafia, the diaper brigade and the former teenaged mutant ninja dirtbags, I could fill a book with stories about old acquaintances settling for and settling down with people about whom they were never sure of (and we never really liked them these other halves, did we?) then meeting someone they (erroneously) thought they should have got together with in the first place and the whole thing descends into the usual predictable mess.

I could fill a book, I guess but I wouldn't want to lose my long lost friends before I've found them again. Nor would I presume to judge them - kyrie eleison, last thing in the world and all that. Yep, truly there but for the grace of God go I (over and over again). I once knew (not in a biblical fashion) a girl called Grace but that, as they say, was in another country and besides ...

So as I sit here listening to yet another Eagles compilation CD (actually it was the first CD I bought, like ever) and counting up the half a dozen annulments, a few more divorces and many more barely but just still together stories, I am saddened at how life just seems to deal us a couple of aces in the hole which come to nothing while we get screwed by someone else's straight flush. More have died of heartbreak - go figure.

And so to this week's music choice - Heart of the matter by Don Henley. I know, I know - yet another aging ex-Eagles coming up with yet another angst-ridden mush-rock anthem but hey, pace Springsteen the word "forgiveness" works a darned sight better than "redemption" (cf. Thunder Road).

Keep the faith ...

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Sun 12 September

hey all,

just got back from Manila Thursday night and the priority this obective-oriented weekend is to sort out a better way to do this blog (has to be some kind of web-based application) but until then I will be clogging up your inboxes.

Manila - snack capital of the world, we were there on an educational mission including a bizarre seminar in a Jesuit college - preaching the message of Mammon in the house of God (near enough). Ad majoram Dei Gloriam and all that. A couple of days earlier, we did a shortened version in our offices for valued clients - gave them 3 lectures and fed them 5 times. Each time the food arrived, concentration levels nosedived and I was so glad when my last talk crawled to an end and the scoffing at the troughing could begin.

Beef in coconut sauce, pork in palm sugar, deep fried bananas in sugar syrup and the piece de resistance, fruit cocktail in condensed milk. A heart surgeon could really make a killing in Manila.

Filipinos are really nice people even if they rejoice in the most unlikely of names - every other person seemed to want to be addressed as Bunny regardless of gender. Not incongrous if one is a twenty-something female, harder if one is a middle-aged male weighing twenty-something stone. Notable exception was the former taekwondo champion of the Philippines (turned banker) who was known to the entire industry as Boopsie - I assure you that you do not want to mess with Boopsie especially not in a dark alleyway on a moonless night in Makati.

I was chatting to a very nice young lady at the buffet table (not a Bunny) who resembled a young Imelda Marcos (before all the shoes) but sadly realised that after 10,000 snacks, she would end up the way of Imelda and snap the heels of the stilettoes out of sheer bulk.

Back in Singapore - last night was an opportunity to catch a live and acoustic performance by Tony and friends so I dragged Anth along as a belated birthday thing. Must be getting old as I quite enjoyed drinking beer, smoking cigars and listening to old timers sing songs from the Seventies. Wong would have enjoyed it.

I'm also very glad Elisabeth R has come to live and work here for a while - now I have a reason to go to the zoo, Sentosa and all the other touristy things (we went to Chinatown last weekend) that I really should do even though I have to be seen to be rubbishing. Just like getting someone else to order crispy aromatic duck in a Chinese restaurant in London.

Nostalgia is a funny thing and for sure, the food was better, the streets cleaner in our (possibly collective) memory of how life used to be here. You can never go home again but I am enjoying it ...

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Tues 31 August

hi - just a quick little note to say thanks to everyone who has been in touch. Also wanted to dispel rumour that all I have been doing at work is sending emails to my friends. I have been working quite hard actually and am off to visit the far reaches of the empire - feeling very Roman and pro-consular. It has been gratifying that the hardest part about coming back has been the logistics - unpacking 30 boxes last weekend and finding a suitable place to store my wine etc. but I have broadband set up now and hope to sort out the car tomorrow. Then perhaps the social life can be kicked up a notch as they say on the Food Channel. Too much American TV here. Lots of people have also been in touch to say they will be visiting or, in some cases, thinking of relocating here - all good news. A small request before I go - if anyone can find some of the "blogs" I sent from Tokyo - please email them to me as I have not kept any of them.
See, speak to or read email from you soon.

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Mon 16 August

hi - just a brief note to say hello and that it has been seventeen days since I've been back. As they say in Star Trek "It's life, Captain - but not as we know it". The scary thing is that unlike the prodigal son or even MacArthur who returned, there is a real sense that I have never really gone away. They can take the boy out of the village but they cannot take the village out of the village boy. I think I will run for Parliament in 2012. Life has also improved immeasurably since I got cable TV and broadband internet at the weekend.

Work is coming along well - I had an offer from the legendary Chip Goodrich to redraft some documents for me after a late conference call (in the derivatives world, it is the equivalent of Michael Schumacher offering you a lift in his car). On the other hand, my first tennis game was rained off, mahjong buddies are elusive as ever and my mother is looking to divine intervention to get me married off (she is not Catholic but has recently started the whole Novena thing to get the Virgin Mary and the assortment of various saints on the case).

In my few spare quiet moments, I worry that all of you are either not drinking enough or paying over the odds for it - so pop down to your local Oddbins and buy as many bottles of vintage Laurent Perrier 1995 (reduced to GBP 25.59) as you can carry. Nunc est bibendum.

Hanami Party! Party! Party!

Some of you may remeber this blogging thing started in spring this year when I got to Tokyo. Well here it is again, (redux even) warts and all for the benefit of those who never got to read it first time around (thanks to Matthew for keeping every email sent).

Ok - here we go, the first of what I hope will be a weekly letter about life in Tokyo. First things first - belated congratulations to Mrs B on her wedding last weekend and happy birthday to Vicki for Thursday (will someone drink my allocation of champagne for me). Sorry I could not be there for either.Weather here has been largely spring-like until this morning when it started pissing like London - the weekend was sunny days and chilly nights. The cherry blossoms have started to bloom and one of the law firms has invited us to a viewing at a private garden next week and I have been assured suitable refreshments will be provided. The apartment is small but more than adequate (even a walk-in wardrobe) in a village-like enclave near the infamous Roppongi area
http://www.oakwoodtokyo.com/azabujyuban.html
but most importantly no more than a ten minute walk to the office http://www.roppongihills.com/en/introduce/index.html
and a good walk it is too - I have found a short cut along an alley between the Louis Vuitton shop and the Christian Lacroix shop (Lacroix, sweetie) that takes me to the office in about seven minutes. Tokyo has changed a lot since I was last here seven years ago and most of it for the better - the city has swallowed up some of the slummier bits andeverything looks cleaner and nicer. I had also forgotten some of the things (not many) I used to like about Tokyo and it was good to be reminded - David and I spent 10 mins last week discussing why bread in Tokyo makes better toast (we did go on to discuss work stuff, honest). Rather unexpectedly, last Friday turned into a massive session with the folks from the office -Thai green curry, champagne at a karaoke bar, ramen at 3 am and finally getting home at 5 am. TV in Japan has also improved - there was a Chow Yun Fatt afternoon yesterday (in Cantonese) followed by Chelsea-Fulham (delayed) in the late afternoon and Ancona-Inter (live) later last night. Wine tips - having been told about how exorbitant wine is in Tokyo, I lugged some Mas de Daumas Gassac 2000 over (if you are flying from T3 Heathrow get some from BBR at only £13.99) only to find some excellent Erazurriz RapelValley Cabernet-Merlot 2002 for Yen 950 (that's about a fiver if you add taxes). The Rapel Valley stuff is quite good (I suspect there is less oakwhich seems to be the prevailing problem with Chilean wine) and they may even have stopped sourcing grapes from that part of Chile. Back to the Mas de Daumas Gassac - it has a very charming story. Parisian lawyer decides to install mistress in the Languedoc and tells his wife he has bought a vineyard which he needs to tend every weekend so I guess it is a bit of abonus that the wine is now known as the Lafite of the South. I shall open both bottles this week to celebrate 10 years PQE. More next week ...

Week two in Tokyo and I have begun a kind of weekend vampiric existence where I party during the night and sleep during the day. Somewhere along the way I managed to end up at a very cheesy Italian dive next to the Bauhaus bar (70's style music advertised but we managed to resist the temptation). Weather was supposed to have been gorgeous but I guess I missed it and I was told this morning that last weekend could have been the best of the cherry blossoms this year. Wine diary - the weekend started with two bottles of very good Napa chardonnay (rare occasion when I had some white) and ended with something wholly forgettable at Baby Blue (this karaoke place in Nishi Azabu which we keep going back to) but there was a bottle of Moet at an engagement party and some rather good Tinto called Piedmonte (bizarre) in between. An update on Japanese personal hygiene technology (toilet humour by any other name) - when they mention jet wash here, they may not necessarily be talking about cars. Things have not really moved on in seven years - the basic model still offers heated seats and single jet while the luxury model has double jets, dryer and air freshener in addition. Small detail but I think the Braille labelling has really improved on the new control panels. For everyone who has been wondering what Benugo's is - it is the office snack shop. There are also outlets in Mayfair (next to Nicky Clarke's) and along Old Street in London but I think the only place they exist in Tokyo is in our office. Main difference here is that it is almost entirely staffed byIndians and the curry is probably the best I have had in Tokyo (just like the stuff we used to have in my school canteen in Singapore). More next week ...

Week three in Tokyo and this update is really all about life and death. I think I will start with the stuff in between so here is this week's wine diary - the week started with two excellent bottles of Barbaresco (1997 no less) and a couple of strawberry champagne cocktails on a rooftop bar inNishi Azabu courtesy of one of the English law firms out here and ended with too much sake (probably the only form of alcohol I dislike) at Gonpachi (apparently parts of Kill Bill was filmed here and George W has also visited) on Friday night. In between, there was an annual cherry blossom viewing party at one of the banqueting halls with a private garden organised and paid for by another of the English law firms out here. I had a glass of"airport" champagne (£25 for 2 at Terminals 1, 2, 3 and 4) then switched to orange juice for the rest of the night - didn't touch the 2001 claret. The food though was the best I have had since I got here - sushi, tempura,teppanyaki (the marbling on the steak was exquisite) and king scallops all freshly prepared at the buffet and the biggest grilled snapper I have seen in my life. Clearly no expense spared but who is footing the bill? Having been slightly disappointed by the cherry blossoms at Happo-En onThursday night (and not because I was too busy eating), I woke up on Saturday morning (!) to trek to Aoyama cemetery for the authentic experience. It was like walking through a confetti shower for 15 minutes, only better. The petals floating in the wind occasionally drifting upwards in a gentle gust before settling onto little piles of earlier, fallen litter crushed underfoot. Drifts of pink and white against the backdrop of still bare trees, evergreens and the grey granite of tombstones lining both sides of the road. It's spring, the end of winter, toil, a harvest ahead, life, death and everything in between - all spiralling gently downward in ever decreasing circles. Remember the bit in Bladerunner when the last surviving Replicant says "It is a good day to die"? Some day it will be. More next week when I will pontificate on Japanese linguistics and philosophy ...

Week Four - almost a month in Tokyo. Last week, I promised or threatened a few words on Japanese linguistics and philosophy but since this is Easter weekend (we spent a few minutes at the start of the daily meeting on Friday discussing Monty Python's Life of Brian), a few words first on religion. Yesterday was a beautiful day so I decided to do a long walk up to Omotesando to visit the two most sacred shrines in Tokyo. First, the Louis Vuitton store but I had to get out after five minutes to escape hordes of Japanese fighting over non-sale items (and that was just the men). Having done with the modern, I thought a spot of the ancient was called for so a short walk to the Meiji shrine (more foreigners here and fewer Japanese as the latter were all queuing to get into the other place and the feng-shui was oddly not as good as Happo-En place where the cherry blossom party was held 10 days ago - didn't feel right with a distinct lack of the yang element in the air although the planners did their best with the double courtyards and the north-south alignment) where the where the Shinto priests were starting the ritual of feeding the gods. I couldn't quite see what the gods got by way of food but if it was twice as good as the accompanying music, the gods would still not have been pleased. From food to wine - this week's wine diary is a bit of a mixed bag. Mid-weekwas a couple of bottles of Robert Mondavi Private Selection CabernetSauvignon 2000 which was heavily marked up but the bar (the Oak Door at theGrand Hyatt) is highly recommended, not least for the bar food. I had a fabulous soft shell crab and avocado baguette which came with loads ofproper chips not the usual meagre ration of french fries. Saturday night was altogether more promising and started with a couple of glasses of 1998 Amarone at a tiny, out of the way Italian restaurant which served the best Caesar's salad I have ever had (that's like, ever) and the highlight of the week was a Chateau Grande Pontet 1996 at the same place (brought our own, paid corkage - well worth it). Last night, I was re-acquainted with an old friend in the shape of a bottle of Agriolas Isola dei Nuraghi 2001 in an up-market tapas bar. Last time around, it was a wrong turn on the way to Alghero airport and we found ourselves driving down the road to the Agriolas vineyard but oddly not a nuraghi (pre-historic Sardinian stone fortification) in sight. Right, philosophy then. Chomsky (I think) said words have no meaning but people have meanings and ascribe words to them. In the same way, the Japanese have no surnames and given names but ascribe places and events to them. So Ichiro Yamashita means "first-born son of the people who live at the bottom of the hill" and Akiko Arai means "girl born in Autumn to the people who live by the new well". This is not so strange as Newell (same thing) is not an uncommon English surname (as is Baker and Smith) although Arai literally means "hole in the ground" and can also mean toilet (same thing). Incidentally, I recently discovered a Super Deluxe toilet which, along with the heated seat, wash jet and dryer, also had an additional bidet function, automatic seat lift button and a 25 second fake "flushing sound" feature to mask the sound of other, obvious bodily functions. Wonders never cease. Anyway, back to language. The Japanese had to invent not one but two separate forms of writing (apart from the oldest Kanji script which were Chinese-derived characters) to deal with an increasing complex world as it developed. I was in a restaurant last week when a crowd of waiters delivered a cake, candles and all, to the next table singing "Happy Burstday" - it occurred to me then that they had no awareness of the mispronunciation and much less the irony (which to the Japanese is a Swatch watch). It is not bad English - to the Japanese, it is just something foreigners say and that is what it sounds like. The point is this - it's fine for Westerners to make films like Lost in Translation and there is much gentle and gently humorous irony (arrgh ... that word again) in all that but remember, when the geta(sandal) is on the other foot, for the average Japanese person, the outside world is a much more bewildering and frightening place.

Week Five - April is the cruellest month and it also seems to be the time for my annual moan about what I am going to do with my life. So to all my friends who had to listen to the usual litany (especially Anna B) - sumimasen and gomen nasai (can anyone tell me the difference? One is "excuse me" and the other is "I'm sorry" but not sure when to use one or the other). But seriously folks - big thank you's to everyone who has written to say they enjoy these weekly ramblings. It is very encouraging and validating to know these letters do not go straight into "Deleted Items" in your mail folders. This week's update is going to be a little more bitsy after the philosophical diatribe from last week - so moving from the sublime to the ridiculous, a few words on Japanese "dating culture". A colleague (or "co-worker" in American-speak) found me on the trading floor late Friday night and dragged me off to the local pub where there appeared to be a high proportion of single women drinking on their own. According to my co-worker, they were all there on the lookout for single, affluent and not necessarily young men or as he put it "We are now in the last chance saloon but do you want to be buying the drinks?" Seems Japanese women beyond a certain age have a problem getting married off to suitable Japanese men and have to take their chances with stupid foreigners. I recall hearing this from Simon Sum years ago but he called it the "Krissimasu Kaykee" syndrome - likeChristmas cake, no good after their 25th. Life in Tokyo can be so cruel. Food and wine - this week's wine diary will be all of three words. ChateauTalbot 1982. Nothing more needs to be said. The dinner where aforementioned bottle was consumed deserves a few sentences though. We were taken to dinner by a friendly law firm - teppanyaki in the garden of the New Otani Hotel which will be known to all James Bond film buffs as the lair of Blofeld in You Only Live Twice. Foie Gras, lobster and steak among other things that evening but I must correct the impression that I am living it up everyevening. Most days I just buy take away food or cup noodles from the 24hours supermarket and eat at home. I hate eating alone in restaurants. Television - as I eat alone at home a lot, I watch a lot of television with my dinners. It seems that you cannot turn on the TV without getting one ofthe following - someone eating or getting into a hot spring, a golf lesson or a home shopping thing. Or all of the above at the same time. The one saving grace though is the amount of great cartoons at all times of the day and night - often violent, sometimes dark but always cool and a little edgy.I have always been a fan of Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli (Totoro, Porco Rosso and Mononoke Hime) but what I did not know was that they also did Appleseed and they also do some great advertisements as well (my favourite is the one for the newspaper Yoimuri Shimbun featuring scenes from old Tokyo). Japanese dvertisements are going through a "nostalgia" (or perhaps they have always had it) phase so it is all about childhood, a recent holiday or something like that - which brings me to Cinema Paradiso - it was on yesterday morning and always brings a tear to my eyes. We may never be able to go home again but we can always try. Finally, a few words about philosophy. I have promised Elisabeth M that I would write a separate report on Japanese culture and mores - without giving too much away at this moment in time, I will try to go one better on Popper and his three worlds (sense data, the inner self and the real world out there). To these I would add a fourth - Life as it appears to the Japanese. It's life, Jim - but not as we know it. A dopo

Week Six - apologies for not getting this out yesterday. I was in meetings from 8.30 am until 8.30 pm and only started to do some real work after that. It is all about travel this week and the week just passed - I will be off toSingapore via Hong Kong tomorrow. Back in Tokyo next Wednesday so next week's letter may be from Singapore instead of Tokyo. Last weekend I finally got off my backside and went out to Nikko to see the Three Monkeys as in "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil". It was a bitof a disappointment and I might even write to the UN to have Nikko removed from the list of World Heritage Sites. 90 minutes on the train each way and a whopping US$55 for the train ticket. You also had to pay everywhere to get in to see anything. Eventually, I got pissed off at the Shrine of the Sleeping Cat and asked the nice lady selling tickets "what business do I have with a sleeping cat?" - which was the original Zen koan or riddle - but she didn't get it and just smiled. Go figure. Food and drink - not an exciting week by any means and it would have been difficult to trump the week before in any event. Best I could muster was a Leeuwin Estate 2000 Chardonnay followed by a Vasse Felix Shiraz 2001. Over-oaked and a little short on the finish on both these Margaret River wines but the sizzling scallops, soft-shelled crabs and steaks which accompanied the wines were very good though. Not to mention the G&T before as well as the caipirinha and 20-year old Taylor's afterwards. Finally, I have made good my promise to Elisabeth M and have started on my report on Japanese culture and mores - I've decided to call it"Expression/Repression". I will work on it on the plane this week and next. It's take-away sushi and the DVD of Lost in Translation this evening - can't wait.

Week Seven - just got back to Tokyo late last night. It was so strange to get off the plane and think of a place in Tokyo which serves as a sort of home. I was wondering if I had remembered to take my clothes out of the dryer before I left and if there was anything to eat in the fridge. Stuff like that - so weird. Makes you think what home means - is that where I live (literally) at the moment, where I have been living for the last seven years, where my family live? At least I know where my spiritual home is (andI have said it elsewhere) - Rome and nothing else comes even close. First, a few film reviews. Watched "Lost in Translation" before I flew last week and that is definitely two thumbs down. The only things worth mentioning (no not even Scarlett Johansson and pace Anna who has met MrMurray) were the synchronicity issues (I live under the shadow of Tokyo tower) and the "Lip my stocking" gag - no cigar. Surprise of the week was"The Last Samurai" - I know, I know ... Tom Cruise vehicle, blockbuster crap but at least I had fun watching it on the plane and it has my new/current favourite line from a big budget, low-brow movie (almost as good as anything from "Dangerous Liaisons" or "Top Gun"): "You could spend your entire life looking for a perfect cherry blossom andyou may never find it - but it would not have been a wasted life ..." Travel - flew to Hong Kong for a day and then on to Singapore. I am saving stories from Monday onwards of this week for next week's letter (which will be the last in this series as I will flying home (arrgh! that word again) to London latest by Friday the 14th. This is the penultimate letter from out here but I am tempted to write a letter from London for my friends who do not live in London). Saw Simon in HK, Anth and Betty on Friday, Edward then Sze Hui on Saturday as well as the boys on Sunday. My thanks to everybody for looking after me and arranging dinners and drinks. Hong Kong is cleaner than the last time I remembered thanks to SARS but the economic upswing inChina has meant that HK is once again a building site which reminded me about the worst bits of my time there and convinced me that I could probably not live there again. Been there, done the party until dawn thing and bought the cheap T-shirts but thanks and not again. Food and drink - again fairly varied. The highlight was the Chateau Prieure Lichine 1998 (thanks to Tai Shin) which was rather firm for a Margaux (trust the monks - this is from vines which were originally part of the vineyards of the Benedictine Priory in Cantenac and now about 170 acres yielding 25,000 cases per year) and given its proximity to Chateau Palmer surprisingly supple and not very tannic. A little lacking on structure and slightly short on length. Very berry characteristics as well as a hint of currant and herbs (I know I should use the word "vegetal" but I just cannot bring myself to). Other anoraky facts - 4th Growth under the 1855 classification, 52% Cabernet Sauvignon, 31% Merlot, 12% Cabernet Franc and5% Petit Verdot. Best left in cellar for another year or so. One more week to go before I return to London - I have not done as much as I thought I would but the change of scene has been better for me than I ever thought possible. In a bizarre way, I am more positive about everything thanI have ever been in the last two years and the thought which occupies my mind at the moment is - did I just go through a mid-life crisis and not realise it? And what about the 18 year-old girlfriend or the red Ferrari? Makes it almost worth going through another mid-life crisis just for the toys ...

Week Eight - this may be the last letter of this season. It is getting to belike the last episode from "Friends" but unlike the sitcom - there may still be a chance of further seasons of letters from Tokyo but who knows? I am thinking of doing a Letter from London for the friends I have made in Tokyo but it would not be the same - so it will probably not be happening. Actually, half of last week was spent in Singapore - Monday night was a wine and cheese (and salami) session at HJ and Sandra's (see below) and Tuesdaywas Peranakan food at Joo Chiat followed by caipirinhas and kamikazes at Embargo. Most of Wednesday was spent in planes but I really like the CathayPacific lounge at HK airport - all granite and slate plus all the magazines you'd ever want to take away (to read on the plane, ostensibly). Everything else about Cathay Pacific was pretty dire - the seats were falling apart, the in-flight entertainment was rubbish (no video on demand even in Business Class) and the wines were appalling (see below). Got the weekend completely wrong - spent Saturday shopping for toys for the little Swansons thinking I would get better photographs on Sunday but it poured. I got the toys but no photos - so (as usual) my last weekend inTokyo ends not with a bang but a whimper. However, it was really nostalgic in my neighbourhood toy store as they stocked the largest display ofPlaymobil figures (remember them? Next to Porsches, the best bit of engineering to have come out of Deutschland) I have seen in decades. I am thinking of starting a collection again ... Food and drink - complained bitterly about the horrible wines on CathayPacific (with one exception - on the HK-Singapore legs, they served Billecart-Salmon which was much better than the Deutz to and from Tokyo) and I really don't see the point of serving bad, young Bordeaux and Burgundy when for the same price they could do much better with Italian, Aussie or Chilean wines. So highlight of the week was definitely not on the planes but rather a quite subtle Snoqualmie Special Reserve Syrah 2000 at HJ and Sandra's. This was a Washington state Syrah and halfway between Old Worldand New - slightly drier than the typical Australian Shiraz but still containing big mouthfuls of plum and apricot fruit. Reminds me a little ofthe South of France Mediterranean coast blends near the Rhone estuary towards the Eastern end of the Languedoc but I actually prefer this - reasonably structured with a fair amount of glycerol towards the end of the middle after the attack of the big fruit and before the tannins (medium finish - no more) kick in. Allora, a few parting shots. I have massively underachieved in Tokyo in terms of fulfilling the plans I made when I (reluctantly) agreed to come out to Tokyo - probably done no more than a quarter of the things I told myselfI wanted to do. Like go to Kyoto, ride the bullet train, visit the fishmarket at Tsukiji, climb Mount Fuji, go to a hot spring and so on. E con cio? Lots of small, unexpected things have happened instead and I am glad they did. People I have met have been nicer and kinder than I thought would bethe case and from a big, big picture perspective, it has been a time of contemplation and non-morbid reflection (which is rare for me). Walkabout time - I have never been a good traveller and like the fussier Merlot blends have had a tendency to delicate preciousness (not a good thing). Operating out of the comfort zone and having to deal with the unfamiliar has made me remember that once I was a road warrior (albeit a reluctant one, as ever). I've finally understood the cherry blossom thing and that life is random, short and frequently brutal but if we can get through another season until the next time the cherry blossoms fall, then we would have done well. I have bumped into or spoken with people I had never expected to meet or speak to again and heard about mutual friends as well - time and life out here in the East seems to follow a different rhythm but no one seems to notice. Plus ca change .... So life is a box of chocolates - I just seem to get the coconut ones and I hate coconut but you just have to keep on eating until you find a white chocolate filled with cream. Consumatum est.