Japan Day Two: Tokyo Art Galleries And A Surprisingly Ill-Served Meal, 21 October 2018

That feeling of jet lag and the realisation that we aren’t quite as young as we used to be hit us this morning. We had done a vast amount the day before and most unusually both slept on to surprise ourselves at around 9:00, at which point we got our skates on for breakfast.

Stunning view from our room at The Park

Daisy in particular went into slow-down mode, so we didn’t get out until 11:30/11:45. Still, we had planned a more modest itinerary for today, not least because we knew we’d need some evening time to get our luggage sorted out ahead of tomorrow’s sojourn to Tsumago while our main luggage will go to Takayama.

Daisy had been obsessing the last few days about Yayoi Kusama who has had a new museum dedicated to her work open in Tokyo recently, but which seems to be an utter sell out. We tried, the concierge tried, we knew that some of Daisy’s high-falutin’ clients had tried and failed…

My suggestion was that we go to the MOMAT (Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo), not least in search of Yayoi Kusama but in any case to see the modern art more generally. (Spoiler alert – we found one Yayoi Kusama art work there plus an excellent book about her).

Actually the MOMAT was well worth seeing generally – spanning the early modern period to the present day and showing the work of some Western artists who had influenced or been influenced by Japanese artists, as well as mostly Japanese work.

Too many dicks, not enough Yayoi Kusamas (just this one)

After MOMAT, we strolled along the top of the Imperial Palace Gardens for 15 minutes or so to avoid changing metro lines and to see some Tokyo Sunday life.

That neighbourhood was jogger central on a Sunday – some sort of organised thing from what we could gather. The first batch that whizzed past us were running space cadet style. The ones Daisy eventually photographed were less than special joggers who did not look as though they were enjoying themselves.

Then on to the Nezu Museum, in an up-market looking neighbourhood. If Ginza is Piccadilly, then that area, Minato, is perhaps Sloane-Chelsea.

The Nezu Museum has a beautiful garden…

…and we were really in luck regarding the displays, as a fascinating exhibition about tea paraphernalia had opened the previous day; Momoyama Tea Utensils: A New View. Perhaps for that reason, there were a great many women dressed in traditional costume at the Museum that day. Daisy discreetly photographed them, although didn’t quite capture the strange sight of these traditional-look people taking selfies and consulting iPads.

The Nezu Cafe was a delight in terms of its look and the charming service. Lovely tea (ironically green tea not available – also sold out of most cakes!) but a truly stylish cafe with sweet staff.

Then back to Ginza. While we were taking tea, Daisy had an inspired idea to make it a one meal late afternoon/early evening day, so we’d get home in good time to pack and enjoy a quiet evening.

We chose Gonpachi; one of the recommended restaurants in our Audley pack. We fancied trying the grills – we hadn’t really tried those yet. Finding the place allowed us to see a bit more of Ginza – it really is a huge shopping district.

A big eatery although not very full at 17:00 on a Sunday – Gonpachi certainly had a buzz about it but my goodness we had terrible service.  OK food – if or when it arrived – but truly poor service. Our first disappointment was to spot Kukuni – slow cooked belly pork – on the menu, only to be told that it was off today. Fair enough – we’ll search high and low for Kukuni for the next couple of weeks doubtless.

Yes, we have no Kukuni

We ordered a stack of other things, seemingly well advised by a waiter who told us the recommended sequence for serving our dishes, But when our order came, some of our grills (the chicken skin ones) came they not. Nor did they tempura come, which had been promised before the grills. When we raised this point, we were told that the chicken skins were off today (but they had taken that as part of our order) and that the tempura would be five more minutes. Eventually it came. Then we waited for our soba noodles…and waited and waited. Eventually we asked and were told it would be five minutes.

Eventually…

No apologies or attempts to put matters right for us in any other way. Gonpachi – remember the name. The place must have gone down hill since Tim or James from Audley recommended it.

No real harm done, though, we went home to pack and relax ahead of tomorrow’s journey. We’d had a great day.

All the pictures from Day Two can be seen by clicking the Flickr link  here or below:

 

Japan Day One: Tokyo, 20 October 2018

We did a pretty good job of sleeping at appropriate hours, given the time difference, assisted by a very large, comfortable bed.

We both took a relatively light breakfast – we’d had a pretty substantial meal the evening before – see day Zero report – click here or below:

Japan Day Zero: Journey To Tokyo And Our First Evening There, 18 to 19 October 2018

I had croissants, yoghurt and fruit. Daisy had egg and toast.

Then we met our guide for the morning, Keiko. First up, she wanted to check all the tickets I had already been issued, then sort out with us getting the rail card authorised and seat reservations made for those elements that couldn’t be arranged for us in advance. In amongst all that, she was to explain how the PASMO card worked and how we might get around and eventually away from Tokyo.

What a palaver that turned out to be.

Before we met Keiko, I thought I understood most of it and also thought that the nice lady at the airport had explained the tricky bits of it to me. Then Keiko got going. Daisy took some photographs of this process which probably tell the story far better than words.

Hunched shoulders suggest the onset of tension

Jacket removal is also a worrying sign
Special pleading?
“In which case, what the blithering **** is this one?”
“We locals find it complicated too”, pleads Keiko.

Eventually we were ready to set off for Tokyo station, where we could get our rail passes authorised and seat reservations made and start out orientation tour of Tokyo.

Keiko showed us the subterranean world underneath our hotel and much of the surrounding area; not that you need to use the subterranean part quite so much but she was very keen to show us the route we need to follow the day we leave Tokyo, which did sort of make sense.

It was our good fortune that, while we woke to a rather cloudy looking day, by the time we emerged at Tokyo station the sun had come out, Even more so when we emerged again from Tokyo station with our rail passes and reservations – another minor palaver not least because the official seemed very keen for me to fill in the forms while standing, using only a flimsy plastic clip board for support. My handwriting is bad enough at the best of times and I insisted, in a rather inappropriately forceful, Western style I imagine, on having something more substantial to lean upon.

Bureaucracy satisfied, Keiko suggested that we look at the gardens around the Imperial Palace area, which was in easy walking distance from Tokyo station. Given the now glorious weather, that seemed a very sensible next move.

The outer gardens are rather charming sculpted fountains and the like. Then we went to the Eastern Garden, which is more like a London park in size and density of foliage. Very different look of course.

Keiko tried to explain the history of the place, the Edo period etc., together with the symbolism of many of the gates and carvings around the place. Janie found that a bit dense for a stroll in the park and spent much of the time, when not looking at the glorious greenery, plotting the next stage of our Tokyo day – which mostly involved seeing some trendy neighbourhoods recommended by her/our good friend Anthea.

Keiko was happy to sponsor (and indeed took great pains to tell us that she had a budget for) a taxi ride to our chosen location and some refreshments once we got there. So we taxi-rode to Harajuku, where we landed at Tokyo Plaza and went up to the Starbucks roof garden, to enjoy our traditional western-style drinks in a youthful environment.

By this stage of the proceedings, I was flying with my wireless internet connection and Mr Google, so we really felt that Keiko had completed her assignment – which was just as well because four hours had pretty much gone by. She stuck around with us, enjoying the drinks I think, before we said goodbye to her as I was making a bee-line for one of two ramen places that Mr Goggle told me were hot in the alleys nearby.

Oreryu was my top pick and it turned out to be a very good one. You choose your main ingredients on a machine which takes your money and vends only tickets. Janie chose roast pork ramen, I chose ramen with fried chicken.

Then a hostess/waitress takes your tickets and asks you several questions regarding the style of noodle-cooking (we chose medium), type of stock (we chose chicken) and in my case garnish (spinach). We queued on benches outside, then were stewarded to share a table with other noodle-slurpers.

Apart from a tiny mishap with my chicken pieces…

…which came so soon after my request (with much apology) they must have already been prepared for me, just not delivered, the meal was a resounding success in terms of flavour and service. Rather more than we intended to eat for lunch, but a superb meal.

Refreshed, we went in search of Brahms Path, which Anthea had recommended as an antidote to the heaving neighbourhoods that are Harajuku and Shibuya-Ku.

Indeed, once we strayed onto the main strip, Takeshita Street, we realised why Anthea recommended for us the maze of alleyways – with second-hand shops and other Portobello/Camden Lock-like treasures. All was worth seeing of course, including the heaving crowds on the main stretches.

Then we strolled back through the alleyways (ignoring Mr Google for once, who was keen for us to take the main strip) to find Shibuya Crossing, said to be the most crowded, shambolic crossing of all – although the one by Tokyo Plaza seemed, to us, perhaps a tad more manic. Judge for yourselves from the photos. Daisy was in her element here, clicking away.

Then the train to Ginza, to see the contrast with up-market shops. We checked out Matsuya, one of the better-known department stores.

“Pedestrianised” usually means “for walkers”, but in Ginza it also attracts “sitters”.

Then strolled with purpose in the direction of Ginza Six. I had read about the roof garden views and guessed that Ginza Six might also be a suitable place for some much needed (in my case) refreshment.

Like the mighty hunter that I am, I spotted my quarry and started to make a bee-line for Ginza Six.  “Oh look, Uniqlo”, said Daisy, thwarting my plans for imminent views and refreshment.

Uniqlo in Ginza is a massive store which apparently sells stuff that Daisy likes. Several agonising floors, heaving with people and stewards trying to get people in, to their chosen floor and our again, later, Daisy had achieved her purpose. Along the way, several trial and errors in search of the desired garments, then I ended up a fair wad (although a much smaller wad than would have been the case in London) lighter. We emerged again, heads spinning, just in time to get to Ginza Six and see the rooftop garden at dusk. Well worth seeing – we got several good shots of Uniqlo across the way, ironically.

Refreshments tasted that much better for the extra wait. Then we headed back to the Park Hotel by foot, just as it started to drizzle with rain.

Mr Weather-app told us that the drizzle might turn to proper wet rain later, so we chose to stay in the hotel that evening (we weren’t that hungry) and snack on small bites in the Art Cafe in our hotel.

The lovely Ieva looked after us again, as did a funky waiter who helped us to enjoy some Japanese wine – a very unusual but subtle Chardonnay – Golch from  Koshu and a Cabernet Sauvignon Tatikarao from Miyazaki, which includes some wild indigenous grapes that makes that blackberry-like flavour of Cabernet Sauvignon really shine through.

A truly super day.

All the pictures from Days Zero and One can be seen by clicking the Flickr link  here or below:

 

Japan Day Zero: Journey To Tokyo And Our First Evening There, 18 to 19 October 2018

18 October 2018

We set off from Noddyland late afternoon. Daisy’s packing for this holiday was epic; the case was so heavy we couldn’t even weigh it to conclude that it was overweight until we had removed enormous quantities of extraneous lotions and potions.

At one point Daisy decided that she was never, ever, ever going to travel again, while I decided that I would never, ever, ever travel again with her.

Yet somehow we got the weight down (partly by balancing between her iron-clad case and my feather-light bag), so off we set – perhaps not for the very last time.

An event free journey, really. ANA was a very luxurious way to fly – the evening meal in particular was superb…

Amuse:

  • Cherry tomato caprese style;
  • Crab meat salad stuffed baby paprika;
  • Tandoori chicken with sour cream

We both chose Japanese Cuisine – Washoku

Zensai (A selection of morsels)

  • Grilled scallop with egg yolk;
  • Marinated thinly-sliced salmon head cartilage in bonito-vinegar sauce;
  • Chinese yam rolled with smoked salmon
  • Grilled welsh onion rolled with duck

Kobachi (Tasty titbits)

  • Dressed vegetables with tofu paste

Nimono (Simmered plate)

  • Simmered taro and eggplant in soy-based sauce
Top notch airplane grub

Shusai

  • Simmered sea bream in soy-based sauce

Steamed rice, miso soup, and Japanese pickles

Deserts, Cheese, Fruits

19 October 2018

The breakfast/lunch meal was a bit of a bland let-down after the feast that was dinner – a Kobachi of simmered brown algae in soy-based sauce and a Shusai of Japanese sake-lees grilled salmon with steamed rice, miso soup & Japanese pickles.

We arrived in the afternoon Tokyo time feeling quite travel weary.

Daisy’s running joke for the journey had been a rather greedy, small man sitting next to us who kept asking for two portions of everything  When we got off the plane he even had two items of hand luggage. We got our main baggage before his had arrived, but no doubt he had at least two big bags, perhaps more?

We were met at the airport by a rather nice lady who talked me through all the passes, vouchers and rail tickets that had been pre-booked for us and explained that tomorrow’s guide would sort out the rest of them. What seemed like several hours later, we were whisked away to our hotel, the Park, which, being in the South-Eastern hotel district, was a mercifully short ride from the airport.

We showered and I slept for a couple of hours before we built up the courage to brave the Hanasanshou Japanese restaurant located inside our hotel. We tried the chef’s recommended dinner which is an excellent tour d’horizon of Japanese food. The quality was high and the service charming too. When Daisy came and sat beside me for a few minutes while we awaited our food, they decided we wanted to sit next to each other and moved another table across so we could do so. Very sweet, we thought.

The excellent Chef’s Recommended Meal can be seen on this link.

The waiter is obviously a sake-sommelier in training. He recommended a couple of really nice sakes which accompanied the food really well.

The excellent sakes were Kirabi (from Toyama – went well with the fish courses) and Abukuma (from Kukishima – went well with the meats).

At the end of the meal we chatted for a while with Ieva, a charming young woman from Lithuania who is the food and beverage front of house at the Park Hotel.

We’d arrived.

A Mere Evening With John White, Ahead Of John’s Regeneration The Very Next Day, 15 October 2018

The headline is a misnomer pun, because no evening with John is ever mere. I spent an evening with John at Mere Restaurant.

All the grub is tremendously well presented and tastes at least as good as it looks…perhaps better

Janie and I had spotted this place when we thought we’d eat out for John and Mandy’s most recent London visit, which ended up being dinner in Noddyland…

Dinner In Noddyland With John And Mandy, 29 June 2018

…although Mere was in any case fully booked at the weekend many weeks ahead of time. But I had more luck at relatively short notice for a Monday evening with John.

Both of us are really glad that I recalled liking the look of Mere and booked it. The food, service, presentation, everything was top notch. John and I agreed that this was one of the very best meals we’ve had in London.

What did we eat? – I hear you cry.

  • John started with Pumpkin: Pumpkin Filled Agnolotti, Mixed Mushrooms, Marmite Emulsion
  • I started with Octopus: A la Plancha’, Caper & Raisin Dressing, Potato, Piperade
  • John progressed to Cornish Cod: Black Curry, Pickled Celery, Hazelnut Dukka, Lovage Sauce
  • I progressed to Pigeon: Roast Breast, Braised Leg, Lardo, Girolles, Pedro Ximenez Sauce
  • The above was all washed down with a well-chosen bottle of Sancerre – one with more oak and fruitiness than I would normally associate with Sancerre and spot on for the diverse dishes – thank you Mr Sommelier.
  • After a suitably long pause to chat, mull the world’s problems and finish the wine, we moved on to
  • …in John’s case Cheese: Selection of Four Artisan Cheeses , Fresh Figs & Jam, Seeded Cracker
  • In my case Hokey Pokey: Manjari Cremeux, Salted Toffee, Honeycomb Ice Cream, L&P Gel
  • The sommelier also did us proud with drinks to accompany our afters; in John’s case a white port, in my case an intriguing sherry that went surprisingly well with a chocolate desert.

You can see menus and things through this link.

There was an element of skittishness to our mood. I questioned (between ourselves) whether the much lauded Samoan chocolate came from Western Samoa or Eastern Samoa.

John’s view was that there is no such place as Eastern Samoa. Technically now, of course, there is no such place as Western Samoa either. Obviously I was trying to distinguish between the two main islands of Samoa, the more westerly Savai’i and the more easterly (and more populous) Upolu. Answer from John there came none.

John added to his self-confessed spacial challenges by confessing that he keeps a little chart of the cricket fielding positions at hand when he listens to cricket on the radio, as he finds the names of the leg-side fielding positions confusing.

By Py0alb – in powerpoint, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=27694084

To be honest, I was pretty impressed that John is now taking that much interest in the cricket. Who knew? I’d better get him to a match again soon enough. But I digress.

We also discussed some serious subjects, such as the dire state of UK politics. We wondered whether occasional fine dining detracted from our left-leaning credentials. We thought it probably didn’t, but agreed a pact along MAD lines not to denounce each other. John then told me that he was to give evidence to a House of Lords select committee the next day, on the regeneration of seaside towns.

I’m an old hand at such appearances of course, having done two on Brexit in the past couple of years:

The Lords, Then Lord’s, Plus A Coincidental Segue Between The Two, 1 February 2018

I got some intriguing notices for my second appearance – click here for those.

But I’m digressing again.

John’s appearance can be seen through this link or the embedded vid below starting at 16:11:53:

I must admit that my mind wandered skittishly a few times as I watched – the regeneration of seaside towns is not at the forefront of my interests/concerns at the moment – other than naturally taking an interest in a good pal’s work – so the following questions and answers passed through my mind:

  • Does John show any signs of a tremendous but slightly over-indulgent evening meal the night before? No;
  • Should John’s evidence session be re-titled “Peers On Piers”? Yes – unquestionably;
  • When the chap from the British Association of Leisure Parks, Piers and Attractions and the chap from the National Piers Society meet, is that pier-to-pier networking? Yes – what else?;
  • When the Lords form a select committee on the regeneration of seaside towns, have they done so as a last resort? I’m afraid so, yes;
  • Are there other good puns about this topic that I can’t think up right now? Let the court of public opinion – i.e. the Ogblog readership, decide.

Anyway, we’ll quite possibly be returning to Mere one day – especially when the girls read about what they have missed. A Mere tremendous evening.

Ode To Eurosceptics – 2018 Version, Lyric For Actor’s Workshop or NewsRevue or Whoever, 14 October 2018

I haven’t written a topical lyric for years, but was prompted to update one of my old lyrics when I visited The Actor’s Workshop in Halifax a couple of weeks ago…

A Visit To Halifax To See A Revival Of Casablanca The Musical & The Ward Family, 26 September 2018

…and discovered that they still have a New Year’s Revels revue there each year and even still use some of my old lyrics. Chatting with Luke, who now stewards that show, we agreed how difficult it is to parody Brexit and some of the “beyond parody” events of the news in the last couple of years. I had a similar chat with Emma from NewsRevue when I saw her a few days later, who agreed.

Anyway, one of my old NewsRevue songs, Ode To Eurosceptics from 1996, popped into my head last night and then onto my screen…

Ode To Eurosceptics, Topical Lyric, 18 June 1996

…and I thought it might still work if updated/rewritten for the modern era. Here goes:

♬ ODE TO EUROSCEPTICS – 2018 VERSION (To the Tune of “Ode To Joy”) ♬

CHORUS – MP’s

ALL: At Westminster in the commons,
Craving for the cabinet;
Wasting power with Theresa,
Seen our chance of grabbing it.
BLOKES: Gove and Moggster,
GIRL 1: (shouting) I’M ARLENE FOSTER,
GIRL 2: (pointing at Arlene) Paisley without the testicles;
ALL: We shall beef all through next summer,
We’re the Euroscepticals.

ALL: Take a punt on,
Absurd Boris Johnson;
He’s like a dog that has two dicks;
(We’ll) bore you shitless ’til next Christmas,
We’re the Euroscepticists.

Yup – still works as a comedic quickie I think. It’s the reality of the politics that has become far less funny in the past 20+ years.

Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike

I’m happy for anyone to use the above lyric royalty free with a request for (but not insistence upon) attribution.

Below is a vid with the Ode To Joy being sung, including the lyrics and an English translation on the screen:

Formal Launch Of the London Cricket Trust, Seven Kings Park, 4 October 2018

I have been looking forward to the formal launch of our cricket charity, the London Cricket Trust, for many months. We had an informal launch a few months ago at Lord’s, reported here…

An Afternoon Of Small Scale Events At Lord’s, 2 July 2018

We chose Seven Kings Park in the Borough of Redbridge as the venue, because we have put a full suite of new facilities into that park. So we needed to wait for all that work to be completed ahead of a full media launch.

The day had finally arrived.  I needed to go into the city afterwards and also needed to get Dumbo (my car) in for service:

Dumbo – a pint-sized Chelsea tractor…more like a Chelsea tricycle really

Coincidentally, taking Dumbo in for service often seems to coincide with cricket-related days:

A Middlesex Second XI v Lancashire Second XI match report (from 2016)

But I digress.

Point is, I went to the gym, drove out west to the house, then to drop Dumbo at the garage and then commuted to Newbury Park…which I imagined might take a heck of a lot longer than it did take. So I got to Newbury Park ludicrously early.

On emerging from the station, I started fiddling with my map-app to work out what to do next; a non-trivial matter in getting from Newbury Park to Seven Kings Park. A pair of suited and booted people, one male, one female, had also emerged and were carefully studying a large (A3) colour map. I guessed that they might be visiting dignitaries on the way to the same event, so I asked them where they were going.

“Regal House” said the man, turning the map one way up and then the other in bemusement. “Can’t make out one end of this road from another.”

I glanced at his upside down map and noticed “Regal House” clearly marked on the map, about 300 yards to our right just along the main road.

“You need to go that way”, I said, pointing, “I think it’s just past that building, there”.

Some 45 years after earning my cub scout map reading badge, the skills are still coming in handy.

Buoyed by my success and the fact that I had already done one good deed for the day, I got my head around the map-app and strode towards Seven Kings Park, arriving a mere, Dicky Bird-like, 45 minutes early.

I wasn’t the first Trustee to arrive; Chris Swadkin had made an even more cautious time allowance for his journey from Kent.

The new Seven Kings Park nets

There had been a distinctly autumnal (indeed, even misty/mizzly/drizzly) feel to the early part of the day, but the sun started to show its face and then came  out full glow just in time for our joyous launch.

Soon there was a melange of cricketers, dignitaries, media folk and a small army of schoolchildren for the launch. Ed Griffiths doesn’t organise things by halves.

The speeches were brief, to the point and note perfect. In particular, Jas Athwal, the head of Redbridge Council, spoke with great passion about growing up in that neighbourhood and playing in the Park. His hope is that these facilities help inspire youngsters to play and love cricket as he does. Jas recorded a version of his message in a short video later in the morning:

Jas’s reminiscences of playing in that park as a kid reminded me a little of my own, albeit on the other side of London and albeit Jas did not go into details about the players he tried to emulate…

Back When I Didn’t Know My Asif From My Sarfraz, Cricket On Tooting Bec Common, Summer 1974

…actually, now I come to think about it, Jas did mention his heroes. In particular, Jas mentioned Bishen Bedi. I remember trying to emulate Bedi too, in the summer of 1974. I could manage the loop but not the spin and certainly not the inch-perfect accuracy. But I digress.

Leshia Hawkins, who heads up the ECB’s participation and growth team for London, spoke from the heart about the initiative and how helpful it has been for the four London-based counties (Essex, Kent, Middlesex and Surrey) to come together, with the ECB, to progress community cricket in this way.

Forhad Hussain (the Essex Trustee) spoke briefly on behalf of us Trustees, emphasising the collaborative nature of the initiative, while Dawid Malan said a few kind words on behalf of the county players who had turned out to help make the day special.

Since I started drafting this piece, there is now an official London Cricket Trust short video about the launch, which I have embedded below:

Somehow I have found my way into both videos, albeit very briefly. 15 seconds of fame; perhaps less.

When the players, most of the coaches and kids gathered at one end of the new non-turf pitch for the press shoot, we were left with a fairly large gaggle of schoolkids and one coach at the other end, so I took on the wicket-keeping duties.

I tried to crouch, catch and stump like Alan Knott…

…although I probably looked more like a clumsy git trying to do the policemen’s dance in When The Foeman Bares His Steel…

…not least because I was wearing one of my smartest lounge suits rather than cricket clobber.

Still, I was taking the ball surprisingly well and was only denied several stumpings by an over-zealous ECB official (who shall remain nameless) consistently shaking her head rather than raising the finger at square leg. Does she not realise that those schoolkids were not there to gain encouragement, nor were they to enjoy themselves at cricket; surely they were there to have their characters built in the school of hard knocks that only cricket at its cruellest can provide?

Personally, I got completely lost in the fun of actually playing cricket; when I eventually looked around I realised that the dignitaries, cricketers, media folk and my fellow trustees had all gone, leaving just me, the coaches, the kids and the teachers.

I was five minutes late for the Trustees meeting we had scheduled to take place in the pavilion after the launch. Not my style, to be late for such a transparently frivolous reason, but I think I might have been forgiven in these special circumstances.

We’ve had plenty of media coverage with still more promised (at the time of writing, less than a week after the event).

This search term – click here – should find most of the media coverage.

Ed Griffiths has produced an early stage media review – click here – it takes a while to load.

Our most prized bit of media so far comes in the form of social media – specifically a retweet by AB de Villiers to his six-million-plus followers:

It’s hard to express what a special day this was. I can hardly wait until we can do some more of these launches. We’ll be putting in dozens of facilities across London over the next couple of years, so I’ll be putting my hand up and no doubt going to quite a few.

Another Day, Another Guinness World Record Broken, Goodenough College, 8 October 2018

I am no stranger personally to breaking Guinness World Records, as explained and illustrated in the following piece…

Ultimate Love and Happy Tories, Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner, Café Rouge Holborn, 3 March 2017

…and (perhaps less plausibly) I did claim another world record as a child, along with Paul Deacon, recorded for all posterity in my diary. This earlier claim has caused some controversy amongst the Alleyn’s School alumni:

Breaking The World Record For Coin Catching With Paul Deacon, Woodfield Avenue, 30 December 1974

So, when my business partner, Michael Mainelli, announced that, in his capacity as Master of the World Traders, he had decreed that the Guiness World Record for the most nationalities simultaneously singing a pop song was to be broken on his watch, I thought I should lend my considerable experience of world-record breaking to the enterprise. Especially as part of the purpose was to raise some money for charity.

Michael, looking masterfully iconoclastic

The world-record attempt was to be made in conjunction with Goodenough College (a wise and practical move given the size of the college’s hall and its international residency characteristics).

The extant record is (was) 72 nationalities, which doesn’t sound difficult to beat until you try. 

My attempts to coerce some of the rarer nationalities to Bloomsbury on the promise of refreshments and a chance to be a record breaker had very limited success.

However, I did turn up myself in my capacity as an Estonian E-Resident as well as a UK national. Whether my E-Residency will count or not is in the hands of the official authenticators. It is on a short list of “others” which might or might not count. But we believe we have kicked the extant record deep into touch even if none of the “others” are accepted. .. (Update: the e-residency didn’t count – but my attendance still counts of course). 

Yo!

The first part of the evening was a bit like trying to get through immigration at Heathrow after our beloved Prime Minister has had her bureaucratic way with Brexit. Everyone needed to register, have their nationality documents copied, witnessed, verified…

…only then could you complete the maze and enter the large hall where the sing-along took place.

…but without the chairs

Even then, we were all put through a further confirming, counting and segmenting into bite-sized zones to enable stewards and witnesses to confirm that we were all singing. We had over 200 people singing, representing up to 87 nationalities (including the three or four odd-bods like me) – well north of the previous record of 72.

But, despite the bureaucracy, it proved to be a great fun evening. There were lots of people I know there and I got to meet some new people too.

The choir-mistress got us to do some excellent warming up exercises to ensure that our minds, bodies and lungs were all to be working at full pelt when we went for the record.

Warming Up – photo borrowed from the World Traders Tweet

I was at the far end of the room – you can probably see three or four pixels of me in the above photo.

Then we practiced by singing “I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing”. I remember, even as a small child, finding that song cheesy. Yet it still turns out to be even cheesier than I remembered it:

Then we warmed up some more with Mamma Mia – another cheesy song but one with more communal fun singing characteristics:

But the actual world-record attempt song was Imagine, which we practiced once and then sang in full, even repeating the third verse to make absolutely sure that we exceeded three minutes, a required factor for our record it seems:

Actually, when we performed Imagine the second time – i.e. for the formal record-breaking attempt, it was a very moving experience. I think we all felt a sense of international cameradie and in the end we linked arms and swayed to the rhythm of our singing.

After the record attempt, the choir-mistress led us in another Mamma Mia to let off steam.

Then drinks. Plenty of them.

There were rumours on the night that a commercial enterprise was going to trying to break the very same record the next night. Indeed they sent some spies who tried to recruit singers from our event, which felt a bit sleazy to me. Anyway, word is, that those chancers only reached the 72 previously achieved and that our record should be confirmed.

We should learn quickly if/that our effort has been confirmed as a new world record. We ‘re quietly confident. I’ll update this posting once we know. Until then, you’ll have to imagine.

Update: the world record was confirmed and extolled some three week’s later while Janie and I were in Japan meditating atop a holy mountain.

Yo!

Middlesex End Of Season Bash, Lord’s Nursery Pavilion, 5 October 2018

This event just seems to get better and better each year.

I started my end of season day at Lord’s, as in recent previous years, with a game of real tennis ahead of the lunch.

My task was to play against a relative newbie, to whom I gave a massive handicap – he started each game on 30 while I started on owe 15. That is quite a challenge for a clumsy clot like me who can make racket errors at the drop of a bandanna. I was pleased to achieve a one-set-all draw on that basis.

Mick Hunt, the Lord’s groundsman who is retiring this autumn, brought a couple of visitors into the dedans for a while to watch us play. I told him that I could have done with him leaving a bit more grass on the surface, as I am more experienced at lawn tennis than real tennis. I think he got the joke.

Then to the Middlesex drinks reception. The sun seems destined to shine on this event of late; it was a glorious day yet again and Lord’s looked a picture from the top of the Mound Stand.

I ran into Leshia Hawkins from the ECB, who has played a major part in the birth of the London Cricket Trust, which we launched yesterday:

Formal Launch Of the London Cricket Trust, Seven Kings Park, 4 October 2018

Leshia greeted me warmly before informing me that I might expect an ECB disciplinary warning for my conduct breaches on the field of play during the launch…well really!

Daisy (Janie), who had been around for a while, soon found me, as did Escamillo Escapillo & PD. Soon after that, we were summoned for lunch.

Always a good meal and always pleasant company at table, this event.

Lots of awards – David Fulton hosting the event.

As well as awards, there are some raffles and games.

The higher and lower game. Is Leshia hedging her bets there or still making up her mind? We might need to get the anti-corruption unit to have a look at that.

I asked Escamillo Escapillo what signal he would give from square leg if a nipper had wandered out of their crease and the wicket-keeper had stumped the nipper at lightening speed

I got nowhere with the higher and lower game, but I did apply my skills, knowledge and experience to filling in my raffle ticket accurately and legibly. So, when my card came out of the hat, I won half a case of wine. 95% luck, 5% skill, just don’t try it without the skill.

Geoff Miller speaks wittily about his career, using only a cricket bat as a prop

Geoff’s cricket bat-wielding oratory brought to mind the “Ian’s Cricket Bat” scene from the movie Spinal tap:

…but I digress.

Where were we? Oh yes, awards and speeches.

James Harris (great name) got several awards this year, including “the big ones”

Mike O’Farrell, our Middlesex Chairman, always speaks well and from the heart

After the formal proceedings had ended, Janie and I chatted for some while with Chris Goldie, Escamillo Escapillo and PD, before the sun started to set and we realise that we had, once again, enjoyed an especially long end of season lunch.

A Few Very Pleasant Evenings, 28 September, 2 October and 4 October 2018

28 September 2018 – Dinner With Deni, Tony, John & Kathleen

Early evening was my last game of real tennis at The Queen’s Club in my capacity as an MCC refugee:

Photo of me at Queens (from a different day) with opponents cut/airbrushed out

A fierce battle, it was, with a gentleman way above my pay grade, but through the wonders of the handicapping system we had a close fought match, which ended as a draw.

I thought 20 minutes would be more than enough time to get a couple of miles down the road to Deni & Tony’s house, but I hadn’t counted on the Friday night traffic combining with an accident nearby.

Yet, I arrived at the same time as Daisy, coming from the opposite direction and we really weren’t that late.

Plenty of time for drinks and nibbles before dinner.

Deni had gone to town in the kitchen, with a gazpacho soup and a salmon dish as the main. Desert was their favourite; profiteroles – it happens to be one of Daisy’s favourites too.

Tucking in good and proper

Lots of lively discussion too, trying to put the world to rights. John’s moderate views were somewhat tempered by his opinion that the only feasible route back to sensible, moderate politics might be barricades and politicians up against the wall and shot.

Everyone was on good form despite it being Friday evening and we were all surprised when the Cinderella hour struck and we said our goodbyes.

2 October 2018 Jamming Session & Dinner With DJ

Coincidentally I played real tennis (now back at Lord’s) before my next evening out; a jamming session with DJ at DJ’s place.

As I had all my tennis gear in tow as well, I decided to forego the electric instrument (which had sort-of been the plan), taking my baroq-ulele instead.

Electric-ulele – not selected for this match in the end

We tried amplifying the baroq-ulele for a while, which sounded rather interesting actually. We also mucked around with the strange assortment of songs I’ve been working on; then mucked around with a few of our favourites.

We still cannot decide which of us is ground control and which of us is Major Tom. It shouldn’t be that complicated, but it certainly is.

As always, we had a good chat and ate some good food too. An interesting bottle of Croatian red wine too – that worked wonders on my vocal chords.

4 October 2018 – Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner

It’s been a while since we had an Ivan Shakespeare dinner – this one had been rescheduled more often than a routine visit by a British Gas engineer. But at least an Ivan Shakespeare dinner is pleasant and worth the effort.

Actually not much effort for me. Jasmine had suggested we try Bill’s in Kensington, which, frankly, is a hugely convenient option for at least two of us; me and Jasmine. In truth, many of us are starting to find Cafe Rogues tedious, in terms of the food (ordinary), the service (poor) and the tedious, Byzantine rules for Christmas gatherings.

A great turnout this time, a dozen of us, including some new-old faces, such as Emma, Nelson, Neil and Sam. Plus many of the usual suspects. I mostly got to chat with Jonny Hurst, Barry Grossman, Mark Keagan and Nelson at my end of the table.

What, no quiz?

For sure the food and service was better at Bill’s. The traditional “food half an hour later than everyone else’s” game for baiting Jonny Hurst is clearly just a Cafe Rouge Holborn thing; not a standard entertainment in all restaurants. Who knew?

John Random made an executive decision that the traditional quiz would not quite work with the ambiance – we were in a very central table position.

We are all keenly awaiting Graham Robertson’s “would I lie to you?” game, but we’re starting to think that he has sold our stories for megabucks to television syndicates in the Stans and has now fled the country with his ill-gotten gains. We don’t care, we’re having a great time at these dinners without Graham and his game anyway.

Seriously, I always enjoy these gatherings and others must also do so because so many of us have been coming back for more, several times a year, since not long after the turn of the century.

Roll on the next one.