Travel – Page 3 – Ian Louis Harris

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.

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.

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.

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

“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

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.

Edinburgh Day Seven: The Approach by Mark O’Rowe, Tremor by Brad Birch, Extinguished Things by Molly Taylor & Dinner Again At Roseleaf, 23 August 2018

This, our final day, started not so well, when I discovered that I had made a cock-up of our booking and that we were due to check out of our flat a day earlier than I thought; totally my own fault and a first time for me at this level of upcock. As luck would have it, the next occupant had been differently irritating by deciding at the last minute to arrive the morning after rather than that afternoon, so it was easy to make a bullet-dodging arrangement to stay on, as long as we could leave early the next day, which was in any case our plan/desire.

Again it rained in the morning, so we couldn’t play tennis and instead sorted ourselves out and had the last of the hunker-down food from the Farmers’ Market for breakfast. I had most of the splendid smoked trout while Janie enjoyed most of the remaining giant free range eggs.

As it turned out, this day then became a truly excellent day of theatre. We even pretty much dodged the showers; some heavy ones peppered the day today.

Our first gig was The Approach at the Assembly Hall. We faffed around so much over breakfast and stuff that I thought at one point we might miss this play. Instead, we arrived in time to join the back of the queue – only about 10 people behind us, so ended up sitting right at the back of quite a large space – a view to which we have both become unaccustomed for many years.

P1020884 — Not that you could tell that we were at the back from this picture

The Approach is a rather cryptic play about the interaction between three women who had formerly been close but who had drifted apart as a trio, so we might have benefited from hearing it all clearly. Three fine Irish actresses, Cathy Belton, Aisling O’Sullivan and Derbhle Crotty did a superb job open the whole but we struggled to catch every word and nuance at the back. Still, after discussing the play with other people later in the day, I think the play probably tells different stories to different listeners however well you heard the actual words. Well worth seeing; Janie even said she fancied seeing it again if it comes to London – from the aspect of better seats!

We had only ourselves to blame for that seating business and would really have only had ourselves to blame if we had failed to get from the Assembly Hall to Summerhall on time, with about 100 minutes between shows to stroll that 20 minute walk. By then Janie was very much into “we need to be at the front of the queue” mode in extremis, so I talked her out of the idea of queuing outside the Roundabout from the very start of the previous show, especially as it seemed to me that there were likely to be showers still during that hour. So we went inside and had some very decent coffee and shared a chocolate brownie in the shabby-chic cafe at Summerhall.

P1020890 — It’s the cafe that was shabby-chic, you understand.

That still gave us time to join a small, orderly queue for Tremor quite early. We chatted to a nice couple and their drama student daughter in the queue. The queue never got all that long; a few dozen of us sparsely populated the Roundabout auditorium for Brad Birch’s latest play, Tremor. We’ve seen two excellent Brad Birch plays before: The Brink and Black Mountain, both at The Orange Tree. We’d spotted this one, Tremor, while at Summerhall a few days ago and had wondered whether it would be all that different from Black Mountain when we read the synopsis. In fact it was very different play; the only similarity being the gripping and suspenseful nature of Brad Birch’s writing.

Tremor is a two-handler about a couple who survived a bus crash in which most of the passengers died. But their relationship had not survived and their physical health had recovered more readily than their mental health. Each had struggled in very different ways. The play opens with the young woman Having tracked down the young man who has made a new life for himself in another town. The drama plays out in a single scene of just under an hour.

We both thought Tremor was a really superb piece of writing and acting. We chatted afterwards with several people who had been in the auditorium, including a nice pair of South African women who I’m sure we’ll see again at the fringy-venues in London.

Part of my purpose in booking Tremor was to find ourselves in the right place at the right time to try and get returns for Extinguished Things, also at Summerhall, which was one of only a couple of productions we were especially disappointed to have found were booked out when we tried to book them. Tremor finished about two hours before Extinguished Things; i.e. about an hour before you could even try and queue for returns for that show.

We made ourselves known to a very sweet-looking young woman on the box office who promised that she would remember us as “first in the queue” for that show and/but advised us to return in 45 minutes or so. It was sunny by then, so we went into the courtyard, had a drink, watched a rather charming short puppet show by Strangeface, named Beached.

Strangeface were doing this mini-show really to promote their main show, The Hit, which sounds rather interesting. We then sat and finished our drinks, getting the opportunity to congratulate the “A Fortunate Man” team, which I recognised sitting at the next table.

Then back to the Box Office for some intricate timing to ensure that we were at the front of the queue precisely one hour before Extinguished Things. We had been promised nothing; our sweet girl had informed me that some days a few tickets come back, on one occasion just one had come back and yesterday none had come back. But her eyes lit up as the returns position was revealed – precisely two tickets had come back for this evening and we were there to snap them up. Sweet success.

In the happy intervening hour (which Janie considered passing by forming a ludicrously early queue) we had a look around some of the free exhibitions at Summerhall, including a closer look at the Jean-Pierre Dutilleux tribal photographs room – one of many unlisted treasures at Summerhall. I also booked us a table at Roseleaf for our last night meal.

Was it worth all that effort to see Extinguished Things? Well, once you have set yourselves a mission like that, the answer is “yes” by definition; it would have seemed like a failure had we not seen it. In any case, we both thought it was a charming miniature piece, written and performed by Molly Taylor, about a couple who went off on holiday never to return and the narrator’s reminiscences/imaginings when she enters their now permanently deserted nest.

In truth it is a miniature piece; not the greatest piece of writing or performance we have seen. But it is beautifully written and charmingly performed by the writer. The piece gave us plenty to think about and talk about afterwards; again we found ourselves chatting with fellow audience members after the show. I’m really pleased we got to see it in the end.

Then off to Roseleaf, where Janie wanted to repeat her dose of satay prawns and skank. I shared the prawns with her and had a monkfish burger (unusual). We washed that down with a very nice Kiwi Sauvignon Blanc. Janie indulged in an Irish coffee afterwards too, which I think she might be regretting slightly as I write on the following morning just before we set off back to London.

Another really super day at the Fringe.

All of our photographs from our week away, mostly at the Edinburgh Fringe, can be seen on our Flickr album by clicking here on the picture below:

Edinburgh Day Six: Vessel by Laura Wyatt O’Keefe, Sitting by Katherine Parkinson, #Pianodrome Live & Dinner Again At The Chop House, 22 August 2018

The weather really has mostly smiled on us for this visit to Edinburgh and in a way this day was no exception. Although it was drizzling hard in the morning, preventing us from playing tennis, the forecast said that the day would brighten up for our festival visit; which it did.

So we stayed home in the morning, making the most of the flat and having a cooked breakfast at home, using up some of the provisions we had bought in for hunkering-down purposes.

After brunch, off to town to collect tickets and then get to our first show of the day; Vessel at Bristo Square. Vessel is an excellent two-hander, performed by the writer, Laura Wyatt O’Keefe together with a fine young actor, Edward Degaetano, whom we bumped into and chatted with briefly after the performance.

We thought this piece, about the abortion debate in Ireland and the effect the strong views on the issue can have on real women’s choices/lives, was a really excellent short play. It deserves a wider airing and it was a real shame that the auditorium was not full.

Our next show was at the Teviot with just over an hour between shows; plenty of time to pop across the way to Checkpoint for some reasonably refined refreshment and for me to start getting interested in the Middlesex score as the chance of a highly unlikely win started to emerge.

On to the Teviot (what a grand looking Students’ Union that place is!) to see Sitting by Katherine Parkinson. This auditorium was full; probably because the play is by a known actress and had some exposure on the BBC. In truth, this was a rather contrived piece of writing about three life model sitters, apparently unconnected (although naturally connections emerge) and their relationship with an unseen and unheard artist.

The performers; James Alexandrou, Grace Hogg-Robinson and Hayley Jayne Standing all did their best to rescue the rather slow, tame and at times predictable script. The audience whopped and applauded wildly at the end; perhaps because the BBC had endorsed the production…or perhaps it was one of the better things that many in the audience had seen.

We emerged from that experience feeling a little irritated that, of the two things we had seen today, the production with bigger names behind it was getting the bigger audience and plaudits, despite being the lesser production in our view.

Irritation that Middlesex still needed a wicket to secure a win turned to joy at that win, before we moved on to have a stroll across town…

…in many ways retracing in reverse the stroll I took first thing in the morning when I visited Rohan Candappa’s show, a year ago to this very day:

A Day At The Edinburgh Fringe Festival With Old Muckers, 22 August 2017

Then we wandered around Charlotte Square for a while looking at the Book Festival and taking an ice cream in the sunshine.

Then on to the Royal Botanical Gardens for some more irritation as we were told that we couldn’t see the garden ahead of our 19:00 concert there; we would have to walk all the way round the outside from the East Gate (where the fringe app had sent us) to the West Gate. This seemed ludicrously jobsworth-like to me during the weeks of festival if the gardens choose to play host to a venue. Being told that we weren’t the first to voice this grievance did not make us feel better.

I snapped some genuinely dire cricket in Inverleith Park across the road while we waited for the Gardens to let the #Pianodrome Live audience in.

The Pianodrome itself is a fascinating piece of construction, made from 50 recycled pianos, five of which can still be played within the venue. It seats about 50 people reasonably comfortably and another 50 uncomfortably. We had made sure to get there early to get relatively comfortable seating.

A young woman in Edwardian drag with an infeasibly waxy false-tash acted as compère quite well.

Janie and I already knew that we were to see a folk musician named Sam Gillespie (one half of The Brothers Gillespie) as a substitute for a prog rock band named The Brackish and were quite happy with the swap. He was joined by Siannie Moodie who turned out to be an especially fine exponent of the Celtic harp (clàrsach). In fact they both turned out to be good instrumentalists but my goodness Sam Gillespie’s songs are dirgy and derivative. Imagine Donovan and Pete Seeger, both in a bad mood, writing songs together.

Meanwhile additional people entered late (we guessed mostly the entourage of the substitute musicians) and some of them sat just under our feet. One young man who was clearly in with the in crowd made an especially redolent impression on us. What is it about people who hang around musicians and negligence with regard to personal hygiene?

There was also another musician involved briefly who played a glockenspiel-type percussion instrument but whose name seemed to be unlisted. Janie had unwittingly snapped him during warm up, so if anyone reading this recognises this man and his instrument, please message in his details.

The act for the second half of the evening was also unlisted and the compère merely mumbled that name as we left for the interval; in our case not to return.

We fancied a nice dinner tonight and felt that we could get one of those if we were back in Leith at a reasonable hour, so I made a last minute booking of a table at The Chop House for another good red meat meal.

Again Ignascio looked after us very nicely as did the very sweet and attentive (if not the most efficient) waiting staff. One young waiter, on his third day, took a particular interest in helping us out with ice cream, so I invented a word for the equivalent of a sommelier for ice cream: Ísbíltúrier. Remember where you encountered the word first.

A very tasty end to another enjoyable day.

All of our photographs from our week away, mostly at the Edinburgh Fringe, can be seen on our Flickr album by clicking here on the picture below:

Edinburgh Day Five: Falkland Palace Gardens And Tennis, 21 August 2018

After Sunday’s long-signalled washout, I had been keeping a close eye on the weather forecast for the rescheduled slot for real tennis at Falkland Palace; late morning Tuesday.

The weather was smiling on us first thing and continued to smile on us for our day in Falkland.

Worrying about the weather for real tennis is an unusual experience, as almost all of the functioning courts are indoors. In fact, the Royal Court at Falkland Palace is currently the only functioning outdoor court in the world. It is also the oldest functioning tennis court in the world.

Falkland Palace is also home to the most northerly court in the world. Indeed, as neither Janie nor I had previously ventured further north than Glasgow/Livingstone/Edinburgh, our visit to Falkland was also the most northerly place we have yet been.

We allowed plenty of time to get to Falkland, but in truth it is only an hour or so’s drive from our digs in Leith.

We planned to look at the gardens as well as play tennis, but didn’t particularly want to wander around the old pile.

On arrival, I told the attendant our plans and offered to pay for garden visit tickets, but she told us that we didn’t need to pay to see the garden if we were there for tennis.

Then we met our hosts; Ewan and Kirsten Lee. An extremely pleasant couple bursting with enthusiasm for the game of real tennis. They had been unable to find a fourth player to join us, so, as planned, Janie gave it a go, despite her inexperience at the game.

I say, “Janie’s inexperience”…that court would make many an experienced dedanist feel like a fresher.

For a start, the design of the court is quite different from any other active court; it is a jeu quarré court, which means that there is no dedans for the receiver to aim at, no penthouse roof at the server’s end and no tambour on the hazard side for the server to aim at.

Instead, the receiver has a small plank of wood, the “ais”, to aim at in the right-hand corner of the server’s court. although hitting the ais only counts as a winning stroke if it hits that feature before the second bounce and without first hitting the gallery penthouse roof.

The other ludicrously tantalising and no-doubt mostly confounding targets for the receiver are four small apertures in the server’s side back wall known, as lunes.

We played a rather one-sided Scotland v England fixture for over two hours and had lots of fun, while only occasionally having long wrests. So passing visitors, of whom there were many during those hours of play, might have been forgiven, when told that there are four lunes on the Falkland Palace tennis court, for mistakenly assuming that the term “four lunes” referred to the players, not to the apertures on the wall.

The surfaces are also very different at Falkland, the walls and the floor being unpolished stone and the balls, consequently, made with a rougher, more robust felt; another currently unique feature for Falkland.

Indeed, Ewan added an additional characteristic in the hazard/gallery corner; some salt to make less slippery that part of the floor that gets no sun and therefore remains damp. Dramatic backspin was available for those talented enough or lucky enough to produce it.

For sure luck plays its part to a greater extent even than we see on indoor real tennis courts, but that adds to the fun and of course luck evens out after a while, allowing the better players to prevail, more often than not.

I am pleased to be able to say that I managed to hit the grille once during our game and that I hit a winning shot to the ais. Both of those aimed and I think I might have had a couple more points from hitting the ais had it not been for Ewan’s determined defending of the ais with his increasingly successful volleys.

But my moment of glory from the hours of play came from a rather frustrated, wild receiving shot, which I think would have hit the penthouse roof above the dedans on most courts. But on this one occasion at Falkland, my forceful shot went sailing through the lower lune on the main wall side of the server’s wall.

We had a brief discussion on the scoring rule for a lune shot. The most recent incarnation of the Falkland Tennis Club scores a mere point for the lune shot, which is clearly inadequate reward for such a risky and unlikely shot. Ewan announced that the 16th century rule was that a successful lune shot determined the game, so we agreed that particular deuce game had been been won by me and Janie, then moved on in the set.

But on returning to my many ancient texts and manuscripts, I learn that the phrase “determines the game”, in the sixteenth century, could not have referred to a mere single game within a set of tennis…no, no, no…“determines the game”, in those days unquestionably meant, “the side with the most lune shots wins the whole match”.

So despite the fact that the Scottish pair (Ewan and Kirsten) won most of the points, almost all of the games and all of the sets ahead of the intrepid English pair (me and Janie), it seems that, by dint of my single, lucky lune shot, Janie and I won the match. Scotland 0-1 England. An historic win for England over Scotland away at Falkland. Hopefully our opponents will demand a rematch to try their luck again.

In truth, of course, the winner was real tennis; the hours of fun and the conviviality that seems almost always to go along with that wonderful sport.

We eventually had to stop playing when a large party of schoolchildren arrived on a school trip to see the court and watch people in 16th century fancy dress demonstrating the court. Janie took some photographs.

We four modern realists retired to The Covenanter across the road for some drinks, snacks and chat. Ewan, who is a schoolteacher, is a great enthusiast for sports, in particular court sports, so he and I schemed about fives (another shared interest) as well as tennis. Kirsten is an artist and designer with a great love of gardens, so she and Janie had plenty to talk about in those departments too.

Much like our recent visit to Petworth, Janie and I lost track of time and ate into far too much of our hosts’ day, for which we are grateful and which didn’t seem to bother our hosts. But on this occasion at Falkland, with no further visits on our itinerary, after saying goodbye to Ewan and Kirsten, we thankfully did find time to look around the beautiful, peaceful garden.

Highlights include a charming orchard, a small physic garden and also the lovely areas around the house and tennis court.

We also revisited the tennis court to try to capture some better pictures of the nesting swallows who populate the galleries side of the court.

On the way home, we stopped off at the David Lloyd Tennis Club on Glasgow Road (what a contrast) to pick up some of those ASICS indoor tennis shoes at that seem so hard to track down at the moment. Stephen at the Bruntsfield Sports concession there was very helpful, although they only had one pair that ticked all of my boxes.

Gosh we felt tired when we got home, but not too tired to go out again after showering to get some protein and carbs inside us by visiting Domenico’s in Leith for a spicy prawn starter and big bowls of the day’s special pasta; venison ragu tagliatelle.

We’d had a really lovely day, not least thanks to Ewan, Kirsten and the wonderful sport of real tennis.

All of our photographs from our week away, mostly at the Edinburgh Fringe, can be seen on our Flickr album by clicking here on the picture below:

Edinburgh Day Four: Lunch With Marie & Joe Logan, The Roots Of The Blues, Let’s Talk About Porn, 20 August 2018

The weather was much improved again today; yesterday was a weather blip. So we played tennis again at Leith Links in the morning.

Then off to have lunch at Marie and Joe’s new apartment in the south of Edinburgh, not too far from Summerhall and The Meadows. It took just over 45 minutes to get there door to door with a change of bus.

P1020715 — Janie insisted on taking some pictures along the way

We had a guided tour of the new place, including the new kitchen and en suite bathroom, which we were thus seeing before Linda Cook gets to see them; which is sure to be a source of much consternation.

Joe cooked a rather wonderful fish pie as the centrepiece of the lunch. We had a cherry roularde and some cheeses to follow, so that was us pretty much sorted for food today. Nice wines too.

It was really good to see Marie and Joe in their new home environment; when I saw them in Edinburgh last year…

A Day At The Edinburgh Fringe Festival With Old Muckers, 22 August 2017

…their moving plans were still up in the air.

We had some very interesting conversation about the festival, Edinburgh generally, politics generally, death, siblings, niblings, isms and anti-isms. You get the idea.

When lunch came to a natural end, I announced that I wanted to seek some indoor tennis shoes from Bruntsfield Sports in Morningside on our way back to Edinburgh. Marie and Joe volunteered to walk off lunch with us and chat some more.

It turned out that Bruntsfield Sports in Morningside doesn’t do those shoes; it is their branch at David Lloyd that sells them.

Still, we were by then near a convenient bus stop for central Edinburgh, so said a fond goodbye to Marie & Joe while stepping onto a bus to Princes Street.

We sought out the Apple Store on Princes Street in a vain attempt to get Daisy’s iPhone re-batteried (takes hours, we’ll need to do that in London). But I did procure the very iPad keyboard upon which I am typing right now, which should make my travelling blogs easier to write (i.e. wordier) in future.

On the way to Apple I spotted a show, Let’s Talk About Porn, at C, which looked interesting; a troupe of youngsters and plenty of time to faff around at Apple. Once I realised that’s we needed very little faffing time at Apple, I spotted another performance, The Roots Of The Blues, near to the C show (theSpaceTriplex) and just about enough time to pick up the tickets and fit both shows in.

So we ended up doing the very thing we promised we wouldn’t do; ran around like mad things fitting in a couple of shows at near-breakneck pace.

Both shows were worth it. The Roots Of The Blues was a mix of lecture and performance by Toby Mottershead. Charming, informative and he’s also a very able guitar player/blues singer. Toby’s slide guitar playing was exceptional and a new live experience for me and Janie.

Then up to C for the play Let’s Talk About Porn. This was a verbatim theatre piece, performed in a physical style by a very young troupe. “Sadly” we didn’t see the dour bar-tenders at the upstairs bar, but we did grab some water and did see the Flamenco duo from the previous evening sitting around before and after the play.

The play was good; we’d seen a fair bit of material on this topic before but it was an innovative, thoughtful, physical and interesting piece.

Then home, where we fancied little food and no booze – so we relaxed with just some toast and juice. Daisy managed to set off the smoke alarm by burning some toast – mercifully those things switch them selves off quite quickly and it was still reasonably early when that happened!

All of our photographs from our week away, mostly at the Edinburgh Fringe, can be seen on our Flickr album by clicking here on the picture below:

Edinburgh Day Three: A Fortunate Man by Michael Pinchbeck, Flamenco Global & Dinner At Roseleaf, 19 August 2018

The promised deluge mostly dumped its load overnight, leaving a drizzly, mizzly morning.

We’d already rescheduled the Falkland Palace/real tennis outing to Tuesday and/but there was no hope of modern tennis either in the murk, so we had a very pleasent, quiet morning hunkered down with our provisions.

We watched the start of the test match while grazing, then set off to the City to collect our tickets…

…and then go out to Summerhall. There we saw A Fortunate Man, a two-handed play adapted from the book about a rural GP, in the rather apt setting of a former veterinary college lecture theatre. It was a very moving piece.

A Fortunate Man has been very well received – reviews can be found here.

Then on to Flamenco Global at C. This had been a more serendipitous choice; I simply wanted to find some music (for variety) at that hour when we found that we couldn’t get tickets for Extinguished Things.

We had a glass of wine at the bar before the show, served by the most disengaged, humourless young people we have so far encountered in Edinburgh, which, together with the rather dour queue management at C, didn’t seem to auger well.

But as it turned out, Flamenco Global was a stunningly good act. Ricardo Garcia is a superb and seemingly very sweet guitarist. His playing was accompanied by some fine dancing by Nanako Aramaki.

We chatted afterwards with a nice Scottish couple who were fans of Flamenco and of Garcia in particular.

Then the bus home…

…for a quick freshen up and then off to the Roseleaf for dinner.

Great grub and friendly staff. daisy started with satay prawns & went on to a chunky Cullen Skink (a sort of smoked haddock chowder), while I started with an excellent mushroom soup followed by a trout dish. A fruity Viognier wine. We even had deserts – Janie had affogato (all the fashion I am told) while I tried a banana parfait with ice cream & chocolate named Bananarama.

All the music was similarly late 1970s early 1980s with various retro feels in the crockery and a collection of mad hats around the walls for mad hatter tea parties, apparently. For a short while we had a strange couple next to us – she had no volume control, occasionally speaking so loudly and strangely it was hard nor to look. They ate incredibly quickly and mercifully moved on at pace too.

Quirky place, superb food, excellent service, rounded off our day very nicely.

If you want to see all of the photographs from this trip, click this link or the Flickr Album link picture below:

Edinburgh Day Two: Harpy by Philip Meeks, Wu Song The Tiger Warrior, Dinner At Ship On The Shore, 18 August 2018

We rose late by our standards and pootled around first thing. We played tennis around 11:00 – the courts were deserted on a formerly-drizzly, albeit Saturday, morning.

We took some brunch at Mimi’s Bakehouse on Shore, then went off to get some provisions. Found Great Grog for wine & coffee. Then a sports shop for some training troos, then Leith Farmers’ Market for some brunch provisions for tomorrow, as the weather is set very poor.

Then we went in to Edinburgh proper for our shows, both recommended by the nice family in Let Me Eat Too. First up, Harpy – a one woman play with Su Pollard. Very good performance but the play was a bit slow and all over the place. It has been pretty well received though – reviews can be found here.

In need of refreshment and reasonable comfort, we eventually found an Andalusian tapas/wine bar place happy to let us sit outside and drink some wine. There was a curious incident with a pair of drunks and their Yorkshire terrier dog and I got shat on from a great height, literally. Good job I was wearing my vinyl (imitation leather) jacket.

Then on to Wu Song – The Tiger Warrior. The recommendation lady had described it as musicians from North Korea but actually it was an extraordinary mime/dance show from Taiwan.

We probably wouldn’t have booked it had it been described to us more accurately but we really enjoyed it, so that lady’s confusion proved to be our friend. It was pretty well received in formal reviews too.

Home for a wash/change and then on to Ship On The Shore for dinner. Excellent fish meal.

We shared a crab salad starter. Daisy tried lemon sole while I went for seafood linguini.

Massive portions but superb food. We got home before the rain started…just.

All of our photographs from our week away, mostly at the Edinburgh Fringe, can be seen on our Flickr album by clicking here on the picture below:

Edinburgh Day One: Angry Alan by Penelope Skinner, NewsRevue, BattleActs & Dinner At Chop House Leith, 17 August 2018

We rose quite early, to be greeted by the sight and sound of miscellaneous gulls outside our window and even a bevy of eight swans, which graced our view daily throughout our stay. They even came to say goodbye just as we were leaving, a week later.

We found our way to Leith Links on foot (less than 10 minutes walk away) and played tennis there. Three courts in good condition; quite similar to our regular arrangements at Boston Manor.

Then we returned to the flat to wash, change and sort out bus/tram passes. Once we were “appy” with that, we set off into Edinburgh. First stop, to collect our tickets for today at the High Street Fringe ticket shop.

Then we headed towards Underbelly, to get our bearings & find some lunch. An Underbelly usher recommended Let Me Eat Too, where we had giant “Balmoral” panini wraps of chicken, haggis & cheese. There we met a nice English family – the son was in a show & the parents had some good ideas/suggestions for us.

We subsequently decided that places like Let Me Eat Too and their portion sizes were a bit “over belly” for us at lunchtime ahead of shows at Underbelly and the like, so we lightened up our subsequent post-tennis/lunchtime arrangements.

We saw the only play I had pre-booked for the trip: Angry Alan by Penelope Skinner. It was a superb piece, very well acted by Donald Sage Mackay, whom we had seen quite recently in White Guy On The Bus at the Finborough. Angry Alan has been very well received, on the whole, in formal reviews. By chance, we got to meet Donald Sage Mackay & Penelope Skinner afterwards in the Underbelly cafe.

Then we hunted down tickets for the shows that nice family recommended, &/but took sanctuary in the Checkpoint cafe on Bristo Place. I went on a bit of a fool’s errand from there to try & get tickets in person – app/collect works much better and cheaper it seems.

Then we strolled on to George Square to see NewsRevue; the other show I had pre-booked before we set off for Edinburgh.

I have been hanging around NewsRevue since the early 1990s and had material in the show, including the Edinburgh “best of” shows, for most of that decade. Of course I had often seen previews of the Edinburgh show at the Canal Cafe, but this was the first time I had ever seen the show in Edinburgh. The show has a different vibe in a 500-seater auditorium with the performers miked up and the audience in “early evening Fringe” mode rather than “late night cabaret” mode.

But it is still a very good show, as it has always been; and oh boy was it packed the day we saw it; probably the case every day. NewsRevue really has become an Edinburgh Fringe institution now.

Then we strolled back to High Street to collect those appy show tickets for tomorrow. Then back to Cowgate for quick drink at Underbelly & then on to Three Sisters (Free Sisters) to see Michael Keane (a friend of mine from the real tennis community) & his pals in a comedy improv. show named BattleActs.

Not really our sort of thing; improv. shows, but this one was done very well and had packed out a fairly sizeable room at the Free Sisters.

We bussed back to Leith, stopping for dinner at Chop House Leith for some excellent aged steaks and a couple of glasses of very quaffable red wine.

We’d had a super first day at the fringe.

If you want to see all the pictures we took on this Edinburgh trip, you can find the album by clicking here or the picture (Flickr Album link) below:

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