Qatar Airways - a truly 5-star outfit

It's not for the most pleasant reasons that I'm trekking up north to Maryport, Cumbria (CA15 8TD if you care to Google or Bing it). But more of than in a later post.

I had the good fortune, however, of finding a reasonably priced business class fare from Singapore to Manchester with Qatar Airways and the dates mostly worked, so I snapped it up. I have flown them before and was already an advocate. This latest trip is consistent with my experience hitherto and what Qatar delivers is the envy of many an airline.

Their seats in business are almost lie-flat - so I slept like a baby between Singapore and Doha. They serve champagne from the bottle at your seat - you feel like you're in a restaurant. A jump suit is offered - not many airlines do that anymore in 2nd class and disembarking one is whisked away to their dedicated business / first terminal for a relaxing transit in their luxurious lounge.

Upon arriving, I did the seasoned thing and ignored everything else and zoomed in on the shower zone. I had left my jacket and overcoat draped over my chair and rushed to get a free cubicle to freshen up. One expects in these surroundings that your belongings are safe from man-handling - so you can imagine my surprise when I returned to my seat to see someone had @tampered@ with my coat. But NOT in a bad way I hasten to add: one of the lounge attendants had hauled a wooden clothes-horse to my seat and lovingly hung both my jacket and overcoat to help prevent creasing.

While at work earlier today, we were presenting to a large agro-chemical company on the research technique commonly known as Kano analysis where one splits various product offering items into the four categories of essential, hygiene, treats and inconsequential. I expect the shower room to be available and clean; champagne of some description is essential on take-off; I would not really care if I got a hot towel or not; BUT pro-actively hanging my clothes for me was a real treat.

I was WOWed.

Thank you Qatar Airways.

First class - a real wow

I had the great fortune to travel first class recently all the way to the USA. I was excited as as dog with two proverbial appendages (as we almost say in Cumbria).

It started in line with my expectations as the taxi pulled up outside the private first class driveway for Singapore Airlines at Changi airport. This isn't a slip way or side road, it really is a private driveway with lush foliage to shield your eyes from people traveling in other classes. I was then invited to the Private Room; intriguing I thought, wasn't the first class lounge already private enough? But oh no! This inner sanctum is a room within a room within a lounge within the airport -- I was so within, I thought I'd never get out.

Table-service breakfast was brisk and efficient and what a change to sit in a lounge and consume ones food complete with white linen table cloths. The scrambled eggs and chicken sausage were delicately presented with a simple garnish and some essential ketchup. It was incredibly sumptuous and a wonderful start to my first class experience.

(I should point out at this juncture, that I didn't actually pay for my flight, and am quite glad I didn't - more on that later. But it has been hinted at, in not too subtle a way, that my constant updates on facebook about my front of the plane journey, seem a bit arrogant or elitist - well I suppose they are and I should say get used to it. But for the record, I used my SQ miles to get the flight - and honestly at 164000 return I didn't think it was a bad deal.)

Anyway, the beginning was awesome - but could the rest live up to this fabulous start?

Boarding was stress free and I was heartily welcomed on board. I was sitting in 2F and envied the passenger in B1 so close up the 747's nose, he was almost popping out the front of the aircraft. The cabin was full to the gunwales and the leading stewardess positively beamed as she told me "business is good!". The seats are the old first class and not the revamped 380 suites - but the seat is very comfortable. The blanket I was given was a little old and one felt it had been washed so many times the Givenchy hand that had designed it a very long time ago was now wrinkled and calloused.

This, I must confess, soon evaporated to a distant memory when I was served Krug and then later - well it was mid-morning by this point - Dom Perignon 2000. Sublime tones in the air of toast and almonds.

The satay we were then served was tough to say the least -- very disappointing and the traditional Japanese kaiseki was average. But service won the day and I left the plane at LAX a very happy traveler. Little did I appreciate the horror that is called customs and "homeland security" that awaited me as I transferred from terminal 8 to terminal 5 and then hacked my way through line after line to luckily catch my connecting Delta cattle-class flight to Atlanta. That wasn't too bad at all, actually - but I did arrive in the home of Coca Cola wishing I had more caffeine in my system than I did. I was knackered.

What a delight to check into the W Downtown Atlanta with it hues of purple, soothing vibes forcefully filling the lift and a bed so downy-soft I almost immediately fell asleep the moment my weary head touched the pillow.

As I dream of my W Hotel in Times Square - which was where I staying in New York on my return stop over, I shall sign off and leave you all with this thought for my next entry: the return journey on Singapore Airlines, really was a let-down...and let me tell you why...

Christmas Cakes....Secret recipes

It's flattering, it's astounding the following it has, it's a sign of tradition and progress.

What on earth am I prattling on about?
Christmas cake of course.

My grandmothers both baked fruit loafs at Christmas time for as far back as I can remember and while both were delicious they were also unique. Nan's was lighter and less dense; Mother's (my maternal grandmother) was more fruit-laden and darker - this latter trait was thanks to the gravy browning she put in it -- yes, you read it correctly: gravy browning. Nan always used brandy to lace the loaf and Mother preferred rum; me being somewhat of an alcoholic, loved them both.

As time took its tenacious toll, both grandmothers had to give up on making the cakes; after all it's all done by hand and stirring kilos of dry fruit round and round is not easy on the elbow joints. Now for those that don't know, my Mam is not known for her culinary prowess; in fact, to her credit, she once did try to boil her own beetroot. Unfortunately, she peeled the damn things and as a result we had WHITE beetroot instead of the usual PURPLE. It apparently tasted OK, but looked distinctly anaemic.

So when Mam volunteered to have a go at taking over the batton for cake baking, I was skeptical to say the least. She donned her pinny (cf pinafore) and started stirring. After several nail-biting hours in the oven, the cake was taken out and inspected. There's nothing quite like newly baked things and the aroma engulfed the kitched.

Delicious was the unanimous verdict.

It has been a tradition going back to my grandmothers' time for me to take one cake to work for my colleagues to share; what started in Paris, moved to Tokyo and is now firmly ensconced in Singapore at Synovate.

You can see a picture at: http://www.facebook.com/#/photo.php?pid=4451075&id=566862385&ref=mf

The cake gets accolades every year - and some people even put in advance orders. My matriarchs in the Smith/Martin family are deeply touched by such praise and thank all the followers of the beloved Christmas Cake.

And to spread the joy, I've decided to publish the top secret recipe; so please experiement and enjoy.

HAPPY BAKING.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ingredients:

7/8inch cake tin
4oz butter +4oz margarine
8oz caster sugar,4 eggs, 1lbs currants,8oz raisins, 4oz pkt cherry's, 6oz plain flour, 4oz ground almonds.1/2 T/spoon mixed spices.1/4 T/spoon baking powder, 1Tablewarm treacle, 1table spoon rum (dark).
grease and line tin
wash cherry's dry 1 oz,
place all fruits in colander over a basin,pour 1and a 1/2 table spoons of rum over them and leave overnight.

Method:

Butter/Margarine/Sugar and warm Treacle mix well.
Add beaten eggs and flour,then slowly add all the remainder of ingredients.
Add the rest of the rum,don't make the mix to sloppy.
spoon into tin level off.
Bake for 1/2 hr at 160 (fan oven150) then 3 to 3 1/2 hrs at145 (fan 135)
When baked leave in tin about 1 hr, pour over 1Tablespoon of rum.
Remove from tin leave overnight to cool.
Wrap in grease proof paper and tin foil place in a airtight container
Brush with rum every 2 wks

To be made 6/8 weeks before needed.

Hong Kong - not so bad

As someone summarised for me recently "I'm more of a second city kind of guy". And mostly it's true; Chicago over New York, Cologne or Munich over Berlin, Sinapore over Hong Kong - if you allow me a certain latitude. I think there are bold exceptions: Rome, Paris, London - but hey, who said we were logical beings.

But Singapore would have my vote time and time again over HK.
That was - until my last trip.

I just got back from a chilly yet beautifully azure Hong Kong, where I spent a delightful weekend. I was lucky enough to stay at the W Hotel in Kowloon and amazing it was too. Funky yet stylish; bold yet warm; quirky yet functional the entire hotel exuded sophistication and luxury. Swimming on the 73rd floor in the open air (and luckily warmed up) pool was a real treat; vista views of the city before me and enticingly warm water to do my pseudo-exercising in. The room was over-sized - think they upgraded me - ha - and tastefully kitted out in greys and earthy tones. The main thing that did annoy me was the iPod docking station didn't support my player - which is surprising since it's once of the new generation ones; I must confess this didn't matter too much as the in-room Wonderlust CD provided by the hotel was more than jumping for me - great tracks by Madonna, Kylie, Dame Shirley and other such funkettes.

On Saturday I met up with a couple of old C&W colleagues who treated me to one of the nicest afternoons I've had in HK for a long time. We ate dim sum in Sheung Wan - not a gwai loh in sight - and gorged ourselves on won ton, shrimp stuffed vegetables, ha kau, char siew bao and greens. We then wandered to a small adjacent alleyway to find "snake house"; an establishment that's been serving meals, pastries and coffee for over 60 years to those in the know. We had warm cola with ginger and lemon - now there's a combination for you. Apparently good for colds - but it tasted, even to the non-flu-afflicted, rather delicious. My good friend offered salted lemon with Sprite - which didn't sound as appealing; I passed on that concoction. Meandering the streets of Central afterwards in the yellow rays was a joy.

There were many such little episodes that really made this trip to HK memorable: getting lost on the dark roads of Stanely, dinner at Lucy's, yoga in Dragon I, Chinese art in the gallery, the luxury malls, the sophistication of the Hong Kongers' dress sense, protests outside Citibank, picking up my newly tailored shirts and much much more.

As we change, perhaps cities change too, or perhaps we just see them differently.
Either way, I'm glad HK is my friend again.

Flights of fancy

Well I must say: thank goodness British Airways didn't go on strike...and I (selfishly) made it back to splendid Singapore. This rant isn't going to be about the politics of strike action (I'll save that for another time), but rather about how impressed I was with BA's service.

I've been living in splendid Singapore for over 6 years now - and by the way I think "splendid Singapore" a much more apt and "out there" epithet that "uniquely Singapore" adopted by the tourism board here - and during this time have been a loyal advocate of Singapore Airlines (or SQ as we affectionately refers to them, using their airline code as shorthand). They are indeed hard to beat; well designed cabins, impeccably trained crew, the slimmest women (and men) you've ever seen in the sky; and a record for efficiency and accuracy that is legendary.

I had some Cathay Pacific OneWorld miles to use up before they expired and managed to secure (with great difficulty) business class flights back home for Christmas with British Airways. It was going to cost me virtually nothing and I thought "why not?!".

The flight to London was a great start with wonderful seats (newly designed) and much more comfortable than the "old" SQ seats and even better laid out than the new SQ "largest seat in business class" mammoth. The cocoon-style pod of BA is a tad hemmed-in to begin with, but once you get over your innate sense of claustrophobic self-preservation, the seat is soft, long and terribly enticing to a good night's sleep. I always feel the SQ wide-berth leather-coated chair-cum-bed with a donkey leg, lie sideways to sleep approach, a bit awkward.

But surely SQ trumped BA on service, I hear you shout...well, actually the service both ways on BA was very very good; welcome drinks were served, food was delivered with precision (mostly) and the crew were polite and engaging. There were glitches, of course there were, but that's a fact of a very complicated service offering with many variables...I was slightly peeved, I must confess, that after telling at least 5 BA staff at different stages of my arrival that I wanted to use the arrivals lounge to shower before my connecting flight to Newcastle and not one of them advised me I could use the departures lounge at Terminal 5, even though I was flying economy, since I'd arrived in business class from HK. So I did waste about 30-40 minutes exiting customs and putting myself through unnecessary security searches to get back through - ah well, customers often know more about the products than the brand ambassadors themselves.

I could have wished for more TV choices (films were OK) not knowing a single comedy option on offer and feeling short-changed on the documentary front, but these are small points in the big scheme of things - and coming back to Singapore, I did watch a fabulous commentary on Beethoven, which imbued me with a serene joy.

So all in all, a delightful experience and one I will most likely repeat - SQ's penny-pinching of late has become a tad annoying and the food quite inedible in all classes - so it's not very often I wave the Union Flag and shout bravo England!, but on this occasion I feel I shall and more importantly, I feel that BA deserves it.

Well done.
And by way, the photo is of Carlisle, Cumbria showing a snowy lane on 22nd December.

Madras or Chennai?

I was recently lucky enough to visit my very good friends Patrick and Beebee in the rather nondescript city of Chennai - formerly Madras.

Is that a contradiction, I hear you cry...yes and no.

As with so many things in life it's an oxymoron of real-life proportions. The city itself was nothing to write home about, but the people....oh the people.

As expected, Patrick showed me the party side of Madras: those guys know how to party, with 80s funk and 90s chic. After surviving the driving to get to a stag night on Saturday evening, the booming didn't stop. We were fortunate to be cocooned at a friend's "studio"-cum-"kitchen" with all the mod cons including sink and conveniently placed bathrooms. The trance music mixed by the groom-to-be was a little jolting, but the conversation was passionate and engaging.

I think a couple of the conservative Channaikers were somewhat taken aback at my openness about being gay; but that will do them good in the long run.

Then we retired to the hen party - a first for me....I've done plenty of hen nights on their own and a couple of stags - including my own - but this was a first combining the two..... and after a bum-feeling contest which I managed to avoid, I thought perhaps it was not a bad idea to combine the two. Mind you, I did miss the actual "feeling" action, but my vodka tonic was refreshing - a man can't have everything, now, can he?!?!

Then, Monday, and some culture....the rocks at Mamallapuram were amazing. Entire temples carved from single pieces of rock; smoothed over centuries of lapping seawater; eventually preserved by constructing a simple barrier sanctioned by the late Indira Ghandi.

So, is it Chennai or Madras? Who the hell cares, it's a city full of life, wonderful creativity and amazing relics.

I personally like the onomatopoeia of Madras but do acknowledge the political obligation of a name-change.



I'll be back.

Thoughts on a Tuesday evening....

Or is it Wednesday morning....?
Suppose it depends where you are, right?

Life throws all kinds of malarkey at you...and it almost never seems fair...but how much of it, is of our own making? This is a question I often I ask myself. What if I did that differently, what if I had done that, what if....oh for goodness' sake; what if?

Someone told me recently it's good to wear ones heart on ones sleeve and I've always done that and this old dog won't change his tricks. And why the hell should we? We are what / who we are and the tricks we've perfected should serve us well. But in defence of the dark art of honesty, I firmly believe when we're truthful, honest, open, admissive, we allow others a view of our soul; we allow others the right to judge; we allow others to be themselves.

Let go; just be...

I am trying that philosophy right now and I think it's a good paradigm to work within.

I'm listening to a CD a good friend recorded and the track by Leona Lewis resonates with: what if it hurts me? what if I break down? ... I wanna hear myself ... don't care about all pain in front of me ... I just wanna be happy.

And that's where we all surely wanna be.

This blog entry is a truly joyous entry; one filled with hope and optimism.

I shall see many many friends over the Festive Season and there will be many more I won't see, but I know there are constants in all this turbulence.

I will probably blog more often (if more succinctly) over the next few weeks...hope you can cope with following it all...and PLEASE DO COMMENT.

Well here endeth the rant...or was it a revelation?!