Lavonardo

Gave in and bought Canon’s 18-200mm objective from Yodobashi. Getting it tax-free mitigated the financial damage somewhat and anyway, I needed something longer than the 11-16mm and 50mm glasses I had with me. The purchase was not too easy – the procedures took at least three salespersons, and a lot of milling around. Some of it might have been just boredom, since the customers were vastly outnumbered early in the morning.

Took the lens to the task on a visit to two Osaka attractions.

The floating garden is a sightseeing platform at 173 meters. The view was appropriately nice, but all in all the experience was rather lame. The rapidly ascending glass elevator gave a sharp pointer to dormant acrophobia. The garden contained the second cache in Osaka.

Osaka castle is a rebuilt large fortress within city limits. The castle was nicely surrounded by cherry trees. The building is not the original castle, it has been reconstructed multiple times over. Hence the visitors are not subjected to same kind of protective requirements as is common in the rather more fabulous and original Himeji castle.

Rode a cab to and from the castle, while not cheap by any means, it’s quite a bit more affordable in Japan than back home.

The park neighboring the aquarium was the first full exposure to the cherry blossoms.

But the way there went through a big, but strangely empty mall. In a country with as little space as Japan, this was an odd discovery. Had lunch, and was quite impressed by the local addition to the subway menu: shrimp and avocado topping, with more than just a hint of wasabi built in.

The cherry blossoms were everywhere in the park, as were electric lanterns (sadly plastic as opposed to paper). And the beauty didn’t go unnoticed. The lawn was rather packed with picnickers, most of whom neaty sitting on bright blue plastic tarps.

Logged the first cache of the trip, and easy virtual in one corner of the park.

The checkout practices of DGI Byen turned out to be rather draconian. The longest extension to checkout time was one hour at a cost of 100DKK. Clearly not a good option on a day when the flight out is at half past five in the evening.

Hence dumped the luggage in the storage at the hotel and continued exploring.

Rosenborg castle was easily accessible with the S-train. It contained both fabulous treasures and the first cache of the trip. The former were numerous, large and festooned with jewels, proving that Denmark has a rich history behind it. The latter an easy pick off a neighboring wall.

The rest of the day was spent on a semi-random walkabout around the city. The harvest included the second cache (this time requiring actual work), and an australian-style lunch on the international street market. The train included a large finnish tent, but the attention was drawn elsewhere by the attractions of cheese, nuts and jam (pear/ginger – probably just the thing for gloomy November breakfasts).

A randomly encountered group of Brits proved why they are the most reviled of tourists across the continent. The noise and the swilling of beer are no big deal, but the random tossing of large firecrackers on a lazy sunday afternoon is something that hopefully brings karmic rewards in the form of a large dobermann at the first opportunity.

The trainride to Kastrup was as uneventful as they come. As was the checkin.

The weirdness started post-security. For some reason the local tax-free shop was unwilling to part with a five pack of Absolut sampler bottles on account of me “not flying outside EU”. No amount of trying to convince the saleswoman of my willingness to pay the taxes coerced her to complete the sale. A large collection of alcohol confiscated off other customers pretty much proved my point of once again finding something fishy in the land of the danes.

Spent the last crowns on a couple of books and an unexpectedly discovered issue of Death Ray on a very well-stocked WH Smiths.

Flew back in economy extra (the added cost was a non-issue, since the tickets were purchased with SAS points). The only noticeable difference was the actual availability of food. And possibly an inch or two of extra legroom. The latter is hard to prove, since the seating arrangement in front of the plane is odd anyway.

DNF’d a cache in Plovdiv despite reaching it with a very good satellite coverage accounting for three meter accuracy.

The reason wasn’t the snakes advertised in the cache’s attributes, but the combination of plentiful broken glass, a lot of sharp branches and me wearing shorts.

EDIT 23.7: Fixed the link to the correct cache.

Following an inhumanely early wake-up call, caught a flight to Sofia, Bulgaria. Or actually two flights, since had a transfer in München.

The occasion is a wedding, and the official lodgings for all visitors are at a centrally located Sheraton that exudes a true 19th century colonial charm. The accommodation experience begins well, a free shuttle trip from the airport to the hotel is always appreciated. A tiny wait for the rooms crimps the positive vibe, but a very timely glass of Zagorka at the hotel’s very east european bar smooths things out.

Following the early arrival, a quick look-see around the neighbourhood is very much needed.

Vitosha street proves to have more branded shops than Aleksanterinkatu back home does, and all in all the city does feel quite european and urban. Apart from the sidewalks which are in a truly chaotic disrepair, the tiles and their usability seems to change between houses, so this might very well be a responsibility that the local authorities delegate onwards.

Dinner at a “traditionally bulgarian” restaurant turns out to be both good (apart from peculiarly undercooked potatoes) and cheap, both hopefully tidings of further meals in the city.

A walk on the opposite side of the hotel shows that the shops are not a global factor in the city. Humongous governmental buildings and plentiful churches rule the eastern side. A conveniently placed geocache (next to Nevski cathedral) is pretty much the only one easily available in the downtown area.

An underpass conceals an animated display of a Pentti Saarikoski poem on a wall (finnish, english and bulgarian version alternately projected), and some of the streets bear the markings of Autobots watching.

The evening is warm, and a slight misnavigation in seeking out the pre-wedding party at a club nearby feels like a minor blip on the radar. The club itself, sadly, is extremely loud and packed with smoking locals – the EU regulations have not had any progress in Bulgaria yet.

The taxi ride back to the hotel is extremely cheap as well, for less than half of the price of a takeoff in Helsinki, the car covers the few kilometers back to Sheraton. However, the hosts are pretty adamant that only a couple of taxi companies in Sofia are reliable, the others are considered ripoff artists.

Rain kept drizzling down, but not in biblical proportions. Walked through the city for some ten kilometers.

Located two caches out of four. First DNF due to bouncing signal, the second due to milling people all around the ground zero position.

Visited the botanic gardens for some excellent views on the harbor. Had my first encounter with fruitbats. Some trees bore dozens of the screeching creatures, who were surprisingly active before the dusk. Saw the biggest (and probably one of the ugliest) flower, and expectedly many orchids. The brand-spanking new batteries gave up the ghost after half a dozen images – but that’s probably the fault of the shop, not of the manufacturer.

Visiting three states is not that big a feat in New England, as the states are rather small and thus packed tight, could have easily included New Hampshire on the agenda as well, but decided for longer visits in the other two instead. Decided to supplement mere visitation with some precision-aimed geocaching – I’m not hooked yet, but my ever-loyal travel companion is. Anyway, it’s better to have something to aim at in the states rather than just aimless driving on the freeways. And one of the caches selected is the grave of H. P. Lovecraft, so I’m not complaining at all.

A big tree in full pinkish-purple bloom next to the hotel turns out indeed to be a magnolia. Botanical skills are possessed by surprising folks. The tree is shedding its petals fast, and the people parked underneath have a soggy layer on top of their vehicle (yes, it occasionally even rains in Boston).

First up: Connecticut. Picked up a useful-seeming town on the neverlost, the navigation system that has proven invaluable on previous trips also.

Bought essential supplies (ice cream, soda) at a gas station and headed out to Old Furnace State Park. The cache there is not badly hidden, but the GPS keeps on giving very inconsistent results, thus prolonging the search. The scenery is nice – a couple of brooks, a dammed lake, forested hills all touched by a warm morning sun. Despite the sometimes somewhat hazardous terrain, no wounds are inflicted during the search.

Road to Rhode Island, the smallest of the states is pretty much straight. Providence, the capital, is not very well guided, and after some circling (arrangements complicated by a big circus in town) we decide to skip lunch here, and head toward the cache immediately. The cache is virtual, and I recall the needed epitaph, so the visit is needless, but we proceed towards the cemetery containing H.P. Lovecraft’s grave nonetheless. The cemetery is large indeed, and the roads are easily wide enough for much bigger cars than ours. The nondescript grave (picture to be added later, didn’t take any) is easily located with the GPS, and we spend a longish while walking around – newenglanders go for quite varying headstones; square-cross-sectioned obelisks and large raised platforms are common, whereas crypts seem entirely absent. The graveyard has huge trees, which add to the tranquillity of the area.

The last state of the day, unsurprisingly, is Massachusetts, Cape Cod peninsula avoids us again, as we decide to visit Plymouth instead, and then head back to Boston. Plymouth is famous for the pilgrims who arrived in Mayflower back in 1620, a fact that is hammered in almost everywhere in town. Starting with the replica of the original ship (the copy turns fifty next year, and the locals expect to party hard), and continuing in menus and streetsigns. Didn’t locate the Plymouth Rock where the pilgrims supposedly landed, but it having been voted the “most disappointing landmark in America”, I don’t think that’s an inconsolable loss…

Plymouth is obviously next to the sea, and the chilly wind constant. The need for a long-sleeved garment is quite pressing, but I refuse to give in to the local hoodies, which are either zipperless and/or garishly designed. However, despite the mild winds, the day is the first real spring day in the region, and there’s big crowds milling about in the harbour area. The most noticeable group is a big bunch of motorists, all riding Harley-Davidsons, all without visible gang-regalia so commonly connected to the HD-crowd back home.

Had dinner in Weathervane in Plymouth. Disappointingly the food is not good at all, everything is smothered in heavy batter, and the exquisite taste of seafood is masked by the bland covering.

Another mainstay of a visit to Boston is dropping by the Cambridgeside galleria mall. Spent an hour, and left with one new shirt, two albums by Tool, and the first season of 4400 (the last to be couriered to Finland ASAP, the rest are for personal use).

Started the day with a simple breakfast in a nearby hotel, Kensington Gardens is small enough not to have a dining room of its own and has a symbiotic relationship with its closest neighbor. The room’s shower was fully functional providing both warmth and a decent amount of pressure in the water.

Transited to the second hotel of the trip (one paid by the company), and contrary to all expectations had access to my room at 9:30 am. And there was much rejoicing. Well done, mr. Hilton, for providing a sensible home base much earlier than anticipated.

Took off towards Camden Town, which is supposed to have a mighty good flea market on sundays. The most convenient metro lines were shut down temporarily, so had to employ an alternative method of transportation. Buses. Luckily enough, a doubledecker was available and we could play the part of a gawking tourist in the very first row on the upper floor.

The market itself was quite disappointing. Filled with t-shirt vendors and not much else. And the designs were tired – either old and/or ripped off (even saw a couple threadless-classics there, like Darth Gardener). Football jerseys were available in very limited quantities, and my quest for a Palace shirt ended in failure. Only bright spot was an unaffiliated comics store which did its best to ruin the self-imposed daily budgets. An underground record store (literally, like three meters below the street level) had a decent selection, and a strict “only chipped credit cards or cash”-policy – being short on latter and without the former, constrained purchases to a single Cathedral album. Yeah, the place seemed to have shed its fleamarketness ages ago, buit according to locals it’s better in the summer. However, the visit was by no means an utter disaster, the area is clean and pretty much without panhandlers or loonies.

After a couple of hours idle wandering amongst the rip-off shirts and drug paraphernalia it was time to move to the second designated stop of the day, the zero-meridian in Greenwich. Camden Town underground station being one-way after noon was an unexpected complication – but a fortuitous bus/metro-combo sorted entry to the final means of transport: the Docklands Light Rail was a clean and fast way of getting from place A to B. Saw the Mornington Crescent station on the way, thus proving it’s not just something created for a game by schoolboys bored out of their collective skulls.

Had gotten peckish by the time we’d reached Greenwich and had a bit of fish’n'chips in a local joint. Run by rather clueless waiters, this was not a thoroughly pleasant experience. “Some local ale” turned out to be Becks, and the fish itself very bland.

Walk to the Royal Observatory had a few false lines on the path, before the actual zero-meridian in the courtyard was visible. The observatory itself was undergoing major repairs, and as such not much was on display. Too bad. But having arrived there half an hour before closing time wouldn’t have given much chance for extended browsing anyway. Missed the maritime museum altogether. The shop had many interesting books on the history of cartography – decided against buying any, since had no idea what’s good and what isn’t (time to scour amazon for reviews, obviously).

Noted that some local kids have the weirdest sneakers I’ve seen in a good while. With rollers mounted on heels, they allowed rapid descent on the steep tarmac paths. Two kids collided just in front of us, thus negating the potential need to leap onto the lawn for safety from collisions.

Located one cache in the greenwich park, and rode back downtown on a Thames ferry ship. A wee bit chilly ride, especially in the uncovered top part of the ship. Saw a lot of nice and probably quite expensivish apartments on the waterfront during the ride. Got out near the Tower, and walked around it towards the conveniently located tube station.

Attempted to have again indian dinner, but was dismayed by the prices in the area (16 quid is not a decent price for a small curry), and ended up having italian instead. Excellent porcini-risotto was marred by service bordering on indifferent.

The hotel sports bar closed at eleven, so there was no easy way to view the superbowl. Retired early instead, it’ll be a busy day tomorrow.

Indeed. Back in ol’ Blighty after a fifteen year absence. Have flown through Heathrow multiple times and occasionally misplaced luggage there, but never laid a foot on actual english soil.

The first big change is pretty much immediate after disembarking. The Heathrow Express conveniently takes you from the airport to Paddington in mere fifteen minutes. It’s not cheap by any means, but I’m sure it beats the hour-long ride on the Piccadilly line especially in the summer.

The flight itself was uneventful, though landed surprisingly early – aided by a strong tailwind the plane was about 15 minutes ahead of schedule. Slept in the plane which usually does not happen, a five am wakeup call is a good indication why…

Spent the first night in a small, but quite comfortable hotel in Bayswater. At 40 pounds a night the Kensington Gardens hotel is a steal, especially when the rooms have toilets and showers of their own. This is by no means the only hotel in the area, which seems to be filled with old, mostly white houses that contain a few dozen small rooms. And the presence of an underground station within a few minutes walk is a definite boon.

However, a room was not to be had immediately upon arrival, so was forced to traipse around the neighborhood. Walked a few hours in the nearby big park. Lots of unleashed dogs and deperate joggers in +6C cloudy noon. Accompanied Seppo to a few geocaches, and missed a few as well, turns out the locals are very fond of the micro-sized ones, that are rather easy avoid being spotted. Missed the Knightsbridge riots caused by the Jyllandsposten cartyoons by a few hundred meters – the ruckus was inaudible in the Kensington Gardens park.

Ran into a big crowd of kiwis celebrating their national day. By drinking beer on Queensway, which must be some sort of a later day tradition. The accent is quite impenetrable, but the flags and ferns stenciled on cheeks were a pretty good indicator what’s going on.

After a brief spell in the hotel had a smallish lunch in a local pakistani restaurant; Khan’s – heartily recommended to anyone looking for a decent curry.

Despite being rather close to the big shopping districts, decided against walking and grabbed the underground instead. A couple of the most convenient lines turned out to be undergoing repairs, so travel was a bit challenging throughout the weekend.

Oxford Street was dusty and pretty much uninteresting. HMV provided the first record of the trip (Arctic Monkeys’ hugely raved about debut), but most of the shops got silently passed by. Soccer Scene looked like a promising location for a bit of kit, but they apparently did not sell any Crystal Palace stuff, and were not really interested in answering questions either.

Foley’s on Charing Cross Road had undergone severe modernization, it was clean and easy to browse as opposed to the overwhelming maze it used to be. The street was no longer domain of the independent, as Borders had landed a huge store in the middle of it.

The travelcard allowed moving around the city in buses as well, and quickly relocated to Trafalgar Square. The Nelson monument in the middle is way, way bigger than expected – it towers above the whole square. A bit of walking towards the waterfront presented the London Eye, a huge ferris wheel. Which on closer inspection proved to be in use (it spins real slow), and have a huge milling crowd waiting for access. Decided against a ride, especially when the charge was easily above ten quid. The neighboring County House stocked two interesting attractions, but both the aquarium as well as the Dali expo had closed for the day.

A walk by the Big Ben brought a convenient underground station with it, and a short stay at the hotel before dinner.