Travelling Worm

A bookworm's travelogue

Category: travel

  • Dawn in Surfers Paradise

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Me and the TC flitted back to Surfers Paradise on the Australian Gold Coast last weekend.  We’ve been there before. This time was just a quick hop, to join the TC-once-removed at the end of a week-long conference.

    Me, I’m no adrenaline junky, so I stayed comfortably lodged in a good book while the TCs went cavorting around Movie World. They came back gibbering and quivering, having mistakenly got on the Scooby-Doo coaster with the expectations of a gentle ride interrupted by a few spooks popping out of corners. Hah, I could have told them what to expect. They were also sizzling with excitement after the Hollywood Stunt Driver show, where they claim they had to duck flying cars and douse burning eyebrows after the explosive finale.

    Later, the TC dragged me and the TC-once-removed out to see the dawn on the beach. Some people just can’t be persuaded that the sun rises every day, even without their being there.

    My impressions? Here comes the grudging admission: It was worthwhile. The low-angled rays from the sun yielded interesting effects of light and shade.

    Word of the day: Toes

    Another blog about bookmarks and related oddities

    My friend the Sandgroper recently tweeted me a link to the Forgotten Bookmarks site. What a cool idea! The blogger works in a bookshop that specialises in rare books. She blogs about the weird, interesting or touching things that she finds in the books. If you’re in a mood for macabre juxtapositions, take a look at the entry called From The Library of Paul Bunyan.

    Of course, this worm was once a forgotten bookmark. I stayed buried in a book for many years, neglected and forgotten until the TC found me again about two years ago. That’s how I’ve managed to retain my youthful appearance and zest all these 25 long years!

    Travel tip

    Things happen. All the time. Whether you’re there or not.

    Recommended restaurant

    Montmartre by the Sea, corner of Elkhorn Ave and The Esplanade, just across the road from the beach. It’s one of the few places in Surfers Paradise that serves good coffee. Get there in the early morning for freshly-baked raspberry muffins.

    The book I’m in

    The Street Philosopher, by Matthew Plampin. A taut, realistic view of a newspaper correspondent’s experiences in and after the Crimean War.

    The photos

    Take a walk with me through the evening and early morning in Surfers Paradise. It’s a little surreal there. Things will happen. That’s guaranteed. Join me in contemplating your toes, if you’re lucky enough to have any.

    Me getting bluesy:

    Evening and Dawn in Surfers Paradise
    Dawn in Surfers Paradise

    The TC took this snap when about to set off in all innocence on the Scooby-Doo ride at Movie World:

    Dawn in Surfers Paradise
    Dawn in Surfers Paradise

    Here comes the sun, it’s all right:

    Evening and Dawn in Surfers Paradise
    Dawn in Surfers Paradise

    A lone surfer in paradise:

    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise
    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise

    Early sunlight glancing off a footprint in the sand:

    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise
    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise

    Sunlight forming a halo around your toes:

    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise
    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise

    Now it looks like the foot is bulging up at you, as if someone is walking upside down under the sand:

    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise
    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise

    Jonathan was there too:

    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise
    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise

    Shell shadows:

    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise
    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise

    This dude is finding the early morning pickings slim, just a cigarette but or two. He does have impressive toes:

    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise
    Dawn in Surfer's Paradise

    That’s all for today dudes.


  • The alleyways of Melbourne

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Me and the TC are back in Sydney after a few days in Melbourne. This worm is feeling good. A bit flat around the edges, mark you (uh, no, Mark is me not you) but mostly good.

    My impressions? In Melbourne, it all happens in the alleyways.

    Black is still, or again, in in Melbourne. Goth is too. And dark magic. Dark chocolate. Just the TC’s sort of town.

    While in Melbourne, I was lucky enough to bump into Albert Stone. The TC waved me right under his nose. Albert does not move fast, but he does it with plenty of style. The inevitable pictures are below.

    I met Chloe too.

    Travel tip

    Live in the moment. Or in the book about it.

    That thought came to my mind while I was browsing through Albert’s web site. He’s one awesome dude.

    Recommended restaurant

    Any self-respecting chocolate lover must drop in at Koko Black, for Belgian chocolate indulgence.

    Recommended accommodation

    The Vibe Savoy hotel. Lots of mirrors, Art Deco plus a bit on the side, friendly service, excellent quality. The food is very tasty. But this worm has to warn that I spent some time in the TC’s bag next to her purse and noticed said purse grow considerably leaner. The Vibe Savoy is not cheap.

    The book I’m in

    Saturn’s Children, by Charles Stross.

    The book tells the adventures of Freya Nakamachi-47. Like me and Albert, she is a remarkable creature. She is a humanoid (alas poor thing) robot, one of a series designed to be the perfect companion (er, concubine) for real humans. Unfortunately for Freya, humankind died out just a few years before she came into being. So she’s never met a real man. Not yet…

    This worm recommends the book without reservation. It’s clever and funny (like me), fast (unlike Albert) and interesting (like me and Albert both). Luckily for this worm, the TC loves a good SF.

    The photos

    Me and Chloe:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Chloe resides behind a pane of glass (hence the reflections on the photograph) in the Young & Jackson Hotel, just next to Melbourne’s Flinders Street Station. Here’s another picture of her, sans reflections and regrettably sans moi too:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Young Chloe was painted in 1875 by a Frenchman called Jules Lefebvre. She is well loved by Melburnians, especially by beer lovers, and has pride of place in the bar on the first floor of Y&J’s. This is Chloe’s bar:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Here’s the Flinders Street Station as seen from Chloe’s window:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    There are tales galore about the girl who modelled for the Chloe painting. Sadly, they have her committing suicide at the tender age of 21. But Chloe lives on. This worm heard that a painting of Chloe’s sister hangs in a Melbourne museum somewhere too, but that the National Trust and Heritage of Victoria has declared that Chloe herself will stay at Y&J’s.

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Albert Stone, now there’s a man who knows how to live in the moment, how to make the moment last, and how to do it with style. To walk past him is impossible. To linger is essential. Here’s a picture of Albert, taken just as he notices yours truly thrust inelegantly into his space

    Me and Albert:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    He has an inexhaustible set of props that somehow just appear in his hand, even though he’s moving at the speed of a sluggish slug. Albert gave this worm a red carnation. I was most touched. Thank you dude:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Me and Albert, caught in the moment:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Alleyways rule in Melbourne:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    This worm recommends a visit to one of the cafes in the Central Places alleyway, if only for the grimy Dickensian atmosphere:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    The trams are tremendous. Here’s one in front of the GPO in Elizabeth Street:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Here’s another tram with a city backdrop:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    If you prefer wide open spaces rather than alleyways, there’s plenty for you in Melbourne too. We came across a Tamil demonstration at Federation Square:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    More of Federation Square:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    The Yarra River runs through the city, with eating places and recreation spots on its banks:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Autumn colours:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    For more colours, here’s a sunset view from the Vibe Savoy hotel, looking out over the Southern Cross Station roof towards the Melbourne Docklands:

    The alleyways of Melbourne
    The alleyways of Melbourne

    Did anyone miss Peg?

    That’s all for today dudes.


  • On top of Table Mountain

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Me and the TC have been in Cape Town, South Africa, for the last week. While we were there, we went up Table Mountain.

    My impressions? “The purpose of evolution, believe it or not, is beauty.” (Joseph Brodsky.)

    The TC is feeling philosophical at the moment. This is affecting me and all who travel with her. The top of Table Mountain is a good place for quiet reflection.

    Travel tip

    To boldly go where no man has gone before — that’s “marvellous”, as the TC’s father would say. This worm adds: Do split those infinitives and question other rules that may prevent you going where you need to go.

    The book I’m in

    World without End, by Ken Follett.

    Dedication

    For Peter and Kay, the TC’s parents, two travellers dauntless and generous.

    The photos

    Me and Peg on top of Table Mountain, near the cable car station and looking out over a fog-covered Atlantic seaboard:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    We went up the mountain on a day when the city and coast were shrouded in fog. At first we thought the cable car would not be running. But as we drove up Kloof Nek Road we rose up over the fog bank into the bright sunlight.

    Here’s a view from inside the cable car going up, seeing the other cable car coming down to meet us:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Below is a closer view of the top cable station as we approach it. Those last few metres are very steep. The cables creak and grind and the ground falls away on both sides to reveal a breathtaking view of Camps Bay as well as the city. When they’re not covered in mist, that is:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    The top cable station is at an altitude of 1067 metres. Take a look at the cables that anchor the station. The man sitting on the wall next to the cables gives you some idea of scale:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Here’s another view of the cables with the back of the top cable station behind them:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    The cable car going down, with the top cable station on the left and Lion’s Head (the round mountain top) on the right:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    The cables leading downwards, with Lion’s Head (669 metres) on the left and Signal Hill (350 metres) on the right:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Dassies on a rock overlooking the Atlantic seaboard beyond Camps Bay:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    What is a “dassie”, you may well ask? It’s a cute fat furry creature, about the size of a cat. And it’s the elephant’s closest living relative! You’ll see many of them sunning themselves on the rocks on top of the mountain, especially on the side that overlooks Camps Bay. They’re not too bothered by humans but if you get too close they disappear into a crevice. Here’s one that we saw on the city side of the mountain top, taking advantage of an empty bit of path at a viewing site:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Starting from the top cable station, we walked along the top of the front table with the Atlantic seaboard on our right. The vegetation up there is lovely:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    The Cape Floral Kingdom is famous for its diversity, and Table Mountain in particular is home to many unique and lovely species.  There are only 6 floral kingdoms in the world, and the Cape Floral Kingdom is the smallest but richest. The vegetation is called the “fynbos”, which means “fine bush”.

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    It really is flat on top of the mountain. Most of the plants are short, because the soil is shallow and the mountain-top climate is harsh. Still, even up there, you see some beauties like this protea overlooking an empty dam:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    A closer view of the protea:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Another bit of fynbos that caught the TC’s eye:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Still overlooking the Atlantic side, here’s a view of Hout Bay:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Now you’re looking over the eastern side towards Fishhoek and Simon’s Town, except that they’re covered in fog today:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    If you’re more energetic than the TC, you can walk up the mountain via Platteklip Gorge or one of the other gorges. You do need to be careful, especially if it’s misty. Every year a few tourists simply walk off the edge and fall to their deaths. The mountain seems friendly because it’s right in the middle of the city. But it’s a mountain after all. One of the gorges is named “Skeleton Gorge”, appropriately enough. Here’s a view of Platteklip Gorge, at the point where you would emerge if you walked up it:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Below is another view over the top of Platteklip Gorge. The TC’s sister Tracy crept to the edge and attached me and Peg to a meagre bush overhanging the precipice. It seems that that ruthless desire for adventure-by-proxy, with this worm as the proxy, runs in families!

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    Back to the mountain-top restaurant safe and sound, and a rock pigeon joined us for tea:

    On top of Table Mountain
    On top of Table Mountain

    That’s all for today dudes.


  • Armed response in Cape Town

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Me and the TC are in Cape Town, South Africa. This worm is feeling a tad jaded today.  As a result, you may find yourself exposed to some purple prose. Here it comes.

    Table Mountain looms with imposing and impervious beauty. Birds soar with ancient elegance across a huge sky over a pounding sea. Under the mountain and the sky, next to the sea, lies a city that is at times impressive too.

    At other times, it’s not.

    Nothing bad has happened to this worm, I hasten to assure you. But coming back to the land of my printing, I am struck again by how careful everyone is at every step they take, how many layers of steel and locks they put between themselves and the outside world before they can relax, and the edge of excitement this puts on every day life. By the way, the TC is fine too.

    Armed response outside the window

    Cape Town, 2am. The burglar alarm blares next door. The TC has already been awake for an hour, because in Sydney it’s now 10am. She’s a bit sad because coffee is a long time away. She perks up at the prospect of some excitement.

    Armed response arrives fast. Two big men with guns. From the way the TC was reading, or rather not reading, her book, this worm could feel her excitement levels rise.

    Big-man-with-gun number 1 phones the absent owner of the blaring house. We hear the entire conversation on his walkie-talkie. Including the part where the absent owner asks him for the secret code to confirm his identity and he tells it to her. Now the TC knows it, I know it, and any would-be assassin lurking in a nearby bush knows it too.

    Absent owner wants big-man-with-gun to leap over her wall and check her house for intruders. Armed response control centre asks big-man to comply with the request. “Negative, control, negative. Wall is too high and is covered in spikes. Negative. I can’t get over it.”

    So, would-be rescuers cannot get in. That’s bright huh.

    At this point, the TC and her mum meander outside to offer assistance. That’s probably not too bright either. This worm stays snugly inside a book on the window sill.

    TC’s mum shows the armed response guys how to get onto the vlei so that they can check the back of the neighbour’s property for any baddies.

    TC’s mum to big-man-with-gun: “Be careful hey, they hunt in packs.”

    Big-man-with-gun number 2: “Ja, but we shoot in packs.”

    Wrapping it up: They did a thorough check. An hour later, the SA Police drove round too. And at 4am the absent owner arrived, escorted once more by armed response. A false alarm, yet another big man with gun announced, but there were two robberies in the area yesterday. At this point, the TC gave up on any prospect of sleep and brewed that first cup of the day.

    Travel tip

    Double lock everything. Look around you always. Don’t trust anyone who approaches you. Ever.

    The book I’m in

    World without End, by Ken Follett.

    This is the sequel to The Pillars of the Earth. Both are marvellous. Even if you’re not a Ken Follett fan, this worm highly recommends that you give these books a try. Especially when travelling through a part of the world where much seems chaotic and the course of events arbitrary, it’s good to dive into a book where people make do and live their lives despite having little control over them.

    The photos

    Me not quite under lock and key in Table View near Cape Town:

    Armed response in Cape Town
    Armed response in Cape Town

    Table Mountain lurking behind a veil of rushes at Flamingo Vlei, Table View:

    Armed response in Cape Town
    Armed response in Cape Town

    Table Mountain lurking behind a sign post in Table View:

    Armed response in Cape Town
    Armed response in Cape Town

    “Beware. This may be a high risk area.” And so on.

    Ag man, what a shame hey.

    That’s all for today dudes.


  • Sunrise in Sydney

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Me and the TC have been back home for a couple of weeks now, after our trip to San Francisco and Seattle. Jet lag is a thing of the past. The trip is already receding into the mists of memory.

    Did we ever go at all? Sometimes this worm thinks a good book is more real than life itself.

    Speaking of real life, there just has to be a better form of long-distance travel than the aircraft. The TC is not a good traveller. After about six hours on a plane, she becomes miserable, mussy and messy. Very messy.

    Me, I’d suggest teleportation. Just drop into a fax machine and materialise on the other side of the world. Make sure it’s a high-definition, high-colour fax machine, or you may lose some vital bits.

    Travel tip

    Don’t double-knot your shoe laces until you’ve been through airport security.

    Recommended restaurant

    Home sweet home.

    The book I’m in

    The Villa, by Nora Roberts.

    A good old-fashioned intrigue set in San Francisco and Italy, seasoned with romance and noble wines.

    The photos

    Me back in the bosom of my family:

    Sunrise in Sydney
    Sunrise in Sydney

    Hand was a bit emotional on my return. I was touched. Peg took centre stage as usual. In an uncharacteristic bout of soppiness, Drool allowed The Rival and Naught to drape themselves all over him. Naught is stuck in his waterproof suit. I don’t think we’ll ever get it off him. I did tell him of the perils of lamination, but he just would not listen. At least I escaped his fate. That’s the beauty of having a stunt worm.

    Sydney is heading into winter. The sunrises are begrudgingly gorgeous at this time of year:

    Sunrise in Sydney
    Sunrise in Sydney

    With the longer nights and the swap to daylight saving time, there’s a chance you’ll be awake to enjoy a sunrise over the sea:

    Sunrise in Sydney
    Sunrise in Sydney

    That’s all for today dudes.


  • Underground in Seattle

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Are you interested in the seamier side of Seattle? Or even the seamstresses of Seattle? This worm was not, until recently. Then me and the TC took the Seattle Underground Tour and emerged with a new understanding of the way sewers, seawater and seamstresses have shaped this great city.

    Our Underground Tour guide gave us a hilarious potted (or perhaps “pottied” would be more appropriate) version of Seattle history. According to our guide, the original designer of the city took no account of the twice-daily high tide that capriciously plagued the area where he wanted to build his city. As a result, the downtown streets were always either under water or dangerously muddy.

    This problem was compounded when the indoor toilet came into vogue. Now the rich folks at the top of the hill sent their waste down the hill via a single wooden sewer pipe. All was fine and dandy at low tide. But when the water rose, as it still insisted on doing twice a day, it reversed the flow in the pipe. Downtown toilets became geysers, spouting a mixture of sea water and sewage some ten feet into the air. Downtown streets were even more of a morass than before.

    This seemed to be an intractable problem, until the Great Seattle Fire of 1889. Read on to discover the solution. And the seamstresses.

    Travel tip

    Seattle has lots of great coffee shops. It’s cold in Seattle, especially underground. The underground tour lasts a long 90 minutes. Taking all these factors into account, it’s a good idea to make use of a toilet when there’s one at hand.

    Recommended restaurant

    Icon Grill, 5th Avenue, Seattle. The glasswork is impressive if a little overwhelming. The food is good too.

    The book I’m in

    The Girl who Played with Fire, by Stieg Larsson, translated by Reg Keeland.

    This worm is delighted to be ensconced in a good, spine-stiffening book

    The photos

    Me, with Peg acting as counterweight, hanging nonchalantly from a tap under the Seattle streets:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    Underneath the Seattle sidewalks lurks an alternative city. You walk on pavements, with buildings rising at your side, just as if you were above ground. Windows and doors appear in their rightful place on the walls. But above your head is the underneath of the pavement!

    The Underground Tour has an interesting history of its own. In 1954, Bill and Shirley Speidel came up with the idea in an effort to save the older parts of the city from property developers. The final straw, so we were told, was when the old Seattle Hotel was torn down to make way for the “Sinking Ship” parking garage:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    The Underground Tour starts off in the old Pioneer Building, built in 1891 after the Great Fire and once acknowledged as the most beautiful building in Seattle:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    Here we are in the darkly atmospheric Doc Maynard’s Pub, inside the Pioneer Building. The tour guide is preparing us for the great underground excursion:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    Going down…

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    Underground:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    There’s a lot of room down there, and a lot of old junk. This young dude is checking out the debris while his mother examines the supports holding up the road above our heads:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    The story is that the Great Fire of Seattle in 1889 was a blessing in disguise. It destroyed all the old wooden buildings and gave the city a chance for a complete face lift. The city decided to raise the level of the streets, to avoid that twice-daily dunking in muck.

    Meanwhile, building owners started enthusiastically reconstructing their own private buildings, in brick instead of wood this time, but at the original street level. Huh. So come a certain date, they had to abandon the lower floors of their buildings when the city simply built the new road above their heads.

    Hence the gap. Hence the Underground Tour. And all largely thanks to the indoor toilet, if our tour guide is to be believed. As convincing evidence, the tour operators have left various water closets strategically placed at points in the tour for us to see:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    Missed that one? No worries, here’s another, nicely framed with its own mood lighting:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    Toilets aside, there are scenes of weird beauty down there too, like these two glass windows left hanging in an archway:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    We saw people’s feet walk over skylights in the sidewalk above our heads, like this one:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    Me still underground, hanging about with an old sign the TC found lying on its side. It must date from the early days of the Underground Tour:

    Underground in Seattle
    Underground in Seattle

    And what about the seamstresses, you ask? They were, of course, not seamstresses but rather ladies of the night who plied their trade in the old downtown streets of Seattle. The city authorities at one time considered driving them away. But then some entrepreneurial councillor realised that real money was exchanging hands here. So, as our tour guide remarked, the city imposed a sin tax on “liquor, gambling and sewing”. And so the “seamstresses” played their part in supporting the city too.

    That’s all for today dudes.


  • Starbucks in Seattle

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Starbucks are alive and well and living in Seattle. Where it rains.

    If you’ve ever been anywhere near Seattle, you’ll know that it’s not hard to find a Starbucks store in that town. In fact, it’s hard not to trip over them at every corner. So the TC was surprised and delighted to see this tweet from a fellow Seattle visitor:

    Starbucks in Seattle
    Starbucks in Seattle

    She rushed to his aid, tweeting enthusiastically that the very first Starbucks was just around the corner from where he was sitting. In fact, the hapless tweeter was inundated with helpful suggestions of where he might quench his thirst. His tweet was a joke, of course.

    Travel tip

    Don’t fight it. When in Starbucks, go for the coffee with everything in it.

    Recommended restaurant

    Duh.

    The book I’m in

    The Girl who Played with Fire, by Stieg Larsson, translated by Reg Keeland.

    The TC has just started this book and she’s totally engrossed in it. She does mention that it’s a bit heavy on her hands, so every now and then she finds welts gouged into her skin after a lengthy reading session. This is the second book in the “Millennium” series.

    The photos

    Me and Peg with a Caramel Macchiato in the original Starbucks coffee shop in Seattle:

    Starbucks in Seattle
    Starbucks in Seattle

    This worm felt warm and comfy, surrounded by all that dark wood and shiny soft leather. The TC downed her drink with apparent enjoyment, after the obligatory photo shoot.

    Starbucks opened its first store in 1971. After a few years, that store moved to its current location in Pike Place, where the TC found her Caramel Macchiato. Here’s a view of the outside of the store:

    Starbucks in Seattle
    Starbucks in Seattle

    This is the sign on the pillar at the door:

    Starbucks in Seattle
    Starbucks in Seattle

    The logo on this store is a bit different from the ones you see on other stores around the world. It features a sort of medieval mermaid, inelegantly endowed with two tails. She makes no attempt to cover her breasts with her hair as in later versions, and is altogether a more interesting and more real personality that the later versions. Like me:

    Starbucks in Seattle
    Starbucks in Seattle

    This is the logo you see now on most Starbucks stores and packaging:

    Starbucks in Seattle
    Starbucks in Seattle

    If you’ve got it, flaunt it, that’s this worm’s motto.
    That’s all for today dudes.


  • Gum Wall in Seattle

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Me and the TC are in Seattle. Where it rains. She’s here for the WritersUA conference, four days of technical writer’s heaven.

    Undaunted by the dismal drizzle and the icy wind, the TC set off for a grand tour of the city. She wandered down Post Alley and spotted the Seattle Wall of Gum.

    Would you believe that she stuck me to it? So humiliating. Take a look at the snap below and commiserate with me. Don’t laugh!

    Travel tip

    Chew every mouthful 32 times. “Nature will castigate those who don’t masticate,” said Horace Fletcher the great.

    The book I’m in

    Bones, by Jonathan Kellerman.

    This dude always manages to set your teeth on edge from the very first bite.

    The photos

    Me affixed inelegantly to the Seattle Gum Wall:

    Gum Wall in Seattle
    Gum Wall in Seattle

    Here’s another view of the glorious gum:

    Gum Wall in Seattle
    Gum Wall in Seattle

    The TC did not have any gum, so she donated a half-chewed Mentos that had kept me company in her bag all the way from Australia.

    The story is that the gum started appearing on the wall way back in the early 1990s. People standing in line for the Market Theatre used the wall as a place to leave their gum:

    Gum Wall in Seattle
    Gum Wall in Seattle

    As an aside, I have to inform you that the TC noticed with glee the spelling of “THEATRE” in the sign above. One down for American spelling! As another aside, I have to apologise for the TC. She’s a technical writer.

    The Gum Wall, a.k.a the Great Wall of Gum, is in Post Alley at the Pike Place Market. Here’s a view from the skyway over the alley, with the sticky stuff on the left:

    Gum Wall in Seattle
    Gum Wall in Seattle

    Here’s the other end of Post Alley, looking altogether less hard-bitten:

    Gum Wall in Seattle
    Gum Wall in Seattle

    That’s all for today dudes.


  • Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    A few days ago, me and the TC climbed up to Coit Tower on Telegraph Hill and saw the frescoes on the walls of the tower.

    Later the same day, we had tea at the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. This little restaurant introduced fortune cookies to the United States. There’s even a claim that fortune cookies were invented by Makoto Hagiwara, caretaker of the Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco.

    The fortune cookies and the frescoes are at opposite ends of town, so why write about them in one blog post? Purely for the sake of the alliteration. I could claim a philosophical juxtaposition of commerce and art, or of kitch and realism. But no, it’s the allure of the alliteration. That’s assonance, man.

    Travel tip

    Treat yourself to a chocolate. If you’ve never had a Hershie Bar, they’re worth trying.

    The book I’m in

    Managing Writers, A Real World Guide to Managing Technical Documentation, by Richard L. Hamilton.

    This bookworm is munching on the feast of quotable bits in this book. Here’s an appetiser from the section on “The Elements of Technical Writing”:

    “Schedules are the closest thing to a ‘black art’ that you are likely to deal with as a documentation manager. The good news is that as a documentation manager, you will rarely set schedules; the bad news is that you will rarely set schedules.”

    Tantalising? The explanation’s in the book.

    The photos

    Me with a fortune cookie in the Japanese Tea Garden, San Francisco:

    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco
    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco

    My fortune cookie says “You are next in line for promotion in your firm”. Look out, all worms, here I come!

    Did you know that the origin of the fortune cookie is in some dispute? Some claim that Makoto Hagiwara, caretaker of the Japanese Tea Garden, created them. Others say that they were invented in Japan but the Tea Garden introduced fortune cookies into the United States:

    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco
    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco

    Hopping over to the frescoes, here’s part of a wall inside Coit Tower on Telegraph Hill, San Francisco:

    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco
    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco

    Coit Tower was built in 1933 with money donated by Lillie Hitchcock Coit. Artists painted the frescoes and were paid as part of the Federal Government’s New Deal to help artists during the Great Depression.

    Beautiful, huh? Yes, but take a closer look:

    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco
    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco

    The grimmer side of life is there in the painting too. A man has been run over by a car. Also, look closely in the first picture and you’ll see that someone is picking the pocket of the man in a white coat checking his watch.

    Worried about imminent invasion by E.T. and his buddies? No need. The UFO Response Team is out in force, spotted here at the top of Haight near Golden Gate Park:

    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco
    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco

    And so it’s farewell to fair San Francisco. (Can’t resist that alliteration today.) Here’s me on Baker Beach with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background:

    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco
    Fortune cookies and frescoes in San Francisco

    Me and the TC are off to Seattle. Where it rains.

    That’s all for today dudes.


  • Cable cars in San Francisco

    This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC) .

    Today’s travel notes

    Me and the TC took a trip on a San Francisco cable car. That was the most fun you can have outside a book!

    We’ve also ventured onto buses and trams and various other forms of transport. You know what? Everyone chats to everyone in San Francisco.

    My impressions? Public transport reveals San Francisco as a friendly city full of cheerful, or if not cheerful then vociferously expressive, people.

    Even the gripman on the cable car had a big smile for the TC. Check out the photograph below. Gripmen are a fascinating breed.

    Travel tip

    Not only do the Americans drive on the wrong side of the road, their light switches are all wrong too: Push up to switch on the light. (This is an especially useful tip when it’s dark. And after all, that’s usually when you’re trying to turn on the light.)

    Another tip: City blocks in San Francisco are long. Don’t try to walk too many of them.

    Recommended restaurant

    Zazie, a French bistro in Cole Valley. The food is divine. The TC had braised steak Marseillaise. It was so tender it fell apart at the touch of a fork.

    The book I’m in

    Managing Writers, A Real World Guide to Managing Technical Documentation, by Richard L. Hamilton.

    A very well organised book with plenty of information for a bookworm to get his teeth into.

    The photos

    Me on the Powell & Mason Streets cable car:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    Did you think “cable car” meant a car that hangs from an overhead cable? The TC did, bless her cotton socks. So she was surprised to see something that looks more like an ornate tram:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    The cable runs underground. It’s a set of steel strands wrapped around a rope core. The cable moves at a speed of about 15km per hour. The car grabs onto the cable and is pulled along the track. When it reaches the end of the track, the car runs onto a turntable:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    Now people have to turn it around by hand so that it can go in the other direction:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    The star of the show is the gripman. This is a highly skilled and physically superior being. The competition to become a gripman is strong and the training is harsh. This bookworm has read somewhere that only 30 percent of trainees pass the course. Undaunted to find herself in such illustrious company, the TC smiled at our gripman. Just look at the smile she got in response:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    Behind the gripman you can see the impressive array of levers he has to manipulate. He is the dude who makes the car grab or release the cable. He also has to judge the gaps across intersections, where the cable does not run. And he has to watch out for unaware motorists and pedestrians and other mere mortals who don’t know just how out-of-control a cable car can be.

    Here’s a closer look at the levers and handles:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    Want to go for a ride on a San Francisco cable car? Try these videos:

    Here’s the gripman dude in action:

    Do you have a head for heights? Here’s a very short video of the cable car starting at the top of a steep hill:

    The trams in SF are special too. Some of them are heritage models, and some are even imported from other cities around the world. Here’s a golden oldie from Milan, that we spotted in Market Street:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    Even the buses in SF have something to say for themselves. Many of them are powered by overhead cables. This can get a bit ugly at intersections:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    But hey, it means the buses can have “Zero Emissions Vehicle” proudly emblazoned on their sides:

    Cable cars in San Francisco
    Cable cars in San Francisco

    Bus seats are roomy, unlike in Sydney where the TC can be heard to complain that other passengers sit on her rather than next to her. This worm is feeling magnanimous today, so here’s another tip. (This is the third one in a single blog post. Feel privileged!) To request a stop, you pull the cable that runs along above the windows. It’s not an emergency cord.

    That’s all for today dudes.