the obituary* comes out. it makes it real now.
i am still too shocked to weep.
*CPY, who in so many ways was larger than life and showed me what collegiality collaboration camaraderie and friendship can be between otherwise unconnected professionals.
sequel-commentary-new book to 84, charing cross street which i must now go read again. written in diary form and in a chatty tone with punches of guileless wit. charming feel-good good-read book much like a slice of almond butter cake with café au lait for tea break, which is to say it is gently heartily satisfying and i must be missing my cakes after three weeks of japanese and chinese fare.
shocking news as we travel.
sudden departure on vacation. my teacher and my friend.
too soon. we meant to catch up soon.
the quickest way to frighten off a group of middle-aged tourists is to give them their money's worth of outdoor tour attractions on a rainy day at 8 degrees celsius after which there is every chance they will decide to cancel the next day's attractions and hare it out of the county on an earlier train.*
this brings to mind c. northcote parkinson's suggestion of an overdose of exhausting air travel as a strategy to persuade the senior civil servant voluntarily retire.
*3 national parks and a cruise then another national park and a museum, in addition to 2 full meals, all in 1 day.
owing to sudden drop in temperature to freezing and our unfamiliarity with the air-conditioner/heater set-up the warmest thing in the hotel room now is the heated toilet seat and it is looking very compelling as a place of repose.
my (cautiously vouchsafed) (politically incorrect) grouses about the (ethnic) motherland in this age of inclusivity and mutual encouragement:
time was when chinese transliterated their company names from others, like this.
anodyne with no adverse effects beyond a mild irritation, i suppose.
certainly not what i expect from the effusive reviews although i am not entirely certain what exactly i expect. perhaps a little less placid predictability. also, i find the extreme youthfulness of the female protagonists to be borderline disturbing, although i acknowledge this is par for the course for those days of tall dark masterful males and sweetly attractive females before even mills & boons became harlequin.
i shall shelve pilcher with debbie macomber. good for when one is jaded tired and just needs some undemanding diversion for the eyes.
we almost (almost) miss the flight, owing to several facts:
full day of traveling yesterday and the ol' iphone battery went from 90% to 27% following a day of weather checks travel checks e-book consumption squaredle playing google translate google map and general google use resulting in several hours of nail-biting anxiety over the final few percentage points of the battery life before we finally hit the hotel in the wee hours of the morning. cue great relief and much maternal pride.
the old iphone would have given up the ghost at the dinner-time mark.
bit o' shock to the system, to be honest. key points of interest, in no particular order:
charming and whimsical and light with pockets of profoundness packed into a string of interconnected short stories and a rather unexpected twist at the end. (well, it is unexpected to me because i am just flowing with the stories and wondering if we should get a cat too.)
i am now waiting eagerly for the sequel, expected in autumn.
everything i love about the washroom:
we drive up to mount aso but forget to check the logistic details beyond the driving directions. which is how we end up in -2 degrees C in our spring weather gear.
with every amenity but rather flimsily so.
the room is modestly (if nicely) proportioned. you collect your toothbrush from a stand near the entrance door. the duvet cover feels like a disposable tablecloth. the pillow is an ultra-light piece of foam that nevertheless succeeds in giving a neck ache. the bedroom slippers are diaphanous pieces of tissue.
BUT.
the en suite bathroom is a mini onsen-like set-up that makes up for everything above.
that, and the stable broadband connection.
pre-prepped food in japan is at a different level of competence altogether. of which this repast is a barely representative sample.
a grand piano in the lounge that has a clear plastic guard over the keys and instructions not to touch. audrey hepburn's portrait in the lift lobby. real keys that turn in the lock. faded chic meets japanese standards of housekeeping. but the view! the jewels sparkle gloriously in the night.
this hotel stay is the bucket list item i did not know i had.
not, as i mistakenly expect, frothy escapade material but marian keyes-esque for the serious issues it covers but at a rather painfully dragged out pace.
i give up at the 61% mark and skip to the ending to read backwards.
10/10 for courage in tackling tough topics.
6/10 for writing in the du jour back-and-forth-in-time style which i first enjoy in lucy foley's the guest list but which is now borderline passé.
sitting in the food court
HOM and i look at the next table
clearly retirees, with grey hair practical clothes and safe sneakers
talking about health challenges neighbors' kids and the chicken and fish curry
and it occurs to me they look at us and see
two of the same.
WHOA.
insider account of the early years of the nation and our neighbors followed by a sweeping geopolitical analysis of the key nations we have contact with delivered with unapologetic confidence. not to mention delicious tidbits about nations and politicians delivered without care for political correctness.
refreshing (finally a non-US-centric account of history!) and satisfying (the man has memories and he doesn't censor them) and most enlightening. also, it gives you a (curated) glimpse of the man behind the bulldog.
i just wish someone would write a similar account of 2000 to 2025.
...we knew little about... how to solve our many economic and social problems. all we had was a burning desire to change an unfair and unjust society for the better. thank you, gentlemen.
