Cab fares and weddings

It costs £30 to even look at a cab in London. In Shanghai most taxi fares come out to less than a tenth of that. The difference in the price might be down to a) the ubiquitousness of taxis in Shanghai and b) the 'fearless' , time maximizing, driving technique of the local cabbies. The age of the vehicles - and the fact they were fully depreciated long ago -  may also be a factor. We used cabs a lot so became experts on which drivers to avoid.

Our hotel is right on the Bund. It's comfortable and the staff are friendly . Some speak a few words of English, others (most) none at all. This is unusual. In most places around the world English, or some form of it, acts as a sort of lingua franca. Check in takes 35 minutes even though I'd done it on-line before boarding the flight from London. Procedures have to be followed and passports checked. I'd reckon 85% of the guests are local and 15% international. In Tokyo or Singapore or London it would be the other way round. For some reason our hotel ( perhaps because its near the consulate ) has no Russian guests. Everywhere else they are by far the predominant foreign grouping.

On a stroll out of our hotel we notice a large number of young couples having their wedding photos taken. They all seem to be dressed identically.

It is clearly a big day for them.

Dog owners are much in evidence at the local cafes. One fellow seems to recognize a fellow Scot.

Presumably dogs are taken for a long start of day walk then onto breakfast. Life for a urban hound in a city this big must be difficult.

On a street corner a group of ladies are practising what they must consider to be a 'Latin' sound. The effect can best be described as 'unusual' .

Yet more wedding couples seem oblivious to the heavy traffic. People waiting at a bus stop look on as if this is the most natural thing in the world. When a bus arrives the young couples stop being photographed and step onto the pavement. When a bus goes they move back.

When we return to the hotel the Groucho quartet are still there. They seem to have a producer . He seems quite pleased with their performance. We decide Chinese - Argentinian Chacarera must be a thing. 

A great cinematic moment and a  great cameo of American and English use of language :https://youtu.be/awsmXerhLqQ?t=107

We watch yesterdays speech to Congress by the King. It was quite political but his host doesn't seem to have been bothered by it. The gift of the bell at dinner was inspired :https://youtu.be/KaQdlOTU0ms?t=551

Things I didn't know. Mushroom capital of the world :https://pennsylvaniaindependent.com/politics/pennsylvania-is-home-to-the-worlds-mushroom-capital/

The wonderful Picasso exhibition

We'd heard about an exhibition of Picassos works in Shanghai that was said to be impressive : https://www.museumofartpd.org.cn/en/exhibitiondetail?id=180 . It's our first destination on our first night in town.

It turns out to be not just impressive but outright brilliant.

The pictures displayed on walls painted by Paul Smith the British fashion designer. A refreshing change from the whitewashed walls approach that galleries love.

Forget stuffy. This exhibition of 80 of the artists works is fun.

Crowds of young Chinese are out enjoying themselves.

Some rooms are wittier and more successful than other others. The room with pink walls and peach floors was close to drowning the pictures with sensory overload.

A Picasso of a baby owl is something I could live with.

This is a TikTok generation. Out on the Bund thousands of love struck twenty somethings are happily photographing each other against the backdrop of the old concession era buildings. At midnight the place is still humming but, as the cars are mostly electric , it's much, much quieter than a European city. In fact the quietness is positively eerie. There are lots of Russian tourists ( as in thousands and thousands of them enjoying visa free travel ) but very few western Europeans, even fewer Americans and almost no Japanese or Singaporean visitors in the hotels. Almost no one speaks English ( even in the big hotels ) and communication is now done on translation apps. 

Shanghai to London

 Breakfast in a sunny Shanghai.

Then the better part of 15 hours on BA back to London.

We miss the connector to Edinburgh but get one out this morning and have a wonderful view of the bridges across the Thames as the sun is rising.

More tomorrow when the jet lag is under control.

As we taxi into the terminal airport in Edinburgh a large Airbus from Hainan airlines arrives bringing passengers from Beijing. They've literally started a four times a weeks direct service to Scotland. It flies over Russia which saves 5 hours but that's not reassuring for Brits if there's a mechanical problem and it has to land in Moscow.

Meanwhile all eyes on this afternoons garden party at the British ambassadors residence in Washington. Will the next few days pass without incident ? The King can be counted on to approach everything with dignity.

Shanghai bound.

Last night Google had a major download. This morning the desktop is barely functioning. It is so slow.

Later today we'll take the last flight down to Heathrow. Tomorrow we head off on the 13 hour connecting flight to Shanghai. 'The Font' has spent the last three days packing 'lightly'. Angus quietly marvels at the elasticity of the word.

Here the weather is perfect.

On the beach it may not be warm but it's not cold. Perfect  sweater weather. The local pooches are in heaven.

We're getting towards that time of the year when it doesn't get dark. It's light from well before six to almost nine. Soon it will be bright from four to eleven. By seven thirty there's a queue of youngsters waiting to use the library. Greggs is doing a roaring trade in sausage rolls.

The daffodils on the golf course are past their best. The bluebells are only just coming out.

Back at the last wee house before Denmark the farmer is finishing off planting the potatoes. At one point yesterday there were no less than nine tractors planting, ploughing and watering. This morning there's only two of them and a large water barrel on a trailer. The seagulls have arrived for a lavish breakfast.

We plan to be back on April 27th. Easily remembered in the village because that's when the farmers youngest starts his exams. In a small village such things are shared adventures. People have already started to wish him well. Two weeks after his exams finish he's off with his elder brother and four mates to Boston for the World Cup. Rather bizarrely they have got a great deal on two rooms at the Hyatt in Cambridge. They tried to book a family room for six but the hotel sensibly thought a large group of teenage male football fans sharing was pushing the concept of 'family' to destruction. It insisted on them taking two rooms. It seems demand for hotels during the toyrnament isn't quite the bonanza local hoteliers had been expecting.

The love life of penguins in Kyoto :https://x.com/DoctorLemma/status/2043230135281971466

Warning to pedestrians in Manhattan :https://x.com/yohaniddawela/status/2041485410518331681?s=61

An unusual degree course in the 21st century. The young lady at the 3:30 mark seems very grounded :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PV1RdLMhko

The passion in the face :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7auBhHgi7d8

Beware the wind

By quarter to six the fields outside the wee house are busy with tractors. The farmer is planting potatoes. His 17 year old son is out there helping before he heads off to school. Two Jack Russells are happily asleep in the warm cabin of the lads tractor. The boy starts his baccalaureate exams on the 27th. You'd expect him to be panicking but he seems quite relaxed about them. The same can't be said for his mother. 

Tractors with trailers laden with seed potatoes rumble past chapel. I wonder how many university towns feel the passage of the seasons so strongly ?

The supermarket is big on tulips. They're on special offer at £3.22 a bunch. I'm guessing someone over- ordered.

Restaurants and hotels have started advertising for graduation. This is a bit of a shock. It only seems like yesterday the new year started. The lady who used to run the kitchen store by the bakers appears at the front door of the hotel on the seafront. She's given up the shop - people buy their kitchen ware on line these days and the struggle to turn a profit was a losing one - and is starting off in a new job as hotel manager. She will do well at this.

The wind this morning is strong enough to be whipping the sand across the beach. It stings the ankles. Instead we opt to walk across the golf course.

Another controversial royal visit . We know it's controversial because the newspaper headline tells us so. Everyone involved has sensibly decided to act as if these visits are solely and exclusively to do with celebrating 250 years of friendship. The royal couple don't appear to be having fun :https://www.dutchnews.nl/2026/04/dutch-king-and-queen-in-us-for-controversial-visit-to-trump/

Helium. More important than you thought  :https://www.construction-physics.com/p/helium-is-hard-to-replace

Breathing is yours and yours alone :https://www.psypost.org/your-breathing-pattern-is-as-unique-as-a-fingerprint/

Green jackets and Augusta :https://golf.com/news/history-strict-rules-masters-green-jacket/

Japanese trains :https://www.worksinprogress.news/p/the-secret-behind-japans-railways

Life is quiet

A sunny Monday morning. The news leads with the Hungarian elections where the pro-Russian government has been voted out by a landslide. Seems J D Vances campaign stop last week to bolster the old government didn't work as planned. We also learn that overnight the American President has had a go at the 'weak and terrible' Pope. " If I wasn't in the White House Leo wouldn't be in the Vatican ". Even to a Presbyterian mindset this sounds rather insulting. Keir Starmer who has been criticized yet again in one of these diatribes must feel as if he's in good company. Angus wonders if it's good politics to get into a shouting match with the Pope. Presumably some advisers must think MAGA supporters are Southern Baptists not Catholics.

Three Scotties are heading towards us as we head down the street towards the Old Course. We step aside to let them - and their owners - go by. Scotties have a strangely imperial air for such wee dogs. They exude a ' This is my town and you're in my way ' disdain. The matriarch , on the right, has a particularly no nonsense air about her.

The wee town has been busy over the weekend with the once a year open day for those youngsters lucky enough to have been offered a place here next semester. Proud parents and uncertain teenagers throng the place. Lots of kids from Melbourne wanting to do pre-Med this year. The big question facing them - would you prefer to study in a large city with nightlife or a small town without diversions ? Today the parents and holidaymakers have gone and the students are focusing on exams. As a result  parking is easy. 

In Starbucks this morning four retired gentlemen from Poughkeepsie inform us they're here to play a round on the Old Course in memory of their old friend Jim. Seems he retired in December but then went on all too quickly to play the sun drenched course in the sky . Rather sweetly they ask me which whisky they should use to toast his memory. " Money's no object " they add. Tonight as the sun sets over the 17th they will stand by the old stone wall in the garden of The Jigger Inn and toast absent friends. For some folks the Old Course really is sacred ground where dreams are played out. They'll start with a 30 year old Macallan and move onto a glass of Laphroaig followed by a dram of Caol Ila to ward off the post sunset cold. The old line attributed to Bobby Jones ( that greatest and most gentlemanly of all golfers ) will be repeated " If I had been set down, in any one place, and told I was to play there and nowhere else for the rest of my life, I should have chosen the Old Course at St Andrews ". It will be, I think, an emotional evening. Their honesty and kindness reminds me of the Arizonans on our Northern Lights trip.

A hint of sea mist as we arrive on the beach.

A few students out on the sand .Nothing like a walk on the beach to clear the mind before a day in the library. 

Locals sit on the club house steps and soak up the sunshine. They ignore the biting wind.

Life is sunny and quiet.

Spotted in the next McTears auction in Glasgow :

Last day in London

We go to a friends 70th birthday dinner. At the trendy Chelsea restaurant the young doorman looks us up and down and says ' You must be here for the oldies party '. We confirm that's the case and are escorted to the private room. All the women with the exception of one in a leopard skin cat suit are wearing cocktail dresses and sporting a solitary string of pearls. The men wear the international uniform of blue suits and open necked shirts. The exception ( there is always an exception )  is a duke wearing a dinner jacket, jeans, a tee shirt and Crocs . This is the sort of sartorial insouciance that comes from having a family that arrived with William the Conqueror. A simple Scot from the Isles can only marvel at the self confidence.  In the background this piece of music is playing :https://youtu.be/BfdkQGQ5xpA?list=RDBfdkQGQ5xpA&t=17 Those of a certain age will remember it as the sound of European beach clubs in the 1970's. I always thought the singer sounded as if he was drowning . Conversation is about down sizing, travel, grandchildren and ( among the men ) the number of pills that are taken to dissipate the aches from those decades old rugby injuries.  Krug and a delightful Condrieu soon have the laughter flowing.

Town remains quiet. This mornings news about the breakdown of talks, although expected, doesn't help the vibe. The next 48 hours provide space to course correct.   A friend in Rome is surprised that he was able to wander in and get a table at the roof top bar in the Hotel Raphael in Rome. This is unusual enough for him to call us.  'We watched the sunset in peace'. The quiet it seems  isn't just a London thing. 

The area around Chiltern Street has become the uber trendy part of town. It used to be rather wind swept and dowdy. It has also become home to an ever expanding expatriate community of Swedes who cluster outside the local watering holes. A man is employed to make sure they remain behind the swagger ropes and don't block the pavement. People do what they're told without complaining which is nothing short of miraculous.

We see an immigration enforcement van . The UK's version of ICE. Neither of us has ever seen a van like this before. We're also intrigued by the Waymo self driving Jaguars that are appearing everywhere. From our interest in such things it can be taken for granted that we have segued quietly into country bumpkins. Maybe New Yorkers who move to Connecticut also feel like this. 

Soon we shall be on the train for the five hour journey back to Fife.